Honored by Usha Ma'am & Rukhiya


>> Jun 30, 2008

Then you will List ,

--your Tooth brush and My tooth brush
--My Shaving cream
--Your cosmetics
--My books
--Your music player
--My clothes
--Your clothes
--A comb that we will share.
--Some medicines

I will check
And pick up the pen
To add

+ --My Love
--Your love?

of all the things,
it had to be mentioned
if for once we forget
To leave it behind.

And pretend
We didn't ,
till date.


[Stone me .I know weirdness has its limits]



>> Jun 29, 2008

A collage of memories
bring in autumn leaves
To my window.
A heart that rejoices lonesome
interiors and admires
Abstract arts ,
is poisonously indefinite,No?

Though turtles race
Abjecting time ,why can not
I ?
Is this the reason
You paint the smoky sky
With different shades?

Wishes abounds fill the
palette of my senses
with coloured glasses
As I observe gray streets
from kaleidoscopes.

But when its black,
How will you protect
My fragile self
being unreal ,

For its only Your touch
What speckles the diamond ring
from the eclipse that
blots me black .


P.S.--I hate doing this but

lemme put my visions.I know its not to be discovered unless its told.But try to match the far fetched analogy if possible.Time =society , turtles = the scientists who used to spoon feed religious preachers of then , kaleidoscope is said to be Galileo's invention first , You is obviously God , 'when its black' means when ppl r not to see the truth how can u speak the truth out and only an eclipse could prove earth goes round the Sun not the other way around.That was his diamond ring of quest.And the last black is what makes him blind as he grows older but eclipse never came.

that is why it is Uneclipsed.

Galileo was a great admirer of art too :)

Thank you for your patience!!



>> Jun 28, 2008

All the emotions
I could give words to ,
have somehow dried up with
my infidelity with pauses.
Now ,they come at once,
all too many and
I find myself at loss with
some rough sketches that were
never coloured to poetry.

Thoughts have
left me with some sheets of papyrus
which mock me with criss crosses
that are too blue and too frequent.

So I travel only in winters
To laugh at the naked trees ,
To wink at your rough exterior
And to redeem myself with
companionship of being deprived.

Still , quite unfairly
A cold wind blows
Through the windows
and nudges my notebook
as it strips itself up
from prologue to rest ,
That I had shown dreams to
of being limitless.
But now,
At the verge of perdition
it takes revenge of
of its countability,
baring all.

An epilogue awaits.
and now
So do I .




>> Jun 25, 2008

On moments such as those
Sleep used to be pregnantly
due for months ,
When you ,quite in haze with
your own assurances
Used to break the peace
With your belongings,your acquaintances
And your parties.

Pandemonium had a sweet social
escapade in 'gatherings' --
the way you termed it
leaving me lonely,miserably alone
On a bed that was comfortable for two
and misplaced for one,
night after night
And yet another followed.

So when we got separated ,
Finally in social eyes ,
I thought of the days
I couldn't sleep because of
The noise that distancelessly
Formed a bubble
In between us
And burst one day due to
my pinpricked tolerance.

Then ,like a happy story ends
With a spongy touch to heal
The pains I had suffered ,
I set my eyes closed
Only to realize
there was too much of silence
That night.

I cried to fill in the void
I sank myself in.

Either way,
An Insomniac.



Theatrical only ?

>> Jun 24, 2008

He creates the backdrop,
the lights and the shades.
The curtain is coloured blue ,
detailing situational turnarounds ,
The sets ,the floors ,
the bends.
And You enter
as if unknowingly ,
Unnoticed ,questioning your
own existence at that brink.

Where in that stage
The protagonists play aloud,
Act with authority
And remorse in silence ,
You stand under the sea of darkness
Only to be a nobody but one.

You clap after scenes ,
swing with the way the
the puppeteer prompts invisibly
to your emotions ,
timing your tears and laughs to
Rich benefits, since you
see nothing but real illusions.

Only the events alter
And time ticks on
As you play the part of a
mute spectator .

One day your pink hopes
Dilute in the colourless wishes
of too many shades
and leaves you amazed
As another curtain falls...

And never rises




>> Jun 13, 2008

When I am not here,
One day
May be the sepiatic sun-rays
Of dying afternoon
Will haze my picture at
the wall.
And you ,
On that spur of the
Moment will miss me from
Missing Us.

For some memories
That would suffice such
Momentary pain ,
That I was so relieved at
being in love,
You will search my cupboards,
Drawers for something
That would play the
Narcotic to your restlessness.

If ever ,
You find that red diary,
with parchment glues and
Dying fountain inks,
You will get to know dear
Of chapters I never shared
Even with you.

You will realize
Why I didn't let you
In to the Whole of me
Love to fill in
for those unexplained pages.

Some pigments are too acidic
No ?




>> Jun 12, 2008

Yet again in this world
An unruly Goliath will slay David ,
Another Judas will stab Jesus
and we will count numbers after
the world wars ,
The victims ,the anguishes ,
the helplessness.
You will watch from
Inside your house
sheepishly,waiting an unreasonable fear.
A normal death
Would be so comfortably
Unexpecting. Isn't it ?

And then after the show ,
When you tranquilize your
with sips of alcohol ,
You will read out some prophecies loud
and go to bed
To pounce upon your prey.
And it will iterate.

Life will recycle
Until one day ,

You will blame the
Sand clocks for not being
Except the midnights.




>> Jun 8, 2008

You offer me Clouds
I offer you rains,
So that I pour down
Unto you .

You offer me a glass
I delude opacity
So that eyes don't miss
Each other ever.

You offer me words,
I prefer silence ,
So that you speak
And I listen forever,

You write me a poetry,
I offer you me.
To live beyond the parchments
of words,

I live
In you,
Without pauses.



The Hungry Tide

Inspirations Continue...

  © Blogger templates Romantico by 2008

Back to TOP