Thursday, June 28, 2007


Pink and magnificient,
soft petals,
The tender roots,
Nature has given it all
Yet he broods
For he doesnt like the marsh lands
His home, his abode.

He wants to be with the rest,
the lillies, roses and sunflowers
in those magnificient gardens
They allure him, they invite him

And one day God granted his wish.....

Happy he was in his new environ,
the new green home of beauty
Among his brothers and sisters
He was now like them.

Then days passed by,
And he began to feel sad
Now he had become just another flower
another bloom like many,
his uniqueness lost, he repented
realized he did his folly,
The truth was now clear to him
The marshes he so despised
The marshes he thought a blot
The marshes he treated as enemy
Were actually a part of him,
They gave him, his unique beauty.

Wednesday, June 20, 2007

The Scratch

Heavy Traffic
Buses,trucks,cars, rickshaws
All honking, all rushing
Wriggling from one corner to another,
At breathing distance with death
Everyone in rush to reach 'SOMEWHERE'
And so was I.

And then came the giant rickshaw
As he swayed from left to right
He could see no place to go
Yet his senses listened no more

One swoosh to the left
And my car became the victim
A scratch it gifted me
Frown on my face an addition.

Traffic moved, I moved
But the scratch didnt.
It spoilt my car,
and it spoilt my day.
For I am keeping it alive
In my mind,in my memory.
And I know it couldnt do so
If only, I knew how to let go,
If only, I could let go....

Tuesday, June 19, 2007

The Bridge

And I crossed the bridge
Left that garden I had played in,
Had seen my childhood grow,
among the beauty of nature,
among those rosebeds,
among those flowing streams.

Now, on the other side
I see another vast land
of rivers, mountains, flowers
of chirping birds and of beasts
A land that is unexplored,
And I already hate it.
I despise it for I am scared,
Of the unknown.

I trudge along slowly, reluctantly
lost in the thoughts of my childhood
of the garden so green,
of that stream that I now miss.
And I long to go back.

Still living in that garden
I refuse to let go
And as the clock ticks by
I walk with my eyes closed.

Now with darkness increased,
I feel ever more frightened than before
Out of fear, out of sheer despair
I open my eyes again.
Ah! what a sight to behold...
I see the sun kissing those naked mountains,
Inviting me, calling out my name,
They say,"We are all your own".

And then I realize how foolish I was
How naive I could be
The garden I had left behind
Was the gate to higher beauty.
Now I know this truth,
Why God made it this way
The bridge of life my friend,
is just one way.

Friday, June 15, 2007

The Tie

Miles away from my room
A prisoner for the day
I dressed up in tie and suit
In this hot month of may

This tie around my neck
The symbol of my captivity
I sit on this cushioned chair
Pretending smile of dignity

But Inside, I am stifled
For the free blood doesn’t flow
I feel like thorns pricking me
This tie is a thorny rope.

This tie hurts
Binds my breath
It seems like a loosing struggle
Between life and death.


Sitting in this dark room
Lies after lies made true.
And we listen,
Fully knowing the lies camouflaged as truth.

What they will say we know,
What they hide we don’t
Yet knowing what they are upto
We continue to live in false hope.

This is a game my friend
Of deceit and upmanship
It’s the skill of fooling you
Enticing and feeding your ego.

The truth is out there
It’s so visible on their faces
Look at those mock fake smiles,
Hear those made up jokes.
And we are expected to laugh
Take them on face value.

They lost their path years ago
Then they lost themselves
And now they target you
Buying you from your own self

Monday, June 11, 2007


Days have passed,
Nights have flown away
Seems like ages
Since I last wrote,
Gave words to my wandering thoughts.
Itching I am to create something new
To write some creative lines
that reflect, that mirror
what is deep inside.

I wrote about pain,
I sought answers
And now when I have figured it out
When my questions have dried
I feel uneasy, I feel restless
for I have nothing more to write.

My thoughts seem to have deserted me
My mind is no more full.
Emptiness that I longed for
is now making me jittery.

I wonder -
Were my poems feeding my ego
that no more is satisfied?
Is this the freedom I so much wanted
Yet somehow now I despise?