The sky kept speaking in a dialect of grey,
did stay overcast all through the day,
like a new bride upset about
her nuptials, right after it.
"Could have been with some zest,
I feel drowsy and totally lost"
she repeatedly whispers, it  seemed .

A vast net of haze fell, first on the skyscrapers
standing in a row, pushing, jostling,fighting,
it then descended slyly on to the tree tops
adorned with garlands of flowers
red, cream, or violet on their coiffures.

They looked lost, at this turn
of the story, unexpected.
A helicopter, with tourists
Criss -crossed the sky as if clueless,
perhaps seeing sights in that light
curious, who knows what they look for
in a bad hair day like this?
we could hardly guess!

A stray bird appeared, as if from nowhere
hastily retreated, sensing the prevailing mood.

"We'll just stay put" she said "til the night would
 rework the story board. perhaps with starlight "
She bit ******* my upper arm, as if
to exhibit her aggressive mood just once
I loved it , she deftly made it erogenous.
She is a tigress, forcefully kept in her den
with a purpose, she slyly smiles imagining.

When the wave of oily dark night advances
inundating us, she is a promise, exquisite

Wearing a drab dress, all white,
I see a girl child of about eight
seemingly lost, perhaps left alone to fight
her continuing wars with a callous world,
walking hurriedly all by herself along
a desolate street, that to me seems familiar
yes, it's in the part of the city, once I lived
which always was seen teeming with life
except perhaps in such mystery dreams.

Think of this, don't you in spirit live in many
different places, like hearts of lovers one cherishes
though now one hardly remembers, how
it happened and where it was or how many
different persona constitute, the 'You, you think are You'

Like a somnambulist she walks along  the tree lined street,
I was watching her through a  window set high,
as she passed a young palm laden with coconuts,
and then a strange feeling gripped me and said
"It must be she, standing in this cozy room's warmth
and isn't that I, taking faltering steps along the street,
where she has been never before and don't know
what  awaits her or any other beyond that corner"

Is she a refugee from somewhere, an orphan whom
the world has jettisoned, with nothing to look forward?
An improbable adventurer aged just eight, still
ready to stare a dark, overcast day, on it's face fearless?

I just flew out of the window and was astonished at that feat
and  the speed; who would think I could pull it off?
I flew following her as if fearing for my dear life,
as if she and I have a cryptic connection I forgot,somehow
Where is she?my heart in palpitation,I flow with the wind.

Mighty wind, for all your mysterious intents,
you seems to be many to me , not always so kind,
lover of fecund earth, you caress and kiss her often
brother of water and fire, you take them everywhere,
space and you are hand in hand, you are one and all!

The flowers you kiss, gently scoop the pollen away
put it in other blooms, that for long dreams fruits.
With the trees, women with unkempt matted tresses,
you play pranks,tangle them all together,in a moment.

Up you blow the fine red dust , on the winding hilly path,
conjure up psychedelic patterns, on the air out of misty dust.
You, like a dog rushing in to a flock of sheep, chase clouds
frightened they run helter- skelter, bleating thunderously aloud.

A playful kite, at your assault, shoot upwards like mad,
many in one you are, each different as you sashay forward,
and then, the passion ebbs, spirit dissipates, you seem kind,
satiated and quiet, tip-toeing like an alley cat, seeking a home.
Mighty wind, with a lasting bond with nature's elements
one with fire, water and earth, oh! how you sweep through spaces!

Was with  a salacious witch
      with amazing quick silver tongue,
Confidence personified
   she challenged me to chase her,
If I so wish, not in words.
 Her liquid eyes and gestures,
made me mad with pleasure
by the time we reached the peacock hill.
Peacocks, big  blue eyes painted on feathers,
   each, was in love with her, it seemed.
Danced vying with each other,
 to please her, while she winked at me.
As if to say"They'll **** each other
  to get my glad eye"wouldn't I feel jealous?


Helpless, I did surrender to her spell,
 like others in the line, in my front and back.
When just one touch of her index finger,
  would evoke magic, I'll get
Transformed to a young peacock
 of  exquisite beauty, with blue green plumes
none have ever seen before,to flaunt at
others of the ilk, on seeing it they'd back out.


Such a witch is one of a kind,my mind
    whispers, it's she who assures me this,
On the full moon night, due in a week
    we'll fly to the far away  hill where
She'll be with me helping to build a nest,
turning to a peafowl herself,
She'll lay a dozen eggs,
yes, in  to my ear, she says, this is only later,
h
When, she with index finger will
   gently touche me and proclaim, thus:
"This is the peacock I enticed and  
   with my witchcraft ,bound  for life"

After what seemed  eons
he heard her saying this,
        gently patting his chest
        and wistfully looking
        at his withered rose petal lips
                      "You need to slow down,
                        be incisive, gaze, just not
                              with two physical eyes
                                master your senses, all five
                        if you want to see clearly
                      what truly transpires
                beyond mere words and actions"
         those frenzied moments
of love, despair whatever, intense
he somehow felt part of his, cherished,
                 But did they deliver?
             never did he regret a GURU's absence
                 still hoped in a deeper layer of psyche
                           "He would certainly come..won't
                              decide against showing up"
                      Still he was waiting
                           (looking at the directions wrong)
                             when she was with him,
                                     his lover,finder of path too, for a long while.
                              None had ever seized him like this
                                   and emphatically said such a thing
                                                   Now he could see
                                                     more clearly with focus
                                            as if the blazing sun appears
                                            when the clouds are driven by the winds.
             He heard the words of wisdom
             a woman like her can better discern
                because his light and darkness reflect
                on her screen of love, better,
                                essence-mind- bliss
                              "Sat-chit- Ananda"
                              where cosmic waves
                              make their presence
               At that instance he decides
                 to let go pretenses of every kind
                       he felt expansion of consciousness
                          a feeling words would never learn to express,
                         with stars in attendance he slept
                      cleansed himself in the waters of milky way
              frenetic drum beat of heart
              vanished as if he is no more
body bound, free to fly anywhere.
         wasn't she just predicting that
         the slow dance holding the hand
         that masterfully guides,
           it  begins
                            from this moment.

The world as we know it
doesn't exist, from an evening days ago,
unruly fog with the menacing arrogance
of a killer whale, skimming
in the shallow waters near the shore,
has made the world vanish
without any trace, how long it would last,
no one could hazard a guess, till now!
"Is it the end of the world?"
within closed doors people wonder.
1 But no 'bang' of any kind was heard
did anyone hear any suspicious 'whimper',
the weather women with a broad smile
and reassuring voice  fails to tell us.

In this stormy night of primeval elements,
what exists for us is a continent of fear.
Shiver touching the highest recorded mark
in the Richter scale of fear, staring at a
dark night , bundled in white blanket,
all thing moving and static are kept  frozen.
Blizzard, a drunken madman keeps on
inventing a cuss word different, a minute
hissing it in varying tunes and modulations.

I hear no drone of airplanes flying low
to take the landing approach
in the airport nearby, anymore
everything except the storm and snowfall
has come to a standstill,what the morning
will bring, who could tell?
Every heart will be heavy tonight,
if only 2 Stephen Hawking will lift
his cell phone for a minute,
this is the time to ask in hush hush tone:
"Does such unprecedented signals
points that God would play dice
negating the prophecy Einstein made"

There will be no roses on my grave
I do not want the red to mark where I lay
No people will mourn my life gone away
All the animals will retreat to the cave

People should cry at this untimely death
But no need to make so many trips
Because I just want to part my lips
And speak all the words that I once kept

There will be no fancy funeral
The coffin will shape who I am
I want them to remember who I was when
I didn't believe the race was so futile

So there will be no roses on my grave
Instead lay down lilacs
So every spring my scent will come back
And it will remind only you to be brave

did you know?
did you hear?
what's the go?

chinese whispers,
cost us dear.

at the water cooler,
in the dark,
murmuring inanities
in the park.

gossip, gossip,
word of the day.

such and such's,
significant other
has run away.

1.
Eyes, eager fish, in deep Himalayan blue, splash and swim
the ultramarine sky of the mind, gets color coordinated, in resonance
wind from across the ranges, incessantly chant  guttural "Öm"
gently spreads waves, that on ears, vibrate as music,divine
our feet get liberated from mind's control,  the trek becomes us.
2.
Eyes now, turn swifts, fly to the valley extending to horizon,
teeming with flowers of every hue, profusion of orchids,
rolling white clouds above,create *tantric patterns
of grace, swirls, swoops,scoops, somersaults,the trek goes on.
3.
Melting ice, fits well on the conical brown mountain tops,
a white bodice, perfect cover for her lovely peaks,
angular mounts gleam in the limitless avalanche
of light, an impulse for benediction is palpable.
4.
Simple folks of village, on the way side
in flowing colorful dresses *****, tall poles
festoons of bright colors, joyous prayer flags   flutter in wind
proclaims festive spirit, they vigorously wave.
5.
Now heart overwhelms, sings the paeans of
a sky that changes it's face from blue to white
and sometimes, a hue so bleak, deep gloom,
on red brown earth, sun light prances around.
6.
The grass bed then transforms quick,
mind drinks the dense benediction peace brings
that coils inside the soft blue waves, beating within and out
7.
Himalayan blue has taken us in to it's embrace
bird songs ring along the path of ancient sages,
who went in to the forest abode to contemplate, never returned,
became one with the hum of cosmos, they walk within us.