Wednesday, January 30, 2019

The Eternal Love Story

When they fight and separate
They burn; they drown
They bring drought and deluge

When they come together
They bring saplings of vitality to life

Seven colours come into play when he runs his bright fingers through her diamond coloured hair.

When they do a show of strength
She sends her soldiers to captivate and arrest his light.
And he grins with the pride of one upmanship when he makes silver linings around the very same flagbearers of the proud queen.

Fireworks and Storms galore
Their love story like all others
Brings joy and tears
They paint the town in rainbow colours
They complement and contest each other
They burn and quench each other

Eternal love story of the Sun and Rain
The story of separation and evenings spent in vain
The story of meetings and songs sung in pain
The story of creation and Sun and Rain


Wednesday, January 23, 2019

Lying to a person,  who can take the truth, is an insult to that person's strength of character

Sunday, January 20, 2019

The beautiful glass

The smokey,  Blue,  intoxicating, sparkling,  fragrant drink;
This vast,  beautiful, wide rimmed glass;
The stem lies in the hands of the Alpha
While the cold, white,  brilliant ice tinkers around;
The silver particles form beautiful shapes.

He shakes the glass a little for His amusement;
What churn out are stories,
of lands far and wide, emotions soft and lucid;
Stories told next to orange cinders throwing forth warm rotis in a mud hut;
Stories told at a tall table with two  glasses in two hands;
Stories told lying under the shade of the same sky, to the soldier lying next,
Of not going to see the cute child again,
of not caressing the forehead of the beloved ever again,
While fireworks continue behind the sand bags,  across the barbed wires,
And the man holding the stem of the glass calls the soldier near,
His hands pointing at the stars glitter gore.

Stories told at a nukkad (square) with a kulhad (clay tea cup) in hand
Of past romances when the head still bore hues of black
Of past matches where he scored a century and bowed to a crowded stadium

Stories told by a defeated heart to his wife lying next,
of the dreams of playing in a band,
Of holding the strings of a guitar,
In the same helplessness hands that could not  hold anything more than the stick of a night watchman,
of whistling and alerting people to stay on guard,
In the same night,  which like many others,  tells him he is one more night farther from his dreams.

This man though, with the stem in His hands, of this beautiful wide brimmed glass, stirs it a little at times ;
The stirrer of His grace,
turns fates upside down,.
brings the ones down to the top and pushes the proud ones down;

Sits back and enjoys another sip

Till the contents settle again and tell similar stories into the darkening liquid

(Metaphor -  Evening as the smokey liquid in His hands)


Photo courtesy -
Pain can be beautiful but all beautiful things don't necessarily be a joy forever. Some wax and wane like the moon :) :) Some come forward and recede like the waves...

Saturday, January 19, 2019

Where did I lose my light
Floating with the clouds, suddenly a little too laden with water
Is it the water or is it the little bit of salt in the water which was the undoing
Was it the water in the cloud or was it a little too gladdened heart which burst empty

Walked all day to reach a bright fragrant evening
May be a little too late
May be the lamps have been blown out
The fragrance exhausted
May be the lawn is long since deserted
May be the lamps were never lit
May be lawn was never inhabited
May be I lost my way

I see some glow worms
I will sing the ballad of the nomad lass
Heard some fellow in Hamlin had drawn bundles of pure joy
I will summon a million glow worms
Flicker by flicker the glow of life
I will captivate it,
Gather it in my eyes
Line my eyes with the rainbow
The water in the clouds will then but only add to me
My gaze will colour the world
The world will colour my view
With the wings of dreams my feet will leave the brown beneath
The heart will sail till the toes graze the dewed greens
Till the fragrant breezes push the wings of dreams higher up
Soaring so high that the drops of Manna on the toes sparkle like diamonds
Breaking the light behind the mountains into a seven coloured fan
Will keep soaring high till the air around is cool to my heart's content
So light, when I close my eyes I can feel the weight of my lashes
When I open my eyes, all I see is the green brightness
Clean brightness
The quiet and warmth of His kingdom
Solace, Soothing, healing warmth
Bright, light laughter
Rhythm in gait
I close my eyes again
The warm lids soothe my eyes
The clouds anoint my forehead
I go into a slumber
With the promise of this sleep being reality
Not to be woken up by the cacophony of a different reality
I will walk towards this land, His land
Our cradle, His creation around us


Sunday, January 13, 2019

The risk of no risk

Discover your full potential. Do it one step at a time if it scares you to leave the oars. Do it one inch at a time if it scares you even to get up from the bank and step into the river of life. But don't remain still. Stillness will bring you face to face with the scariest consequence, an inconsequential life.


Don’t ever try to become somebody else’s dream. That is when you lose the freedom to shape your life your own way. It is way more rewarding ...