The beast...

It's with the knack of

an elegant tigress

that your eyes approach me.

With this burning desire

to be a beast again,

I every time

jump off my safety,

just to fall prey to

the unconquerable battle

thereof.

,..

seasons...

Showing the withered flower that day,

she told me

'You should write a poem about it'.

I just nodded.

There were then more springs

and many more autumns

that passed in this meanwhile.

Suddenly by remembering her suggestion,

she queried

'I asked you to write a poem

on that withered flower?'.

I just smiled

'Where is the poem?',

she was serious.

I looked out through the monsoon window.

There were more flowers and many more poems.

'Oh my dear!

They both,

the flower and the poem

are quite drenched at this point.

Shall we get a bigger umbrella

and start picking one by one?'.

She looked at me

with her piercing eyes

as her eyelids resembled

an even bigger umbrella.

It still rains...

,..

You Me Us

knowing me
knowing you
and
knowing us
i would like to say
that
i don't know what you know about me
you don't know what i know about you
and
we don't know whether the phenomenon
called 'us'
even exists...

,..

the first song . . .

i thus wrote the first song for you
filling it with
the burdened silence
of unuttered words
and their endless meanings.
and when you open your sky
to listen to its longing,
the song will discover its tune
and the endless music it possesses.

,..

moon-tree series

The moon is burning
as a lone tree
and the stars are disappearing
as withering leaves.
I am not complaining
that the night
without you
is so long.

,..

seas, shores and boats

At first there was
only one sea.
Then there happened
a pair of seas,
one for you
and one for me.
And then
there were many seas
coming up
on the basis of
everybody's need
just to be followed by
the aimless boats
wandering everywhere
without knowing
whose who
is on which shore?

,..

riverse...

Once we happened to cross an un-moving silent river

that reflected the night sky.

'It is a beautiful river', you said.

'A river? how can you say that? it is still...'

I looked at you with my eyes wide open.

'Yeah! It is still a river',

you smiled and added,

'just that the whole universe is flowing through it'.

,..

naturally . . .

I keep a pile of words

on your sleeping eyes,

which then start playing

with your rhythmic breathe.

When you wake up,

trap them with your smile

and put them on your

yet-to-finish breakfast table.

Let the morning sun

savour some meanings.

,..

-------------------------------------------------------

Once, by listening to the wind,

you said that I'm also with it.

And when asked

how did you know about it,

you just started telling about

your journeys on the wind in return.

Not sure if the wind did smile at that.

,..

Feathering Away . . .

A forest to get lost

A sky to wander around

A river to get drenched and revive.

The feathers

that are spread in between

your smile and your silence

are innumerable.

And by gathering them,

I now try to make

a pair of wings

a boat

and a compass.

,..

moon-tree . . .

clear sky of
the rain-stopped-night.
the tree in front
hides the moon
that has just come out
of the clouds.

looking at the moon
through the leaves
you are asking,
'is the moon grown
in the tree?'.

as i smile at you in silence
you take my hand in yours
to say
'no, the tree has grown in the moon'.

you too start smiling
with that revelation
as my space gets
filled with
the moon-tree.

,..

the zhun song...

You are a beautiful song
that lies within.
And I am
the journey of music
that tries
to bring you out.

,..

moontoxicating . . .

We both were counting the stars
of the moonless sky.
When the moon appeared,
we plucked all
the counted stars
and then planted them
in our garden,
just to intoxicate
the moon
with the fragrance
of blooming stars.

,..

ichhe daana . . .

The wings of wishes
that flew from your
night's sky,
reached the branch
of my early morning
to tell the stories
of wishes
that are fulfilled
yet not.

,..

mm..

As we were talking
about the sounds
of the night after the rain,
you saw the rising moon
and I saw your seeing it.
Let it now rain a little
in the moon too.

,..

coloured...

You plucked and ate the sun
that was grown
on your way out
from the forest.
The green filled way 
gradually faded
to become the known darkness.
And then the colours
of you and me
entered each other
to create another evening...

,..

who knows?

What shall we call
the sea
that came out
of its sphere
and is wandering
in search of the river?

,..

'sea'ing...

And when we finally met
at the sea
there were those
endless waves
and 
a deep calmness too...

,..

foresting...

a forest that waits
a path that flows inside it
a journey that becomes omnipresent
here i am
there you are
and in between us,
the language...

,..

present continuos...

the decent forest
started growing into
a wild one
as you
looked upon...

,..

paired . . .

As I was telling you
about the mirror
that reflects a mirror,
a star appeared
reflecting the smile
that filled your lips.
Then you gave me the job
of counting
all the stars that appear
reflecting the first star.
I have seen
no dawn
after that.

,..