Honored by Usha Ma'am & Rukhiya


>> Feb 25, 2009

I will confess to the tree
About the times I had spent underneath
with you.

Rain tastes the same, feels the same
Brings back you and memories

I see sunrays draw many a tangents
Through the window over the shelf
Where you and I reside, mute, in albums.

You died once.
I die many a deaths each day.

For remembering you at moments when I wish not
And for I wish if I could remember at some others.
The flames overwhelm from both sides.

I jump.

I love winters for nature is at loss then.
Just like me.

And for memories that burn me from within,
I become a victim
Where life plays voodoo and I lose us,
All too often.



All that is, Who are Lost

>> Feb 18, 2009

Sometimes I stand near the window-
Old fashioned, rusty with fading colors.
It shows me an eyeful of sky
Where clouds conspire and turn black.

Clouds are like memories, no?
You know it will rain, but when.

I see the quiet lane in a midsummer noon.
On one such day my kittens ran away
And never came back.
I wish if I could see them once, right now.
I hope they are alive. They will surprise me one day.

Do you think cats have emotions?

I see the gulmohar tree.
Under which you had held my hand and promised...
...Promised to hold my hand, forever. Never.

The gulmohar lives on. So do I and you, may be.
All apart, distant, as three incidents who never met.

Do you think trees have memories?
I wish the gulmohar will die.

I wonder why do I talk of pain,
Of them who have left me,
Of the kite orphaned in the vast sky,
for paper boats that never return.

All that is lost can always be found.
I cry for all that remains but can't be mine,...

...For the memories of a moth
Who dived into the fire one night
To become a glowworm.



Of Ecstasy...

>> Feb 10, 2009

Beyond the horizon lies the gray
that rests between your feet, delicately.

Waves ripple and glide past the footsteps,
Silently washing off your prints afar,
Uncomplaining in tender reverence.

You raise your arms as if to embrace the sea.
I see twilight, I feel air gently hushing by.

The crimson Sun is at its last breath
And caresses you with quiet blessings.

As your innocence reflects upon
the gracing Sun and the soothing sea

I stand mute and mesmerized...
... Oblivious of the rest as the triad touches me

And I cry, just.


[p.s. -> This post of mine is inspired by the picture atop.

I thank Jennifer for letting me share this. And this piece goes to Angel.]


The Hungry Tide

Inspirations Continue...

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