Flowing - Nile

As nile moves,
in short steady paces
Meets he, old-new faces
       Now he slows
       Takes a turn
       Slowers his movements
       As he learns

Nile has stopped
He has seen
Changed the colors
Of places, he has been
      Now, ready he is
      To move out high
      He drowned memories
      He bade goodbye
 
Nile in glee
Is blessed to be free
He's extended firth
To meet his sea
      In sea, He'll find
      The reasons to bind
      He'll become the whole
      To meet his soul

mum!

sense of being secured

Is it human nature to hold others responsible for all failures? Probably, previously when my cell used to ring I used to be happy; now, like me it has also become quiet. I am in love with this deafening quietness of myself. I have grown habituated with it. There is a continuous growth of these comfortable silences. Call it spaces, call it escapism, but it is me. Quiet, very quiet. I talk a lot nonsense with other mortal beings around me, the more I speak, the more the walls grow profound. It might even be that I am in a state of vacillation, trying to decipher whether the words should be out in open. Words hurt, yes they do. They do the most when they are truth. And yes, I have hurt ma with words. Still when I think of the words that were spoken, I sigh. I can sense the fingers turning cold. It is easy for a mother to forgive her child, but is it that easy to forgive yourself when you realize the damage. You don’t need big fights or a scene to spoil a relation, just a small gesture can put a death nail to it. As she says, relations are the most delicate things here. Be it with your mother or yourself. It needs to be taken care, once you fail and it's all gone. Ma I don’t know how to mend it, you are matured I know, but still I am scared.
Here I grow silent again!

Just me!

As they rightly say that every homecoming breeds a new skin, sometimes making us stronger and sometimes more detached. Do we all know what we are looking for? Well, I must confess that I’m still confused. I really don’t know what I want. What I am shunning myself from or is it just as rightly said is a mental block? From the city that healed most of my wounds to the city that make my bruises new, no wonder that even this visit left me wounded more! Now, after meeting plethora of expectations I have started revolting. I want to be me, little selfish but quiet; in fact very quiet. I think listening is the best way you can escape many troubles. Have I started pretending even to my mother? Don’t know, but yes I have pretended to be happy. I met all the known faces this time, leaving one whom I think I have left behind. But again I question, is the behind really behind. Still, I find this behind to be too much accessible, as if I need to just call a name. People just remind you of all the things that you want to close. Wish I had a lock that doesn’t have a key. Do we all get what we deserve? I have started poking myself with too many questions, no comma and definitely not a period. Time has just moved and it’ll be a year very soon. However, above all these things petty emotions I need to acknowledge one thing; I have moved away from many people. They don’t bother me at all. Though at times for the sake of respect, for mother, for society, for obligation, or as you say duty I flesh out some finance here and there or fake a smile, but I know what exactly I do! Funny isn’t it? We grow up, we grow out, or we just become selfish! Yes selfish, that is what life has taught me these last six months. You need to learn to be selfish. The moment you accept, some use you, some expect more, some despise, and yet others rebuke. What I have transformed into I don’t know, and I don’t want to know. I need to focus. Just one at a time − prudently and maturely for when I purchase the next flight ticket to come back to this city I don’t know whether I’ll be excited or it’ll be just yet another selfish act. I hope that selfishness just doesn’t triumph against my simple humanity.

'lore

lanes of 'lore

A fiction is best when it sleeps tightly cuddled in reality. A reality that draws its nourishment from diurnal sunrises, rains, after rain somberness, silent nights, and nighlessness. ‘lore is lonely, infact, forlorn. The city breathes an air of independence. The trees cajole your silences; words drown here in the innumerable narrations of brief pauses. Either you are too crowded or you are too alone here. You might meet an abrupt relation, which you might not even repent to hold on to. ‘lore is a quiet song whose lyrics are lost in the meandering walks of tranquility. However, sometimes this peace irks you, holds you down, and buds a longing for something. But what is this longing? Is it just that the loneliness screaming in your head? Is it something that you have never cared for or didn’t even womb in your heart of heart? ‘lore ushers a warmth, a placenta that bears your fetus of imaginations secure. Even after miles and miles of walking and strolling your legs keep on wanting for some more distances to be covered. ‘lore touches your heart more than your head. It promises to keep you away from the high sun. When you are lost in of these similar looking streets, you don’t feel the fear of unknown. Somewhere it seems that the lonely, deserted lanes will take you “home.” A home where you might not be able to do things that you want, but where your words, emotions, dreams eagerly wait to give you a warm hug and make you fall asleep soon. ‘lore has taught me longing, a kind of craving. Little wings of desires keep on humming, following, and teasing me through the lanes of ‘lore.

birth-day

I really dont want 21st august to come to me this time.

Walks

Evenings held the key
To our mistful memory
The nauseating roads wane
Penning our mundane
Those droopy tress speak
When our words grow tired and bleak

Then, strangers walk and spell
In immorality they dwell

As nights crawl down last
We look for our doors in haste
A part of each is taken this night
Like the moon reflects itself in tide

Words

I found a word in every thought
Seldom sold and seldom bought
I found a penny in thy name
Saved it till, from your frame

I lost a phrase in every dream
My severed hope, flowed in brim
I saw you come, I saw you leave
I saw my life stand in brief

I sold few moments to my fate
I lost my words in a debate
Often now I think of you
In my walk, in my blue

Now our words have lost its charm
Yet, we thought not to harm
Now we speak of mundane life
Of a long day's work, of our strife

I see you prosper, I see you win
Where will I go, in between?
I question days, I answer nights
I am guilty of all my fights

Now that you have turned
And took your voice
I throw some words, I make some noise
In my silence, now I wait
But I know that its too late

Quietness

Stillness of water
Sleeping quiet
Speechless thoughts
When words stand cross
Spoons of illusion
Feeding my mind
With passing of clock hands
That made me blind
Silken quietness deceive
Hibernating through its winter
Inked a request On-your-leave
Quietness winged from my hands
It walked away in distant lands
Quietness veiled, in deep sea sailed
It anchored deep, as it nailed
Quietness came and quietness went
It made me stand as you lend

Life

I dont feel you,
I cannot see,

As you are not me.

I dont breathe you,
I cannot stay

As we move each other away

I dont listen to you
I cannot wait

As I dont even hate

letter

Dear M or N or S,

I really dunno how to address you, you are all the initials I have used when I spoke to you, I am speaking to you, and I will speak to you. Its raining, hard very hard. I am drenched to be in the last rain of this city. The city that has gnawed my past, ripping apart a present I wanted to live. The rains come down to drain all of it, i can see blood all over, I have been murdered, I stand as a mutiliated soul - in the catacomb of this city - a city of joy, of love, of hatred, of pain. I see pain when it rains for the last time; as I give words to myself never to return. I have barren my thoughts, my fragile thoughts, my more trusted thoughts. I want to take that step, to set my foot on a novel thing as I wont fail you, I will - here I give my words ... but leave me tonight for the last time I want to burn myself in this yester, cry, rant, shout, break my voice to pronounce that nile has dried, it cannot harbour civilization. Its crippled, cold, dead. For tomorow will be another day and I will be another being.

luv,
S, B

The Japanese Wife!

 How do I put the entire visual journey in words? The film is a continuous picturesque, a photographic genius. The narration is an illusion. I missed Amitav Ghosh and Hungry Tide most of all. The mangrove forest, sundarbans, matla as tipsy a person can be even without a single malt. Rahul Bose has a screen presence, but I bow to Sen who has simply vanished that Bose charm. He was at times invisible, a thing that at times exists but often ignored. I went quiet after Mr. and Mrs. Iyer, but here I felt somewhere the scent of Arabia was lost while delivering its fragnance. I am little sad!

Guilt

Am guilty,
Here, I stand all alone
Feeling cold blood in bone

Am guilty,
Even when tied by fate
Still ranting in a fateless debate

Am guilty,
Of breaking the perfect
Taking us in a storm of stake

Am guilty,
For failing your alphabets
For turning pawn to rational baits

Am guilty,
For speaking that might not have been spoken
For denying my apostle’s token

Am guilty,
For death, for denial, for silence
Mulling on the hence

Am guilty, guilty, guilty
The courtroom stood
In no mood
To hear me cry
They took a sigh
They said: am guilty
In denying the decree
In the eyes of law
I stood as flaw
So, here I stand
In your hand
Saying
Am guilty!

"My Last Pause ...

Who understood the fault

Until lives cried in halt

Where,

Forlorn moments climbed in silent toe

Nostalgia arranged itself in row

Eventhough,

her warmth summons me

But, my ego neglects her identity

I repent,

still, my mind is sugared by evil

I ask,

Was this knot so feeble?

At eighty, still I think of her

The stop that took her so far

The contrite that eats me today

could have faded and

brought a stroke of may

Now, both tears and smiles dry

Competence of age summons to try

           








S-t-a-y

There it spoke something -
Short, yet vague within
Angled it stood to be taken,
Some letters grasped, some forsaken.
Waited quietly on your glass pane -
Voicing silently our alphabets in vain
Some songs are yet to be sung,
Other poems slept clung.

From a corner of your eye,
You heard some noise as it try,
To break the silence of a mind
To gather language from behind.
The paper fluttered once more -
Painting contours of your sore,
As lights went lo’
Drifting and slow.

Holding it on,
You sat rocking for long
Time kept counting your moves
Skipping memoirs that disapproves.
Knocking answers grew wild
Some subdued, yet none mild.

Hold me new
Make me old
Cover me warm
In every fold
Now we laugh
Then we cry
What’ll happen?
If we stop our try
In all your forms
In every way
I feel like saying
Will you stay?

SHADES

 This time is like your silhouette,
 Following me through the stairs;
 That time heaved random traits,
 Gathering footsteps in a form.

This time is rowing heavily,

Holding spaces yet to be brimmed;

That time overflowed with fulfillness,

Stealing letters to encrypt reform.

 This time its all empty,
 Veiling lull and hush -
 That time you held music,
 In your quiet thoughts and palms.

This time you stand in seclusion,

Testing me through time;

That time I brought my elipses,

Burying my being in your sigh.

This time my voice rests,
Dying in every word’s birth.
That time you voiced,
What  I now call my mind!

FEVER


Fever,
When my lazy fingers
Sleep beside my thoughts

Fever,
When my barely open eyes
Fail to read more than a word

Fever,
When my curtains stay
Punctuated in a chronological order

Fever,
When my room looks
Dazed by numbness

Fever,
When my broken voice
Speaks to narrate my inertia

Fever, 
When a nauseating pain overflows
Defeating my conscious urge

Fever,
When sleep comes down too often
Slowly building me for tomorrow

To my yesters!

Silences that sneak
Days that have turned bleak
Silences that had word
Moments I can no longer afford
Silences that stormed
Replaced and profundity formed
Silences I craved
Couldn’t keep me enslaved
Silences I saw
Left me in a flaw
Silences that broke
Ruptured in a stroke
Silences those were freed
Ushered a novel breed

Now,
Silences are sounds
Mellowed by the bounds
Silences drain
Where I leave my ropes of refrain
Silences that voice
Pondering to make a choice
Silences are nights
Where I await for fights
Silences jive
Brought me back to life
Silences are sentences
Creating-breaking your defences
Silence is me
Where you set me free
Silences are us
Beyond our earthy hour

On Wandering!

Deceiving the depth of wilderness
From tranquility to mess
Trespassing limitations
Sailing in high sea emotion

Lift my anchor,
Drain me in rain
Set me free
To meet me again
Hold me high
Hear me sigh
Make me quiet

Risking the harbor of seclusion
From soft moon to bright sun
Breaking rules
Wandering empty in Istanbul

Paint a dream
Fill my cup of life to brim
Weave me a poem
Write me a name
Give me mind
Where no one will find
My presence
Hide me in your words
Give me shelter, in your abodes

On heartaches

She saw the snow,

Wild in its flow;

Through the woods,

Wearing coloured hoods;

Where the lantern cracked

When the night ransacked.

She saw the tears,

Through the rears;

Humble and base,

To adieu a phase;

When the wind screeched

When love breached.

She held the lamp,

High and lo’

To show the path,

To bring the flow;

Definite and safe,

For what she crave;

Yet, she felt

In her it dwelt

Oozing and dropping

Slowly eloping

A shimmered jerk,

A sudden wake,

A pain that burnt,

A feeling awake,

A numb emotion,

A small heartache

   Night

They call you dark

I see light

In you, my night

You bring home my love

You are silence, you are quiet

You weave dreams, in your plight

They say you fail

I see my dale

In you, my night

Cast in shade, drained in rain

Fearless you stand,

To reach me again

You bring sleep

To make my ail brief

They call you bore

I see my door

In you, my night

Draped in illustrations, drawing pages

You paint my wish since ages

You hold my hand

To create poetry

In your sand

They call you bare

I see my fair

In you, my night

Snow and shiver

In rains night quivers

I wait for thee

As my eyes can see

Beneath the stars, beyond the sea

I know you’ll come, looking for me.