Ashish Gupta

Ashish Gupta Nov 2014

Her dream and her fear,
Her smile and her tear,
After the fog of pride does clear,
I realize, are all to me dear.

Ashish Gupta Nov 2014

You're like sunrise to me.
I may not always wake up to greet you,
But if I feel you are not there,
It turns my world upside down.

You're like water to me.
I may not always pick you over free beer,
But whenever my world turns to a desert,
I need to know that you are near.

You're like sleep to me.
I may not always want you when I'm at work,
But when the coffee drip trip is done,
Your absence drives me berserk.

You're like a Picasso to me.
I may not always immediately understand what you say,
But as your convoluted logic rolls in me,
I'm satisfied, I'll get you at the end of the day.

Ashish Gupta Nov 2014

To Miss Jane ZOmbiE

To,
Miss Jane Zoe
666 Selfish way,
Mediocreville

Subject: I'd ask you to go to hell, but then I realized you never left.

Dear Jane Zoe,

You're dead in all the ways that it matters to be alive.
The fruits and flowers aim to give, the virus merely to survive.

If blind selfishness were the world's way,
We would still have only single cells.
But life chose to lose itself for a lonesome misunderstood other:
Starting the multi-cellular diversity we cherish today.

Now, I am not a psychic, so I simply cannot converse with the dead,
So in future, take your parasitic crap to your fellow ZOmbiEs instead.

Yours Sin sear lie,
Mr. Ex Necrophilic

Ashish Gupta Nov 2014

Lost and not Found

I know that someday I will be found
By someone who believes in me,
And not like, the others, who bound
Themselves, to the jacks of mediocrity.

Someone who can dream blindingly clear
In the reflection of the face of persecution
And keep their selfless vision, through a tear
And stir up in their wake a revolution.

In my search I have nearly lost my mind
And all the while I may still have a choice.
But to be one, with one of their kind,
I will have to somehow lose myself twice.

So, for now I can only brave this test
Before my Answer comes around
That I may at last happily rest
And my long lost heart be found.

Ashish Gupta Nov 2014

Sand Castle

I smile to the sound of her voice,
yet grimace to the waves of her choice,
that may wash away this swain.

I miss the sight of her smile,
but hold a fear all the while,
as I try to build my sand castle again.

(c) Ashish Gupta 2014

Ashish Gupta Oct 2014

Gilded Pebble

A spark takes a second
The fire lasts a little more
But a pebble is shaped over ages,
By waves beating upon their shore.

What the tide brings under the Sun,
It takes away under the Moon.
The scent of the roses in Spring
Was lost to the winds too soon.

Of what use now is watering a flower
Which already withered to nightly rains?
Of what good are the pardons you shower
Upon a slave who has died in your chains?

This bridge I was building
Collapsed before the mail van could cross
With this pebble I was gilding
That shall remain to you, an unknown loss.

Ashish Gupta Aug 2014

Partition ... no more!

They may have drawn a dark line
But we can erase it and shine

They may have unleashed discord
But this rift our hearts can ford

Since we sigh upon the same Moon
We can yet harmonize our tune

The adversary may have been clever
But no division bell rings forever

Our broken dreams can still mend
Since, love conquers hate in the end

(c) 2014 Ashish Gupta
Inspired upon reading a poem "Partition" by WH Auden

Unbiased at least he was when he arrived on his mission,
Having never set eyes on this land he was called to partition
Between two peoples fanatically at odds,
With their different diets and incompatible gods.
'Time,' they had briefed him in London, 'is short. It's too late
For mutual reconciliation or rational debate:
The only solution now lies in separation.
The Viceroy thinks, as you will see from his letter,
That the less you are seen in his company the better,
So we've arranged to provide you with other accommodation.
We can give you four judges, two Moslem and two Hindu,
To consult with, but the final decision must rest with you.'

Shut up in a lonely mansion, with police night and day
Patrolling the gardens to keep assassins away,
He got down to work, to the task of settling the fate
Of millions. The maps at his disposal were out of date
And the Census Returns almost certainly incorrect,
But there was no time to check them, no time to inspect
Contested areas. The weather was frightfully hot,
And a bout of dysentery kept him constantly on the trot,
But in seven weeks it was done, the frontiers decided,
A continent for better or worse divided.

The next day he sailed for England, where he quickly forgot
The case, as a good lawyer must. Return he would not,
Afraid, as he told his Club, that he might get shot.

Partition, 1966 by WH Auden.