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2h · 24
#Lockdown Day 3
Deep 2h
29-03-2020  23:49

Seven hundred kilometre away from my home,
Constant depressing news each morning,
I in this desolate city of Delhi speculate for the future sitting here in this room.
I now feel what it meant to be free,
And what it meant for those who were enslaved for a thousand years,
And why they fought ****** wars for freedom.
It was all bestowed on me and now I realize.
Staying home all day by one's own volition
Is not similar to being ordered to stay home.
But why I complain about the necessity.
When Socrates was asked, "What does a man learn in his life?"
He replied, "Complaining, Glaucon."

I don't know when all of this will subside
What and who will be spared to read this, like I used to read
All the ****** wars in history-
WWI and WWII, recessions, depression.
Now I feel the psyche of people after WWII
And why Existential Philosophy evolved from it.

Going out to buy essentials is like walking on a tight rope
only a touch here and there and you will fall in the abyss.
Yesterday, I heard the news, a man locked for two days came
running down the street naked and bit a woman to death.
Will our psyche be affected by it?
What changes these days will breed in us?
The exodus of migrants are walking back to home amid lockdown
and walking not for 20-30km but 200-600km.
The fear not only of dying with the disease but of hunger, malnutrition is looming in the remote villages.

Turn your neck whichever way,
the talks of this disease everywhere.
How did the dark ages fight the plague?
A few weeks ago, reading the plays of Shakespeare,
I read in the introduction
Theatres were closed for two years because of Black death.
How trivial it looked to me reading that from the distance of five hundred years.
But now when I see the theatre, parks, roads, rails, airways, closed in my own world-- I feel the magnitude of loss now.
Have we really progressed?
Will the future generations will read this the same way I did?
Yes, Distance dampens the magnitude.
It's pretty late now, perhaps I should sleep now.
This quote
of Whitman is ringing in my head--

"How all times mischoose the objects of their adulation and re-
ward,
And how the same inexorable price must still be paid for the same
great purchase."

Good Night!
7d · 18
Eternal Return
Deep 7d
'Eternal Return'? Why?
If things will keep recurring why is so much exertion?
Would I share a gleeful laugh and cry a passionate cry
Knowing  the same happiness and sorrows will recur
again and again?
It took years to reach a summit, toiling and crawling,
A slight imbalance, and again we are hurled to the beginning.
Is, Sisyphus, only a mythical figure? If yes,
Then, why I see him in me?

Take a handful of men of bygone days, and contrast with
Our time, drop the embellishments of each century,
And see the patterns that emerge, ask them, what were the new ways
That helped to curb pain, answer;
"Slowly the pain is eased but increased the suffering."
Are pain and suffering different?

When was the last time you loved someone?
Do you remember the days after they were gone? Yes?
Then, why are you in love again?
And most importantly, whom are you in love with?
The person or the suffering they bring?

If Everything recurs 'ad infinitum',
Then can we avert the things already occurred
In past, from occurring again?
Or we have lost the aptitude for resemblances?
Invention demands an offering of natural ability.
Have we gained half of we lost?
What is the tipping point for this offering and trade?

It's good I do not have to worry much,
For me, the world ends the day I die.
Theory of ETERNAL RETURN promoted by Nietzsche that says things will keep recurring again and again.
Jul 2019 · 94
Night
Deep Jul 2019
Empty window remembers the forlorn
eyes that stared the moon with burning passion,

Looking old photographs, he says,
"How do lovers survive apart?"
May 2019 · 342
Always Think of Me...
Deep May 2019
Always, think of me, when the moon looks lone and pale
Nebulously sprinting for empty space —
And you sitting under starry universe
Watching those nocturnal games,
Retrospecting life before which many stooped.
Stop not there for the life is long and trials many,
Tribulations its essence, success sneer without them.

Always, think of me, when the moon is lone and pale
gasping wildly for empty space—
Deep May 2019
Tonight is the night of renunciation,
O weary heart, shed that person
In tears and sobs—
For moon is weary carrying the grief of world
Wane her a little forgetting your woe tonight,

Tonight is the night of renunciation.
O perturbed heart, untie the hinged boat from
anchor and sail away from hopeless dreams—
For stars are burdened with undue hopes of men,
falling and fading from sky, reduce their weight
Bidding farewell to those memories tonight,

Tonight is the night of renunciation.
O innocent heart, love is despot, so end these grieving
for a person’s absence—
For the air is sick and sad sailing house to house
Lower her sadness abating your loss tonight,

Tonight is the night of renunciation.
O withered heart, saunter in the lawns this approaching dawn
Born anew, listen the chatter and flutter of birds,
For the sighs of lovers have turned their song melancholic,
Sing loud, O heart, return their gayness
For they’re not meant to suffer for our melancholy.
May 2019 · 1.4k
Arrival !
Deep May 2019
The 'gyre' hints arrival-
Twenty centuries making room
For a new epoch,
I’m modern bird now,
I may sound haphazard, troublesome and brooding
unimportant topic for hours,
It's up to you to lend ear or not;

I was winged rooster confined to land only,
Now I’ve become 'hawk', with knowledge of flight
perhaps power too,
Seeing the world from far above
Envisioned me a seer sight;
I see the world functioning; the lowliest on top,
the best in daze, and mediocre relishing mediocrity,
One or two good men wasting
life in poetry; Of which none cares.
Oblivious armed men guards the periphery;
At centre white termites gnaws the Door.

At this height, all seems different,
I can’t relate with my earlier self;
My knowledge seems nothing but
a frail sound in vacuum.
When I became 'conscious'-
My dreams stopped being dreams—
My thoughts were invaded daily—
Life evolved in million years—
'God is dead', universe all naked.
We’re the supreme, the Satan both;
Busy in triumphing Nature.
Converging all— blazed my beliefs.

We’ve progressed too much, portends
the trembling of earth
And smoke eclipsing the sun.
'Death I breathe',
War looms again,
Life is traded in forfeited currency.

I see the world functioning,
I know one or two tricks too to cheat,
To assault, to ****, to loot.
I can foresee the end—
Its good to die starving then
To fly in proximity of land.
gyre; comes from WB Yeats,
Hawk; Ted Hughes (Hawk Roosting)
Freud's term - Conscious, Nietzsche's quote 'God is dead'
Mar 2019 · 100
Ellipses
Deep Mar 2019
Ellipses… Ellipses...
Who made you?
You have achieved fame freakishly...
You are easy to put...
And handsome to look…
Supposed to hide
irrelevant details…
Earlier only punctuation mark
you were…
now a substitute of thought…
Mar 2019 · 407
Hold My Hand
Deep Mar 2019
Hold my hand
And let the love play its symphonies
So that one day
If you leave it for some reason
The fragrance of you clings their to
Remind me you held it once;

Embrace me such a way
that our heart make the same rhythm
And the musical beat charm our soul
To unite and become single entity,
You in me; me in you lives;

Kiss me like you have never tasted this
ecstasy,
Let the lips touch lips
And give them ease and liberty to listen
the hidden words behind them;

Let the breath warm breath
And disperse in air
Making the sign and memoir of our
Closeness at this moonlit night;

Smile once looking in my eyes
And invent a new way for forthcoming
Lovers to use it on behalf of oath;

“Love’s mysteries are unknown” poets say,
So collaborate with me
Together we shall follow it till depth
And discover its root and create a new history;

I will not ask a solemn oath
Or dozen promises for life,
I’ve lived life in those moments
We were in each other’s arm;

BUT if love succeeds in parting us
Like it did to other great lovers,
Then this would be the victory
That will authenticate the love we shared
and witnessed;

They say, “everyone has something to yearn
their whole life”
If its true,
If I too have to lose you,
If I too have to yearn for something,
Then why it is not you?
The serenest, soberest and fairest creature on this earth
Why should not I pine for you.
Mar 2019 · 409
Forgive Me!
Deep Mar 2019
I’m not quitting, I will not…
But I’m tired of visiting that market
Holding pages that shows others my worth,
Constantly reminds me my failures
In not inculcating traits of brighter mind;
Them alphabets and numbers mesmerized,
My all happiness, every dream revolved around a wooden bat
Father, always scolded me, saying;
“Time never returns, returns only regret”
My adolescent arrogance refuted it
But now, I know the price.

My life was straight
I meander it with my mistreating,
Of dreaming a dream that I couldn’t afford
Of not confining them in the periphery of countryside,
Letting time to stroll away sitting on a pew
Not making enough efforts to catch in middle,
Father, you were right
How I long to go back in time
And start again from the beginning,
With all the cautions and advice of your’s,
Accepting all that previously refuted;


Those afternoon walk in the heat of June
Shirt soaked in ‘rejections’
Clothing a dead Will that dies daily in Loo,
All absorbed in counting failures
I wait for a bus to come
With an unknown number
That could take me all the way to that ‘wish-factory’ place
I heard in childhood,
But the dust fly and settles in eye
To awake me from delving into another dream;


“Those who take long ladders to reach 98,” mother says
“seldom wins without bitten at 99.”
But my life turned out to be more mazy
Than the game of snake & ladders,
How I abhor to go back home and confront her
Whose trust in Gods diminishing by my defeats,
Whose every prayer is going unheard
I am the victim, she a sufferer;


I remember the days of my college
With immense dreams and a never dying spirit
And an age where everything seems possible
Where every person looks beautiful
An age with profligacy and extravagance
And complete ignorance of world,
Later when I stepped my foot into reality;
The clock’s hands had taken so many rounds
That a fastest run could not chase them.


I’m tired of answering the same question again and again
I’m tired of waking in morning anxious
With the fear of rejection,
That travel from bus to interview place seems infinite
With endless emotions heaving up and down
like a a tree on a windy day,
I’m tired of living a life that I do not control
I know, after one hour from now
I’ll exist no more,
And this is not quitting
I just want to start it all over again…
The poem is dedicated to a guy who attempted suicide because of not getting job- and many more who are daily fighting the battle to earn living.
Feb 2019 · 394
Old Liberty
Deep Feb 2019
O say, love, say,
What can I do to **** it and be free
In my old liberty?
—Keats

I
Snared in time
And wriggling on nightmares
At last I found you,
Zephyr like, you untied that knot,
Slowly wrapped
Me in more intenser charm
Only to push from height;

You acted like stage actor
In soliloquies, captivated
With mellifluous promises,
Like an audience I watched
Stunned with boundless emotions,
And ended up believing you.

II
There was a time when
I saw you as a
Rainy cloud to my drought
stricken heart,
Your promises bloomed hyacinths,
Lilies and wild roses—
Hyacinths painted days,
Lilies lavished new hopes.
And wild roses scent eclipsed past.
I loved you most of my days,
And on other I tried to love you
Yet, I kept it secret in fear
Of loosing you.

III
All for nothing!
Your childlike attention so easily
Faded and abandoned
The toy you played most,
It’s I always there, alone! laying in
the corner of your room,
Waiting forever to be held again
in your *****,
With the same endearment of gone days.
But you, absorbed in others
never gave a glance to me,
left me to perish drawing
an imaginary world
And then hoping to turn it real.
Oct 2018 · 407
Go And Love First!
Deep Oct 2018
Caress me, melt in me
let me see the love in your eyes,
Brimming, ululating passion
radiating in delight.
These lips craving for the touch of mine
Like the falling star
waiting to touch the ground,
But in vain, all our hopes are
Vanishing before our eyes
with the rising sun.

Once again we have to part;
Once again we have to die,
Till night comes
And breathe in us life
again.

Alas! Why this sun, why the morning?
Why this rein fall on innocent lovers?
Who want nothing but to lay in each others arm
today, tomorrow, day after, after that day.
Go and love first!
then only then you’ll fathom
how sharp your rays are that slice
one soul in
two, every dawn.
Still, your rays are not
Half as strong as our love, stays fervid
with every partition.

You, my love, the smile of my life,
Immure these tears inside eyes
Cheeks are mine not them to kiss.
Come in my arms, clasp me so tight,
Canoodle, smooch, implant equal kisses
a clock runs in a day; my sole sustenance.

If I don’t return with the return of twilight
Then let loose tears, with them; me too.
And grant this sun victory over us
But not our love,
We’ll kindle our love
by making dreams our home.
genre tried is aubade or alba
Oct 2018 · 7.1k
My Sovereign!
Deep Oct 2018
O traveller, why lookest thou ahead road,
grave and speculative,
Depriving your eyes such a beatific sight,
See the angelic form standeth behind
the window curtain,
Come, wait, sit beside me, it’s worth waiting,
We both will sing in praise of her
And linger until she uncurtains the curtain.
You say it’s purposeless
Why argue?
Isn’t it the reason our maker gives us eyes?
Isn’t it the purpose of our mind’s evolution
to sing and hail the beauty; at least of her.

You won’t believe my word? Impertinence!
You will be blinded by her shadow
spare her presence; “stare not for long”,
What? You say it exaggeration…
Bon Dieu!
If beauty is not exaggerated
where lies its charm.

Look! her shadow moving, she is
growing impatient as if  getting
late to meet her lover.
Yes, she wins heart in a look
and crushes it in a blink and wins again
by smile.
Monarch sleeps in her bed
Life in right, Death in left hand; she possesses,
Judiciary in closet
And warriors in purse.
Countries bow, world kneel, universe supplicate
before her.
Stop! Where thou going?
Pardon these adynatons,
I’m drunk in her beauty.

Let us sing then, I’ll lead, you follow

Flowers wilting in chilled air,
Waiting clouds to part
To have a look fair,
Of moon…

Do see the restlessness in that room?
I can sense her ***** heaving, repressed
sighs and her fingers twisting, twirling
in exasperation,
It must be a lover
who invented the song, isn’t it?

A gloomy firefly in this starless sky
Searching his lover
Who has lost the light,
Wait not moon, rise, help him
In his plight…

Look! look! The curtain is drawn
There she, my sovereign,
don’t mistake her eyes for stars.
Have a profound look, but not too long;
this witnesses only fortunate.
What? you lost your vision-
But I warned you earlier.
Now, who’ll testify I saw her?
Sep 2018 · 1.8k
Wintery love
Deep Sep 2018
Let me touch you, hold you,
Kiss you in this wintery night
You are the fire
I a piece of ice,
Union of us would be like rivers meeting the
Immortal sea
Where one consumes and other get consumed;

Under the blanket
When the darkness hides us
We feel the warmth of that warm breath
So close to our face that tells the stories of our days, months
And years together inseparable;

You, Me and this cold darkness
And the presence of two heartbeats in rhythm
Has frozen the fear of life and death
With you, I want to live
Without you I choose death;
Aug 2018 · 898
Thousandth Night
Deep Aug 2018
So you are gone, I realized this tonight
At the thousandth night of our separation,
Stars glittering, Moon playing hide & seek
Same like the night you and I talked last,
How I hated change and
How I found it at every step I took, is inexplicable.
The promises were not plenty to stay.
Oaths were mere other words said in frenzy
Washed in the first rain of the season.

All those texts I wrote, stanzas I composed
Were not enough to win you.
I ask you; was I that bad?

I remember me; so different than now
Awake all night waiting for your call
to start talks having no purport,
To listen your gasps, kisses and breathe and yawn
Every moment felt like you were breathing unto me
Traversing miles, splashing on face,
Warm in winters, cool in summer nights,
your breath reached;
Inhaling all, I stored it inside
Like a souvenir; to remind me how close we were once.

You said,
you “are weak in catching the hidden meanings
In my poems”. How ignorant I was to not listen
But if you were around now,
I'd explain those connotative lines
full with request and pleas,
I had typed in midnight emotions
tears gashing;
Only had simple meaning;
I long and yearn to live with you,
around you, beside you
every second.
If I’d known substitutes of hundred diverse
emotions spinning,
I'd have used it
to avoid your confusion.
But I didn’t find. My rotten luck!

Sometimes, I ponder
If you're there to see me awake all night for words
that can match you; your radiant beauty, then all
would have been different.
But you're not there to witness the devotion.

To my ill-fate, words carry only pictures
Reading depends on the reader,
And you read it all different than I intended,
Maybe, it’s the fault of my poetry
broken and stained in failure
Never achieved the power to conquer you forever.

Every word I wrote haunt me onwards
See, the sorrow I'm indulged in,
When you have forgotten my existence,
and the love we shared.
Still, after all these years
I fighting with change
Waken all night
weary, tired, sleepy; Write you in poems!
Aug 2018 · 2.5k
Love Song
Deep Aug 2018
She seals the bag
full of melancholic songs-
The precious weapon in my
poetic arsenal,
And revives in me the desire
To sing a love song;

Should I write it
on her beauty,
Or on the virtues
she doesn’t count,
That her soul is truth a pious seeks,
Or something she is unacquainted
in her till now,

Or on the blushing cheeks,
Or parting lips,
Mystic eyes, or Sufi voice,
Or the nose-pin shining ablaze,
Or simply arrange the words
to summarize her sleeping face,

Should I write—
Stars fall to make her wish complete,
That sunflowers follow the direction
she moves,
That leaves loose bough
to have a close look, of her.
What should I write?
Aug 2018 · 195
Tracing You
Deep Aug 2018
Whose art are thou?
Who is your creator?
'cause I've traced you in every poem and each sculptor,

Were you in Rumi's mind when he wrote, “we are the mirror as well as face in it"

Or In Mir's when he remarked-
"love is the beloved and lover too"
Who art thou?
Where you dwell?

I've seen you in Shakespearean tales
Are you Rosalind or Juliet
Being the centre of the play who dazed audience,
Or one of the long poetry of Milton and Elliott,

Who art thou?
Where thy home?

Are you Beatrice whom Dante
wrote in Divine comedy,
Or Helen, the unparalleled beauty
Or the Monalisa , a dream that Vinci's brush brought on canvass,
Or Kalidasa's mesmerizing Shakuntala

Who art thou ?
Where thy abode ?

Are you a Spenserian sonnet
Or Donne's wit and conceit?
Is it you who shot former "thousand arrows by eyes"
And became latter's "all states and a world ",
Who art thou?

This world is in you
Or you in this world?

You are art
Or art is from you?

Doubts are in hundred

Answer only one-

Any book I read,
The words I write,
All the poems I recite

In all my night’s dream
There's somewhere I find you embedded in them,

It's like all the great poets, artisans had already known you,
And carved you in pages and stones for me.

— The End —