Monday, June 29, 2009

yet another game...

We sat then to play the game of dice.
You kept some of your sights as coins,
forcing me to keep my sighs in response.
As the dice rolled, the evening too entered into a gambling night.
Your sights moved forward,
I saw my sighs moving backwards
and reaching the state of breathless.
By the time you reached the centre,
I was thrown beyond the peripheries.
You just closed your eyes as you ended the game,
which somehow left me with another magical dice.
I wish I could start the whole game once again,
not from the beginning but from the end.
See, the first rays of dawn are colouring your face.

Saturday, June 27, 2009

A pile of secrets...

‘Am I troubling you too much with my absent-presence?’

‘What if you are?’

‘I wish I am’

‘You are indeed’

‘What are you going to do now?’

‘What am I supposed to do?’

‘It is you who are troubled’

‘But, once you told me that the troubled sea is more fathomable’

‘So?’

‘Let me be troubled’

‘Oh! Leave it’

‘Yes, if you wish’

‘Tell me something, are you attempting to write a gender-neutral stuff?’

‘Why are you asking that?’

‘Then, where have She and He of your narrations gone? Look, what you have written now. It is without She and He, I mean, You and I’

‘Hmm… The She of my poetic sphere has gone away to create her own narrative world’

‘And where is the He?’

‘He too simply followed her to enter that new sphere’

‘Oops! How come He was allowed to enter?’

‘He just needed to throw some stones in a river to make some ripples’

‘Interesting, What is He doing there now?’

‘Looking at the clouds, drenching in the rain and reading her mind just to utter her own words’

‘Do you think He would get some unusual words to weave his poetry from being there?’

‘Yes, He already got A lot…’

Thursday, June 18, 2009

rippled-river

It was indeed a long-steady river.
We were sitting on a rock in its bank.
I was struggling to find out
towards which direction it flows.

At an unexpected moment you threw that stone into the river.

Ignoring that I raised my doubt to you,
‘Do you know to which direction does this river flow?’

You silently picked up another stone from your collection
and threw it again into the river.

‘Can you see the ripples?’

‘Yes’, I said.

‘What will you call this river now?’

‘May be a rippled-river’, I smiled.

You nodded in agreement and said,
‘Exactly!
A rippled-river moves towards all the directions,
towards the sea,
towards the banks
and also towards the origin’

I was still wondering
‘But, does moving mean also to be flowing?’

You picked up the third stone,
‘It’s up to you to decide’ -
and threw it as usual into the river,
just to make those eternal ripples.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

it has been raining...

Another dark night,
The lantern in your hand created the way for us.

There were signs of a distant rain in the air
and we were walking towards it.

I wanted to hold one of your hands,
But you maintained as if they were your unfolded wings,
I was thus deprived of the warmth of being together.

Our sky got some of the early lightning,
By then the rain too had come towards us and it started drizzling.

Awaken from its yearlong drought,
My earth discovered some drenched words for you.
“Too sad that it’s dark now.
We can only feel but can’t see the rain”

I saw you smiling in the dying light of the lantern.

‘Isn’t it enough that we can feel the rain?’ was the reply
I expected from you.

You but had something else to say
“That’s why we are having these lightning dear,
to see the rain majestically”

And that was a great revelation.
Every lightning from then showed the rain in its wholeness,
from the sky to the earth.

The mischievous mind came up with another question
that I directed towards you
“Why do we have these thunders then?”

You never replied me.
The unanswered question of mine,
flew between us till it seemed to get dissolved in your silence.
One of the lightning showed you fiercely looking at me,
followed by a not-so-musical thunder.

We then did not walk much forward.
At some intuitional point you decided to get back
and I followed you as privileged as ever.
On our way back you held one of my hands
and your hand was still warm enough.

The rain became heavier, I was not actually ready -
to get drenched from the core of my heart as it happened.
One could simply wonder the way you answer me every time