She

She has so much within to shower
But the soul that triggers her is only the one which doesn’t need to be quenched
She is the moonlight,
but the luminescence that draws her is the sun itself.
She so yearns to be awaited, to be sought eagerly.
But what pulls her is calm personified
She revers the desire of the first man for the first woman
What enthralls her is the monk like poise
She is the river itself, but what satiates her is the thirst for the sea
She revels in wisdom, but what enlightens her is the conquest of the curious man

There she goes .........

There goes innocence.....
A pair of hawaii on her feet,
strands of hair swaying with her gait from side to side,
as carefree as her heart, as light, as free of burden,
barring the ones held back by the plastic red band,
A gait that has taken its bounce from life or has inspired the bounce in life....... hard to figure,
Her skirt unsymmetrically tied to her waist, fluttering with the rythm of the wind,
The rythm her vibrant breath has taken from the wind or given to the wind..... its hard to tell.

A bag half open clung to her shoulders...from within peeped the riches, happiness, carefreeness, childhood, reassurance, security, bliss.... a heart of Gold.... sigh. I looked at my own and got embarrased at the amount of dust and soot it was covered in having burnt at the altar of wisdom, wealth, position, pride. How can it turn golden again.....?

I could not take my eyes off her, as I was about to cross her she looked back n smiled.

Alas.... if on some such cross road of life my innocence could smile back at me.....

Would he be as mad.... ?

Would he really stop his galloping white horse at my sight against the black clouds ?

Would he love the rains as much as I do ? 

Would he spend hours gazing at the floating clouds, with the moon playing hide-n-seek ?

Would he let the wet breeze caress his hair for eternity and still want for more ?

Would he stop by on his way just to smell the wet earth ?

Would he be as mad as to run to the terrace in the middle of the night just to welcome the untimely rain ?

Would he take welcoming it every time it starts as his religion ?

If you call it madness, pray would he be as mad as me ?

The sea

Standing at the sea shore, facing it I wonder, it is so much similar to living... this standing at the shore.


Only the person who stands through small and big waves, breezes and wild, strong winds; getting his feet buried deeper in the sand all the while, can see the hopes in the optimistic, wonderful morning... okay may be a hard sun but nonetheless a bright sun, the romantic evening, the intelligent evening, the dark night, the cold night, the starry night, the night full of dreams, the inspiring, hinting, promising moon.


The one who walks away misses out on all of these.




Note: This is something I had written in 2004. Pardon the dreamyness.