Friday, November 29, 2013

Calmness Endures

                   Calmness Endures.
          The   puff of  steam
          hurriedly go ,stay and settle
         on the green coloured   
         hard ,thick,  window  panes,
        till  I go deft to wipe them off.
         Also  a  kettle with soot
        chuckles  as if terribly  
        weaned   off  an evil.  
        It is  the hot  puff of  steams
       Piercing  my nostrils   clogged
       by   cold  and subsequent  sneeze.  
       The pictures afar, on the wall
        don’t  blow, or fritter,
        stay  double calm.

      

Tuesday, November 26, 2013

Seasonal Shifts In Your mind

In the  winter of  your life,
wrinkles  criss-cross , the skin
loose, like  haberdasher’s
 garments  hanging.
Altered  by swift  currents and
Cross-currents,   fetish with
The free, uninterrupted  flow
Of writing, you  are in  for
a  deliberate   pause.
You   brood of  those
Summer  days, how
best summer could have
been  spent, summer  showers
have delighted you, the  sacred
pots in your garden,
little  realize  that dark,
Dull, Emissary , one day
will knock at your door,
Collage  with  your  aging
and  desire  for  unaging   process.


Monday, November 25, 2013

Helen! Don't Come Near Us.

Helen! Don’t come  near us.

Helen!  Don’t  think we will be
dancing  with you. Decked by the
frills  of  wavy, white,
 gauzy garment, your pride,
 prerogative.  We are content,
safe ,drinking  the minerals ,from
where  we are.  Not at all eager,
share your  full energized   orgy.
A core of  us ,crave to lead
Our lives, ordained  by The Supreme.
Our boundary  line is land.
Dare  not  trespass .
( Helen is the name of the Cyclone,formed in India)


A humble take on '' I am nobody! Who are you?''

A  humble  take on   ‘’ I am  nobody! Who are you?

 I am nobody!   who  are you?
I am  insignificant  speck,
A void, rudderless ship,
not knowing what for my birth,
My existence, a straw,
thawed   by  twists, shifts,  turns
of  plotted   villainy  and
vituperation. Quirky
circumstances  changed
life’s turn and   it sustains
on  a shaky  keel.
You  are a   Sage, Seer
with  extraordinary
 visionary  Powers,
an exorcist  to   drive away
 the   mad passions
gripping  the vile
and   seditious ,

though a  slow  process.

Sunday, November 24, 2013

A Take on winter Storm's Mad Organ Playing.


Those  vile, crazy  in the
grip of  battle guns,  exchange
their  prowess.
The city is in the grip of
Fear  and vendetta  striking:
Sombre November splashes
its rains  and vultures
in  blood bath,
Hellish  darkness spiralling,
For  Moon  hides  her  Face
Beneath the interface
Where  thundering winter’s
mad  organs  roving,
dying  soldiers'  lips mutter
these last words to their
women in  anguish,
 ‘’Be bold, take care
Of our children, for
We come for a cause ‘’.


                                                              


Thursday, November 21, 2013

Melting Grass

       Melting  Grass.
We  are   a   good, not at all
 seditious  bunch  of  grass.
Silly, stuff, cordoned off,
getting  unduly drenched,
in the flooding waters,
overpowering rains that
mercilessly  sweep us all,
immersed, we get decayed.
Yet, in golden summer days,
We are segregated ,divided
to   accommodate  fresh,
 green leaves ,in between,
 how mercenary they are!



Wednesday, November 20, 2013

She goes off

          She  goes off

By the cool, passing rivulet,
A  corner to cordon off my anguish.      
I get on the   promenade, pain  lingering .
The path  brews  acceptance.
Innocently, the plant shimmering
With violet flowers, waves,
inadvertently, I plucked one violet:
 thoughts  submerged, threw it off.
Tomorrow’s   straight, resplendent
beams  miss. Bees  are for  dismay.
Placid  violet, not turning, merges
with  the  mainstream. I look on.  




Tuesday, November 19, 2013

Truama Of The Dying

The   Seasonal  cycle  takes its turn,
Summer‘s   terracotta   recedes,
bids  adieu  to  the  Gardener,
This bitter Winter, Why should  I
Call it bitter, it follows its norms,
The ornamental, Curtain’s   twist and roll,
in the gaps, my peep outside:
some jolly, more  to   jettison the  angst
of fear, survival and  torment,
they live for  the  ‘today’ , the moment.
Not far away, the uncaring, careless,
 the wrestling ,warring humanity,
the  twang of   surgical  instruments
don’t  disturb me  anymore.
The  ward  boys  move about  mechanically,
I  stretched out my legs, relax,
On this cot which bore many
moving  in out often.  
Sit   up, look at the wall,
The clock ticks, tick! Tick!
It  is  the Timer.




Sunday, November 17, 2013

Nothing can stop these.

 Nothing  can stop these.
Hark!  These  Nightingales  are
Sweet. Lull your ruthless anger.
But they look as if  they care not.
Warlike pellets of words,
like  gunshots in the air,
mutual exchange of vendetta,
all   for  land  and gold,
the same  is the gruesome
even in home front,
fallen an impassioned slave
to infectious ,malicious  urge.
Impatient  soldiers in khaki   uniforms,
Even  security guards are subdued
by  this acrimonious , garrulous  spot,
what picture of Madonna ?
what    Monalisa   smile could
mend these  adamant?
Warfront  or home the

Same is the scene.

Thursday, November 14, 2013

My Grandmother Now Chuckles

My   grand mother  now chuckles.

She  is on the last  cubicle,
Laid on the floral bed,
for  many  came to pay
respects   to her,
she swallowed much silent and sober,
curled    like a nine year old child,
nonagenarian  shrunken to
this   state:  age’s cruel play. 
Once  the pillar of the house.
Treated  with  pepper, chanting ,
 those  that came for Scorpion bite,
herself  a  flourishing  Tulsi plant.
I recollect, her deft, seasoned hands,
how she would cook green, leafy
and   serve the inmates patiently,
she  would sit on the  concrete mound
outside  and wait for me,
A great soul, now gone,
to a better zone.



Monday, November 11, 2013

Our Prerogative

                   

Your  p lough, your meaning of life,
 on your  customized  shoulders,
Watch rabbit out of the burrow,
 Till your apportion   land,
curd, rice and  pickle in  duress of  strain,
fear   if  rain  fails us all,
Carnival to the Sky and Sun,
 Porridge and rice overflowing

On the  broad   leaved etiquette .

A Walk Into Wilderness.

    A walk into wilderness.
A hoary moment  of isolation  and despair
takes  you  for  a walk in the wilderness,
saggy, almost falling leaves,
driven out of their  privileged homes,
one can powder  them then and there,
rugged   stems, the airless ,emptiness,
powered  by seasonal  shifts, uncanny   
elements of visitations, I could  see,
some burnt pieces of wood, ashes,
ritualistic, supernatural ,or factual
must have mutilated them.
Could it be some curse working
Upon  them, know not. Birds
 demure  entry, not wanting
to  those ,once  they frequented
the  opulent,   succulent off springs.
I pray, some  sage must come
down  to  perform a carnival
to transform  the neglect.




Sunday, November 10, 2013

Surplus kneels before Survival

She  is  not   a mocking  bird.
Believes in  diligence and independence,
Pecks  on the solitary,marauded ,  broken bone.
Survival is her immediate  necessary instinct,
Winter’s cold rings   still hanging out,
flies  to the other pre-emptied   pinion,
The dried  fallen  neem leaves,
Of  what   use are they now?
The   sturdy bone  moves not
Sticking  on the dried hinges.



Friday, November 08, 2013

Mapping On Egg.

I imagine a plastic egg
On my table mahogany,
dip my brush in gentle blue,
Embellish strokes of painting,
Sketch  Heathrow in its global
Majesty and international air  traffic ,
Saunter about   Thames   and Trafalgar square
Circumnavigate   in grids of    avidity and diligence,
The   egg tossed up down
In a see-saw landing pose
By the speeding fan,
My mapping is done.


Wednesday, November 06, 2013

A dead wood I was

         I  was a dead wood  
drifting  along, the spooky  path
of  maze  and intrigues,
the   scary foam  of waves  surge
 a whirl  of  surreal  in  me,  
tossing   me up and down,
the mariner’s compass,
holds   a dumb  charade
at the moment  of  travesty,
Your  advent   is the
Enlightenment of  Beacon.

Halo  glows  ever.