Thursday, September 30, 2010

While he bites the ice .....

                   While he bites the ice......






When he bites the iced water
Of the blocking cakes visible ,
from the transparent pet jar of
his ten year old fridge , cool and carefree,
mocking man, for his frozen and moribund
attitude, overrated by a pretentious cult of
nonchalance and indefatigable synergy,
while he drinks the beauty of the dark eyed,
flowing into dithyramb , the future which
he revels into a mellifluous song
becomes a dark, dark chamber of commerce
irretrievable . He still stares at the pet jar,
white iced blocks stumbling in the neck
ready to pass through his throat. His
transparency is reduced into zero.



Wednesday, September 29, 2010

What a difference!

What a difference!


My Labrador does not sulk in the
Corner of my broad garage
but with its accustomed, massive,
wary, watchful look purveys
the surveyor and the casual passersby.
the white spongy , tail wagging,
Puppy, my puppy , now sudden
crosses with a dried bone
dexterously holding or handling.
Limpid or dried what does it matter?
there goes a woman in synthetic sari,
half covered and half let loose,
yet holding that cloth bag tight,
with unassumingly simple cloth bag,
not to provoke any suspicion
not nitwit, but meticulously arranged
carrying not papers but sins of supple
and manipulated texture, lithe , forged
and implied fornications,
denigrations of Gods,
she amply furthers , not knowing
when fallen , kicked and given Dog’s treatment.



Tuesday, September 28, 2010

When I close my eyes..

When I close my eyes........

When I close my eyes, to turn away
from those conceited , turgid, engulfing
sights of scenes and segments,
avoiding a geometrical turbulence,
surrealistic escape into calmed meditation,
You look up the unaging firmament:
what are those glittering stars?
Each star is a triumph of the newly transported,
mocking at the ground, you wonder
if it is a virtual representation
of the departed soul, adieu to the
agonising soil of clutter and grim battle.
I stare at those unfading stars,
Silent shining voices of the demented.



Sunday, September 26, 2010

In my Space...

              In my Space .....


In my space of ten by ten , small
room, zig zagged tiles, white cement
blocks yet to be evened by the labourer,
Definitely no white ants spotted,
Masons’ finger marks on the wall,
Inadverantly placed foot marks
when leaned against, either
to be construed cautious lizard
Or a sunflower or even a plant
to be watered and nourished.
within the salient four walls,
a miniature show enacted,
Improvised theatrical ambience,
A docile indoor game,
no sound of acoustics,
No water splashes , no
rants of the villain , me
performing the soliloquy
 the wall figures  stare on.

Thursday, September 23, 2010

Krishna consciousness

               Krishna consciousness

Krishna! I beckon upon you
with your coxcomb like
Peacock feather stemming from
Your bluish forehead,
Yourself immersed in self,
Yet permeating the Universe,
Playing upon your nimble
flute emitting supple melancholy
Notes, Oh! Where are you now?
Oh! Krishna, I am the lone sufferer,
On the Seam of intended
seamless existence, it is
a sheer struggle for survival,
Long ago you said ‘ fight it out’
In the battlefield.
You addressed a different audience,
But is it possible for me now?
Unable to counteract the slings
and arrows and mud
cast in a subtle way?
Why Krishna this pallid
State of confusion?
The battle delivered a
Message for all times.
The Gita was born,
The Gita is torn asunder,
Pages are misread, under suspension,
Oh! Krishna, come to reset,
Be a devout surgeon to
Perform this lobotomy,
Krishna ! be apart of us.

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Heather she is

                   Heather She is !




Heather she is ,
Steady and smart ,
not to be blown by the whiff of
the speedy wind,
The purple of her nature
would not subdue her:
Purple and dignified
would she brave the
manoeuvre and malefic.

Saturday, September 18, 2010

A wish

      A wish



I desire not a wish/a feeling ,
the Swashbuckling hero, the
Predestined existence jumps
and rolls amidst this vagabond:
why this life, why this movement
battling and bayoneting, stifling
your peace, sanguine temper?
The inerasable question is
always there, altercation with the self,
what is happening to those,
the dead and unduly deceased,
thwarted even before they could
fully grasp their meaning of their lives?
Happening always happening,


the bat flies through the self same
window of smoke and dangling
cobweb , blown by the whiff of air,
may be the soot resettle elsewhere,
they don’t have a mouth to cry?
Dumb, or benumbed, oxidised
Settling in pleasant asylums
as they come their way.

I wish not a desire/ a feeling,
I wish not a desire/ a feeling.

















Monday, September 13, 2010

On burning..

         On  burning.
I see Silicon burns and reduces,
but many unextingusihed unabated desire
like a Maudling whack erupt,

In the ritual like many of us
are stacked in . The balustrade is only a pretence.
Spooky smoke and fire continue to burn:
they throw in the fire the cloth bound doll to burn
Somebody’s life, a way of black magic:
Unable to burn their debilitating thoughts ,
a holistic approach, burning like hellfire grows,
somebody is burning forest trees too.

Friday, September 03, 2010

Naked but not wicked.

Naked but not wicked...


The Once upon a time full blown nonagenarian
swallowed setbacks, swam through shortcomings,
waving the green flag of serendipities,
Icon of sacrifice and advice for the
Hamlet , honest and delectably naive;
Her shattered visage foresaw a world
Not Beyond her cumulative wisdom:


Now her trouble less , yet NOT detour journey,
She is reduced to a child on the coffin,
The pall bearers don’t feel the weight,
Some hungry hawks remove the silk sari
On her dried thews and sinews ,
as the man in charge places the sandal wood
Logs burning a sense of eternal glory.