Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 Nov 2014
Ghazal
I went to your apartment yesterday,
You weren't there, but everything still
Felt like home.

As I opened the door, your
Familiar fragrance hugged me tight,
Just as you used to.

My favorite shirt lay crumpled on the bed,
As if you'd left it naughtily there to remind me
How I've ruined it one too many times.

I grabbed it and smelled it deep,
I inhaled the scent of your chest, your shoulders,
Your arms, oh your arms that I love so much.

I lay on your bed with my senses
Buried inside your shirt, inside your beautiful self,
I cried and I laughed at the same time.

Little had changed in your room
Since I'd left.
I wished this room mirrored our lives.

I hoped you'd return early,
And find me curled up inside the blanket
Of those million memories we'd created together,

But you didn't come, and it got dark outside,
And suffocating and unwelcoming,
And lonely inside.

I left, clutching the keys firmly in my palm,
They're all I have now, to spare me of the pain,
That stings me day and night.
 Nov 2014
Ghazal
Whirlwind romances aren't
Meant to be clung on to.
You ride the wave,
And when the peak is through,

You have to deeply inhale,
And no matter how distraught
you may be, jump instantly
With no second thoughts.

But I forgot to open my eyes,
When I did, I was all alone,
The ****** had ebbed and
You, my darling, were long gone,

Leaving me entangled forever
In this dark trough of gloom,
Where time is slow and evil
And the ghost of silence looms.

Whirlwind romances aren't
Meant to be clung on to.
I wish I'd remembered,
And jumped off with you.
 Nov 2014
Ghazal
A soft, pink, closed bud
She lay in my palm,
Her untouched, unexplored,
Sparkling pristine charm
Made me desirous of uncovering
The little secrets her innocent depths held,
Though surely there wouldn't be too many,
She was but a little flowerlet.
So, slowly and gently I
Let my fingers unfold
The sheets of her petals hiding
Her stories untold,
I drove into her likes and dislikes,
Her passions, her fears,
I thought that was all but I
Was guided again, into another layer.
A little darker than before, with
Melancholic tales, guilts and regrets,
Punctuated by naughty quirks and unique mirth,
******* me deeper into her nest,
Her nest so ruffled, how she hid it
Within her kempt exterior,
Each depth bizzarely twisting
Into yet another dazzling sphere.
I lost myself inside of her then,
And continue to be, perennially-
Amazed, astonished, perplexed, dazed
At the extravagant flower she turned out to be.
 Oct 2014
Ishshita Chanda
Bow Bow Bow!!!
Here comes my brother

We met when I was a kid
bt when I grew up
the relation between us has taken another form
from a dog to my brother

As both of us were growing up
both behaviour changed
both were not liked by anyone
but nobody couldn't throw me bcoz
I was born from a human body &
you were treated as a neglected creature with no emotion

And our solitude was never understood by anyone
I could speak, but you couldn't
I speaked about my  ache to you , you listened quietly & you blink your eyes that you understood
But I never understood your pain
Your tears
I didnt knew what you wanted
maybe because I m a human with less capacity of emotion & to think about only oneself

Everyday of my busy schedule,
when I m away from you, at times I forget about you
your loneliness of which I took the responsibility & I failed to fulfil it,
but you never complained & everyday you are lying like a deadbody in a solitaire

Sometimes I understood , but I forgot
Sometimes I played with you, the other moment I m gone
But you are all alone in a single haunting room
Scratching the floor to escape
being aggresive towards others
Bcoz nor I or anybody could see your pain &
we took you as a pet servant to serve us but in return you only wanted our love, a companion and a patner
Your eyes are full of depth, where nobody cares to look into it,
but when I looked into your eyes
I cud see your pain , which made me transform & I became compassionate towards you

And in you I got my brother
Whch I always wanted
You gave me everything, but I couldnt give you anything

And now I am leaving this place,
giving my responsibilty to someone else,
but your eyes said me something which couldn't be put into words,
And I am afraid that I will not be able to  see you again when I am back
But with a teary smile I left the place in a hope to meet you again .....
 Oct 2014
K Balachandran
Her stolen heart was left unannounced at my door step
I know  the last place she would like to look for it, is this.
Yet I kept it warm and safe, with in the flannel of love
still wet with the tears she once shed,  but tattered a lot;
I'll keep it like times before, till she has the presence of mind,  
to retrace the steps to my door step, she could never forget.

This being the usual place to find her discarded heart
many come knocking my door, inquire what is it's state
plain curious they are, more of a usual ritual, familiar
"You do cradle it far too long, isn't it still a child, refusing to grow?"
I pretend ignorance, loyal to her, the heart that was once mine alone,
I'll never let down my split love,sell or barter what is left in that love
only wait for her without rancor till the tired foot fall of hers
echoes after the pale moon has risen, climbed high up in the sky,
hesitantly at last she will come to my door, find, it's again discarded,
as ever I am the only one,  her last resort, though she hates to accept.

Then she weeps leaning on my chest, grief haunts her without fail
far a while, she cries, as she limps back with her brooding heart
I go to sleep, thinking how a love once moved  mountains,
                                               ­                                              had gone waste
 Oct 2014
K Balachandran
In his dreams the Vally in the throes of efflorescence call out
in a language heart alone understands;
from the hanging bridge over Ganga, he views the ice-capped peaks,
Vally's ***** extravagance and the river's turbulence.

The river runs too deep, at times he finds,
the currents treacherously strong,
from the window of his *Ashram, the view is clear.
She bathes naked, alone on a step submerged in water,
eyes feast on her moonlit curves,
the pleasures skin deep, camouflage the existential dilemmas ! he smiles
In memory his Guru speaks:"Eat only those fruits that make one immortal"
Yet another Himalayan journey in search of the fruit tree unknown

It's too late to redefine, life and love when the avalanche thunders above
on his lonesome path, every step uphill is fraught with slippery stones,
one way leads to the top, to bathe in the light of  the star reaching down

Some days end in too long nights, too cold, the sun shows up hesitant,
her body has the warmth that reaches to his icy depths,
a ****** alone could penetrate, but it still wouldn't melt
Himalayan silence, chant of Ganga, the ghost of a ******
that follows him  like a faithful dog, are all these fragments of a dream
or realities stringed together from many different planes?
Ganga---river Ganges       Ashram---monastry
 Oct 2014
Ghazal
The look in your eyes
Sets a soft, mellow
Musical pace that
Our hands follow
And rhythmically
They waltz,
My fingers partnering
With yours,
I shiver when
Your eager fingers
Turn adventurous,
They settle and linger
Over my lips that
Reflexly part,
My heightened breaths
Mirror my heart's
Frantic desirous
Almost climactic state,
Our fever grows delirious,
It won't now abate,
Until and unless
We satiate
And soothe it,
With fire, passionate.
I'd rehearsed this moment
You probably had too,
But as you lean closer,
Everything's impromptu,
You're nearer than
You've ever been,
Overwhelmed I stare at
Your intoxicating sheen,
We grow bolder and
The moment draws nigh,
But just when we're about to
Reach that amorous high,
I suddenly withdraw!
The silence enquires.
I'm sorry! I'm sorry!
But I don't know why!
'I've ruined it,
Like I've always done,
Our beautiful instant,
Our moment has gone!'
I rue to myself,
When you take me aback,
And with renewed vigor
Breathe on my neck,
Then, as your gentle kisses,
To my lips, slowly progress,
I note, when it's Love,
The moment never passes.
 Oct 2014
Ghazal
You probably saw her sometime, but
Didn't spare her more than a second look,
Demure girl, purple kurta-white salwar,
Quite routine, nothing out of the books.

Oh but I saw her, the true her,
Slender hands controlling a sturdy Enfield,
Salwar flapping wildly, freely against the wind.
Must admit, I couldn't stop looking!
And she totally made my day :D
 Oct 2014
Ghazal
My eyes are closed but
I can still appreciate,
Vividly, the shade
You emanate

My painted inamorato,
My radiant Sun,
Fiery, all-enveloping,
Verily, the One.
 Oct 2014
K Balachandran
The shadows get frighteningly long,
he watches in silence like a painter
whose mixed up colors in the palette
are found to be of no use, the pictures
are muddled by inept handling of colors.

once colorful skyline is suddenly
pecked in to pieces by winds,
the belligerent evening birds in discord;
the child playing in the park now gives up
her carefully structured house,
receiving cues from swarms of darkness,
looks at her mother as if she isn't  interested,
anymore, as if feeling the encroaching loneliness.

"Evening is a spoiler of beautiful things"
he jots down on the page of the day in his mind
"it's  enticing beauty is just a masquerade"
a truth he would vouch as a fact of life.

It's time to be back home, the dusk falls
holding mom's finger she goes
back to the lighted space of warmth
that has an assurance of kiss any moment,
on his way she sends a smile, just a stranger
till two days before, as if saying "See you tomorrow"
this little one is a fresh guest of breeze
a pure blessing, sunshine rare in winter.

This rusted garden bench knows him well,
the fragrance of mango blossoms from a land distant
in a season long past still spreads the scent of musk
touches somewhere deep, brings
memories from a land so far,  a land where
evenings were spent under the shades of mango trees
in exhilaration, awaiting the mango fruit season.

A change in the lighting of sky overturns everything.
time administers it's hidden poison drop by drop,
the memories of an evening from afar asks in a feeble voice
"Will the child come to the park to play tomorrow again?"
 Oct 2014
Ghazal
Oh Winter, I welcome you,
Your nippy air, your kindling hues,
And the tint they cast on my moods,
Oh Winter, if only you knew,

The simple pleasures your arrival bears-
The precious sleep that only your lullaby brings,
The sudden love for rich food you excite,
And so many other little 'winter things'-

Things like colourful gloves and socks,
And poor unsheltered, chilled pink nose tip,
And age-old pseudo-smoking out cold breath,
And cherry/strawberry/cocoa balms to coat the lips,

Doodling a beloved's name on a frosted window,
And tugging blanket under toes in bed, snugly,
The evening nap feeling more easing than ever,
Followed by heavenly gulps of warm milky coffee.

Oh Winter, despite, as the time of
Separation and Forlornness being ill-famed,
Each time you visit, you touch my senses
And leave them pleasantly tingling and inflamed.

For summer may be bright, sunny and sky-blue,
But you can be an enticing dark, a passionate maroon,
You mischievous cupid hiding under the garb of cosiness,
Refilling hearts with yearnings anew.

Welcome, dear Season of Romance,
Time to commence the routine all over again,
Of you- enthusing me with deep cold-warm sentiments,
And me- writing poems celebrating this eternal game.
 Oct 2014
Ishshita Chanda
Sit aback for a moment
take a deep breath & relax
forget about everyone & focus on your self
see yourself who you are today?
where do you stand today?
have you achieved what you wanted?
Sit aback and think

Since infancy we are being taught to earn money, but not success
we are taught to be educated, but did we really gained knowledge
we are searching happiness in thing that are monetary
but we are being forget to taught that small things gives us more happiness
Sit aback and think

We all are running,
for a single sheet half tore shaped as in to the rule the world
we have become vagrant before it
we have hecatomb every relation
we all are gushing
because we are unaware that there is no end of our wants
Sit aback and think

We may be millionaire
but are we really successful
are we really happy
are we able to sleep in peace or
our heart is still afraid of something
Sit aback and think

What have we created ourself , to this world
can we be really called educators
we give lectures to other about maturity
but are we really mature
are our action is able to make difference
or
can we  really look into our eyes??

Sit aback and think..
 Oct 2014
K Balachandran
She rides a thoroughbred perfectly like a man does,
that in no way makes her look less than a lass,
how does the horse feel, being in this rough and tumble dance
see the reason for his pride, it's deeper than what one thinks,
she makes him feel loved, he obeys every word of command,
not a mistress and slave, two beings benign, in sync
right then, my heart dictates,"Make this lovely Cavalry woman
your own", as the crowning moment dawns,
I wave to Esther, from among the motley crowd.
Still in gallop her eyes caught my eyes from that far,
what makes her look at me straight, later I would ask,
"Being the first, near the finishing line, the crowd was just a haze,
to my watery eyes, colors seemed blurred, but you stood out
the crowed simply cheered, but you! you were in such an awe."
Is there a male perspective and female perspective for everything?
Then what would be that when two fall in love in such spectacular occasions?One-upmanship is in play here too?Do they understand?
Or is it nature that keeps the puppets on a string?
Next page