The tragedy of love

Love is but a beautiful symphony
Of tragedy.
It blooms like the rose,
Between those thorns of pain.
It bleeds into its beauty,
Bedazzling us,
Like the tree’s strength, and capacity to sustain life-
Despite the ooze of sap.
The warmth in the heart:
Like the coal stoking the fire
Until it turns to dead ash.
It is the morning
Like the sun
Spills its blood on the sky...

Without it we are no where.
This, the tragedy of life,
is love.

In the dark meadows of life

In the dark meadows of life
We lie awake, waiting for light to fall on the wet grass.
As we close our eyes for a few moments
We find ourselves contemplating
Beyond the hills, plains and cities,
Beyond the rivers, falls and oceans,
Beyond the chasms, gorges and canyons
... and the world as we know it.
Then we open our eyes again in the dark meadows,
Groping for the new life that flashed before our eyes
and has just
Begun ....

Darkness

It took me by surprise
By silence.
It took me to a blindlessness
I had never thought of before.
Black.
I groped
Fighting, showing it my fists of anger
Frustration and
Helplessness.
Soon,
I let it take over me
Losing hope of an alternate window.
I let it devour me into its depths,
Slowly it savoured each bite.
There were two ways I could take:
Either I picked each piece of my mind and moulded images into my world
Or let this dark world define me into my own being of existence.
The answer was obvious.

शब्दकोश


अनेक शब्द जो छाटपटाते रहते थे,
हमारी उनकी खोज की.
और छाटपटाते हुए पन्नों के बीच
ढूंढ लेते थे कभी.
शेल्फ के सबसे नीचे खाने में
टेबल के ऊपर
राखी थी ये कोष-
आपकी और मेरे बीच की.
हर नया शब्द आपका था
मेरे लिए.
झट खोजकर, कभी भूल भी जाऊं तो
आप वहीँ थे, मुझे याद दिलाने के लिए-
उन दो लम्बे किताबों के बीच में.
कभी बिखरी हुई मेज़ में छिपे हुए,
आपकी चाप हर किताब में
अदृश्य, लिखी थी.
इन शब्दों की डोरी को
जोड़ते थे आप
सवांरते थे
मेरी कविताओं में.
आपके बिना हर वाक्य,
व्याख्या
अधूरा सा लगता था.
शब्दों की डोरी में बस गए थे,
बसे हुए हैं.
में आपको नहीं जान पाई,
लेकिन धीरे-धीरे हर दिन
आपको जानने की कोशिश
शब्दों से-
जरी है.

(बाबा के लिए,
जिन्होंने मुझे लेखन की दुनिया दिखाई, अपनी छाप छोड़कर)

Afraid

I'm not afraid of monsters
That hide under my bed.
I'm not afraid of voices
You say are in my head.

I am not afraid of people,
Who i can never trust.
I am not afraid nails in my skin,
That wither into rust.
I am not afraid of bloodshed,
That finds itself in streets.
I am not afraid of sorrow,
That would feed inside of me.
I am not afraid of forests,
That whisper eerie sounds.
I am not afraid of ghosts,
That wander all around.
I am not afraid of spirits,
That haunt me day and night.
I am not afraid of screams,
That quaver the steady lights.
I am not afraid of monsters,
That live under my bed.
I am not afraid of voices,
You say are in my head.

But I'm afraid of something,
It has always been a mark:
I'm afraid of myself,
I am afraid of the dark.

Even if....

If i were the sun,
Would i rise from the horizon,
Or would i look down from the heights?
If i were the sun,
Would i break the darkness,
Would i ever spread the light?

If i were the earth,
Would i lift the weight of the world,
Or would i bear every plague and knife?
If i were the earth,
Would i breathe everyday,
and everything to life?

If i could fly,
Would i soar to the zenith of the sky,
Or would i level my wings to the sea?
If i could fly,
Would i find my way back,
Will i ever be able to be free?

To words

I have had a passion for writing from ever since i could remember. Poetry is my favorite medium of writing. Perhaps in its incomplete yet complete way of saying so much in so little space is what makes it whole. In its unpredictable way, it has often manipulated me to write about something that i have wanted people to know; about me, about my perception of the world. So, in order for me to reach out to more people, i have made this blog. Hope it serves its purpose .

dedicated to-
words.

Shattered Pieces

After seeing the film 'Black Friday' which is very very long, i got quite shaken up. Poems came to my rescue. The film is exceedingly violent (and ultimately depressing) and is mostly a comment on the way most religious divides are initiated either for personal or political gains. It is commendable the way they have tried to justify the quote of Gandhi:

"An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind."

Shattered glass:

We shattered humanity in the name of god.
Broken pieces:
We stole humanity
in the name of humanity.
Pools of blood-
Horrors of betrayal-
Brothers turned enemies again,
Justice turned injustice again,
Where are we to go now?
Is this the will of god?
or have we
betrayed ourselves

again......

----

Broken trusts.
Broken hearts.
Broken memories.
Broken souls.
All at once,
Broken bodies
seem a just a trifle.

---

The never ending trail of darkness,
engulfs us:
as we go deeper and deeper.
People forgotten.
Memories forgotten.
Love forgotten.
As we lead ourselves into complacency
All is there,

but light.