Ocular

The clouds stopped crying and moved aside
Unleashing the sun,
He blazed on unperturbed by the sudden loss
The moon felt amazed the sun didn’t even care
He looked at her pallid face with scorn
She conceded and bore his heat without complaining
And suddenly she was no more.
The two eyes kept wandering,
From the sun and to the moon, to clouds…
It moved on…
And now to those ubiquitous, small things which come falling down
The hands came to the aid.
‘I can’t catch them, they are too small,’
The frown made its remark
‘How small!’
The eyes moved aside and fixed on the wall
‘They aren’t here anymore’
Bewilderment pushed aside despair
Back to the window now,
‘They are falling here!’
Bewilderment egged more…
But no one answered.
The glass…ah the water now…no
‘What are those colours?
One, two, three, four five six, seven…eight?
Eight colurs? Why? Eight, alright? No seven!!
What’s the ant doing here now?
Look at it’s tip…black, orange body…funny!’
They moved again…the bewildered,
The pup sat cuddled on the sand basking!
Its eyes were closed…what’s beside that?
What is that man doing with that wood?
That wood is funny…the man held it underneath his arms
‘Oh he can’t walk!’
The eyes closed and the head turned around
Sound of wood again…the eyes opened,
The door opened…mummy!
Frown swayed, bewilderment followed and vanishedThe eyes closed down…yet they saw!

The floaters inside our mind

They come and go
Leaving me full of their thoughts
Thoughts both heavy and light
And sad and bright!
They know not how evanescent
Some of them are!

The heaviest of them never leave you;
And bring tears in your eyes
Of both joy and happiness!
That’s how they are-
As strange as mirrors!
Showing a different thing about yourself
Every time you think about them

They do not lie
But leave things unsaid
And haunt you in the middle of the night!
Cry as you may,
Laugh as you can,
They remain…and grip you.

Even the most oblivious have them.
For they are unforgettable-
Once they have decided to set into you!
How I wish if I could have some of them removed…
Alas…not even they can remove themselves!

But even they have an end and will pass away
When? Would I be there without them;
For even a single day?
No…they pass away only with me!
I am full of them…are you?

I have decided to love them
To walk with them…
What about you?

Untitled

When uncertainty crops in your mind,
your heart weighs more than your head,
Life reaches that point which
Brings tears in your eyes
Why then do you feel like going back-
to those days…the days which promised,
An unfulfilled dream?
Every breath seems heavy
Life feels like running away from itself
Alas…the heavy heart guides the mind
To memories, memories…the heaviest burden of all!
your foolish senses look for those
Familiar pairs of hands, which promise to come…
To come and wipe the tears,
To come and hold you tight and
To make you feel wanted,
To makes you love life…to make you live!
“Heart…oh you stupid thing!
Don’t take me back to memories.”
They are illusions as unpromising
As the mirage on a desert,
The lies to the truths you were once ready to face!
The answers to the questions
You dared to ask years ago!
“Oh poor old heart…Go…
Seek refuge in tears”
Tears…the companion to the sad heart,
the ever-faithful friend,
Who doesn’t leave u until sadness abates.
Then you close your eyes
to the depth and darkness of slumber
And fade into a world of oblivionOblivion the perfect placebo for deserted selves!

The White Bird

Have you ever heard the white bird sing?
Or does it sing to me only?
It sings me stories of the distant past…
And of the distant present…and the near future!
It calls me by no name but talks to me
And takes me miles away.
Miles away from myself, from this world;
It takes me on a voyage
To a world full of light-
A world of beautiful solitude
A world of peace…a world that is bright
With ‘unthinkable’ thoughts!
Does the white bird know I’m sick?
Does it know that I cry?
Does it know…I’m about to die?
It knows that I lie
When I tell them I’m fine
It chides me not; it hurts me not;
It only looks at me with unmoving eyes
It stays there when I cry
Its stay is comforting,
It brings me hope.
The white bird sings no plaintive tune
Nor all that euphoric either
It’s a tune unique to this bird…
Which makes me forget sorrows
It tells me about the next voyage
Which it promised to take me on.
The journey to the world of light
Who knows what it’s like?
Do you know? Does the white bird know?
I guess it does…
Where is the world of white light?
Why does it want to take me there?
Peace is so alluring!
No more pain…in the world of white light
The white bird tells me so!
But who is this white bird?
Why does it bring me hope when I close my eyes?
It’s real, is it not? I’m sure it is.
Even you will see it…like so many of us who have
Time is young today…not tomorrow!
It will come to comfort you too!

The Middleman

There he goes, the silent man,
He speaks to none, walks alone,
I wonder if he has ever had any friends!
Why can’t he talk to the world?
Is everything so bad about the world?
Doesn’t he find beauty in the shining sun?
Doesn’t he like the birds chirping?
The dewdrops whispering to the wind
Telling it to take them along?
It’s all so beautiful…
Why can’t he see nature?
Why can’t he feel the surroundings?
Why can’t he hear us? Why can’t he hear
Our eyes talking to him?

There walks the thinker?
The purist, the dreamer, the blind man!
He must be wondering why I am so quiet.
Why can’t he just take his eyes off me?
What is so curious about me?
Emotions are not for dreamers?
What will he understand about harshness of life?
The bitter moments which keep on coming back…
The loss of the ones you loved,
The memories mean nothing to the dreamers.
They sleep on their future and have nothing called past
Can’t he hear my silence telling him to go away?
Is it so hard to understand silence?
Is it so hard to read quietness?

I am sure the silent man sees me,
I am sure he wonders what is so curious about him.
Am I only an observer, a lover of nature?
Do I have a past? Why am I like this?
Is it always so easy to ask such questions?
Is he not asking such questions deep inside? He is.
The silent man talks to himself only, why?
Deaf…is he not? He doesn’t hear the future.
He dwells in his past-the sadist!
Past has no future…future belongs to dreamers
Dreamers don’t see what lies ahead,
They hear the future…future is no vision
It’s a sound, which calls…
I wonder why we are so different,
Why do we walk on the two opposite sides of the road?
Who comes here between us now?

The dreamer, I am sure, thinks about
What I see in the past?
Past teaches you lessons…you can see your mistakes
Past makes you see what you have lost,
It brings back memories, emotions…it’s not for the blind
Future…who knows what is there far ahead,
I don’t see future, how will future help?
Can you go back to happiness in future?
Why can’t he fall back, instead of walking ahead?
He doesn’t even know when he’ll hit against that invisible hurdle
Living ahead is so uncertain…is it not?
I often wonder why he’s so far away from me?
He’s a lane away and a few yards further ahead.
Strangeness is a part of the dreamer
He is blind…is he not?
Halt, you there…what is your work between us two?

The walking man laughs,
He looks at the two of them
He sees what the silent man sees
He hears the dreamer…
He stays in the middle,
A little ahead of the silent man, and
A little behind the dreamer!
He keeps quiet and his silence speaks to both-
They answer him back,
They feel through him,
He connects them…they interact!
Why can’t they hear the call of the present?
Why can’t they see the moment?
Why can’t they open their senses and feel…
You cannot feel if you are blind, you cannot feel if you are deaf
You only feel if you are neither…
Open them; your senses…walk with me…
Hear the present…see the moment.