Wednesday, June 30, 2010

I Know a Star!

Find her...find her...


The consciousness grows near,

With the distant calling of hawks,

Like a defiant storm in a rain-shadow,

It crafts its way on the rocks…

It glides, it sways, it bends away

Where it fears a crouched stranger

And ricochets off the Himalayan eyes

To remain deep under forever.



Though the floundering eyes

Know all the signs

Of the approaching thunder,

It will not shriek and cower

Inside the stark fault-lines.

Pity in the long run of yards,

You knew so little that you knew her...

She gave you life, she gave you trysts

And you gave in for her...


Stone-headed with hope this time,

Your rhymes all merge to slurs,

They dim away like a frigid star

To die to give respite to a million desires.

They keep awake the consciousness still…

Tip-toeing across the moist grass,

A little girl with a basket in hand

Of morning twinkles and scarlet flowers...


Two lines, that never rhymed

At the age of four...

Two times, the word repeats---

The last time she shone!

Tuesday, June 29, 2010

I missed you,too.

Mud-pies in the rain

Shall be washed away,

Snowmans in the snow

Shall crystallize alone…


I hear the deranged birds of the sea,

Cooing to the waves to slow down,

To cease in their relentless footfalls,

Where they bury the turtle-nests…

Almost extinct now, like the innocence

That somehow missed me, and I miss it too…

Hello, I missed you…

Was there a night, a slurry diary night,

Polluted sheens in the skies I would cite,

As secrets were still secrets and lies were lies,

When I would miss crouching on the window-sill…

Staring into space in a direction I would feel

Slept my first love…

Yet…I missed you…

There was a girl, who sat next to me

Who spoke with her eyes, but couldn’t cry.

She left her books in a tidy pile, and one day…

I wrote in them my unflinching ‘goodbye’.

We met again, we sat again…

But her eyes never spoke to me,

I missed the page, which she should have missed…

With my ‘sorry’, written on it…


Oh, lonely, drenched evening kites,

Forgotten, tangled and estranged slights…

Home of joys, now homeless by night,

Who will miss them tomorrow?

Sighs. Their quavering, articulate sighs.

That held them afloat all this time.

Sighs. Alone.

And as the rumour goes, mimicking these kites

Time also flies—not in the wind, not with the birds…

But time does know how to fly…

Till the ink runs dry, and sighs expire…

And second chances become extinct too…

Chances that somehow missed me at first,

Hello, I missed you too.


I am walking behind a queue today,

Waiting for my turn…

Patience runs low seldom,

Though man at the counter is slow…

The ride to here was on a one-way road

It was raining, it was rain-washed

I missed a few signals, yet the ride didn’t last…

I missed a few turns; I missed many road-signs,

I missed them all, but time still flies…


Mud-pies in the rain

Shall be washed away…

Snow-mans in the snow

Shall crystallize alone…

Castles in the air
And runaway trains...
Shall always remain...
Frozen and
Brutally extinct.