I left my shores in that fateful night,
my heart was torn in to pieces,
and blood rushed out, a red river
still I fought like an battle hardened soldier,

My old boat made of  seasoned wood was broken
in many places, lost my navigational aids
the sky was windy and overcast, the sun avoided my eyes
at dark nights, the lone star that loved you and me
and wanted us to unite, was covered with angry clouds
that wanted me to get lost in high seas
the storm that was brewing didn't daunt me
I set full sail and saw the island in my mind
listened only to your voice within me , firm and clear
you  are my rudder, light house, love song
Love, is the only light that's left for me
will I reach your abode against all odds?

Time limits every single rainbow though
It's sweep binds the horizon end to end,
As the light slowly fads,this illusion dissolves,
And darkness stares the sky on it's starry eyes!

Each rainbow color is derived from the  sedate white!
If white can do this, what wouldn't be possible in colors!
But billowing darkness before long fulfills it's desire.
And the morning blush again will wash all darkness off.
Moving clouds pass  their messages to me aloud.
In cryptic script doodled  in light and rumbling sounds.
A wonderful display on the dark curtain of clouds!

Look at me, I am still here to make you see what
You have never seen before your curious eyes!
Clouds churn darkness and light to find what does emerge,
I do see specks of rainbows frothing in it's cauldron!

Life is a change continuous, like the days of torrential monsoon,
I am with the winds and water, in the chiaroscuro of clouds,
A rainbow with an illusory nearness, allowing you to touch,
As it happens it's gone, becomes one with light and darkness.

Ominous  voices spoke within the haze of smoke,
in the rambunctious spirit of adolescence
one would hardly listen to those rants.

I remember two things, I was a white horse
raring to go to the very end, of the track, where a mountain rose,
its peak hidden in the cloudy whiteness, beyond that lies the cave of  secrets;
the second certain thing, in that dream was my age, just 18, highly precarious,
none can  now say this white horse, would turn dark at the end of the race.
(not, even if one becomes 18, all over again,would be sure)

The girl, wearing a flame red streaming cape, riding on my back
said: "What a night we had"! Yes she did amaze me all through the night,
and look now, I am happily  under her spell, she has the magic word
to make me excel, if by chance failed, I'll be her ****

They'll turn me in to a mare by their spell, and sell in the village fair,
They'll regale themselves with this sweet imagination: if he wins he is our horse for ever,
or else, the money he fetches, would take us forward for a while,
The horse in his delirious fit thinks:" My love, we'll have many more nights
like we had, just you wait".
                                                                              The crowd gets impatient,
they just want the race, see the ******* the horse, pass glamorously before their eyes
see someone's win, or  some one soon should bite the  dust.
**Be ready in your blood thirsty self, to witness oh! heartless crowd,
here, I am treading the blade of the sharp sword, dripping blood from my heart.

They are all drunk, light footed, swank
spunky babes and daring guys once in campus
now yellowing leaves in slanting evening light
their dress, manners and assured pace suggest
"There is no need for any hurry in our lives any more"
all those songs deeply buried quickly surface
after all these years of total separation, can you believe?

They started from where they left, many decades back
memories poured out, collected in pools, happy faces
reflected on that clear surface like before,
and words regained their cadence of those days of yore
meanings deeply buried under the dead leaves of
fallen years surfaced, tickled, they giggled and shared secrets
once more as if still in teens they are
                                                        The last thing one remembers,
before slipping in to stupor is Happiness
a parakeet with colorful wings floating on the air,
lovingly calling each one's pet name in campus then,
magic that went missing from lives, all these years
was brought back by memories, they find what that means
there it was thick in the night air, past , chocking every throat,
a simulacrum of past, white clad ghost embraced them tight.

Vanity she carried with such oomph and style
unlike in other cases, I didn't resent, that feeling
viewing her purely as a piece of art, made a difference,
vanity seemed not merely pardonable, but just right.

At a table set for two,
        in a quiet corner,
they sit across;
       an emotional sun
sets acrimoniously
       behind them.
She goes on munching
     something in silence,
never once lifting her face,
    to make the picture perfect.

He sits there, like dumbstruck
    not a single moment
taking eyes off her pretty face,
    as if, she'd vanish if he does.

Entwined in a
      mutually absorbing deliquescence?
Or each one beyond
     the reach of other's mind?

Over a cup of coffee
    going  too cold, to drink now
an intrusive character
     idling on the table next
staring  alternatively at both
        inanely wonder:
"The beginning or the end?"

So frail she is, aged too,
but what I see every time
is a frozen leaf resisting
falling snow and whistling gale.

The grace she exudes grips
every time she passes me
in the morning or evening
her smile electrifies me without fail

In my bones it echoes, I felt
each smile brings instant delight,
I feel like it spreads in to my being
unlike the hollow smiles thrown at you.

What remains after one is gone
is to be felt much later by others
but to make the hollow deeply felt
in absence, their gifts in mind should persist.

what makes that huge difference,
now I grasp, her heart that has seen
many seasons, of human predicaments
and beaten in resonance.instantaneously
strikes a chord, with all, it's music to ears.

And it's a moment none would easily forget
she reflects the timeless grace humans acquire
through a life lived fully in mindfulness
I am embraced by grace, when her smile is gifted.

What remains when she has gone
is a serene sense of fulfillment, for having met
a luminous being, who without even a word
or touch, could make others feel nice and be better.

Glowworms swarm
on the treetops of the sky
to make ornaments
for the night,
                      they keep me awake
with their brilliance, extraordinary
that makes it possible for me
to hallucinate
that it's heaven.
Cosmic fireworks explode,
crossing the limits of time,
rhythm of a starry song spreads
like a divine fragrance,
transcending light years.
I've been in a cocoon,
long days of grief and pain;
this effulgent night transmits
some good news, for the meditative-
chrysalis I used to be for long.
I fly up on my invisible wings
to experience a life eternal,
to be one with alpha and omega alike.

IN the divine frenzy of that moment,
when they met each other first, as predicted,
she pulled him down over her,for eons together,
on the marble step they just passed each other.
Both froze, trapped in a time wrap,
within a moment as a sculpture in alabaster.

A somnambulist sculpturer,with a wild imagination,
claimed it as his master piece, oblivious of the facts!

The cosmos is only a thought,like a flowing river reaching
to the ocean of eternity, if you would remember.
Every imagination, at a point becomes real, memory,
happenings, gains and loss all look the same as one goes on.
Every one passing the steps up and down, invariably is amazed,
wonder still, who this marble couple are, what story they'd tell.
The circle, is bound to get completed, a million years after,perhaps,
                                                  ­      2
Two butterflies, flying around the sculpture, to see if there is a drop
of nectar anywhere,find it on the lips joined,in a kiss eternal,
as they taste it together, they did remember a day in the life of universe,

A wise silver owl, watching this divine pantomime, flies up,
enlightenment strikes hard;on that zen moment, all fall in place!

In a place that never existed anywhere,
leading a life that never ever happened
sparks of fire of wanton imagination,we are,
that will appear reflected in eternity's mirror
all these dreams are created by our illusory mind.

On a blessed morn, a sunbeam kissed me on my forehead,
and at that immortal second, exchanged with me
the secret of the knitted design of the whole universe,
an orchestra of million pieces, that plays for ever
but how can I express it to another unless that  heart is resonant?

I am one among that tribe spread out, to far corners,
that would rather receive riches in our souls,
your voice like songbird's fly high, the music wakes up the valley,
I desire to touch your voice with my fingers, like I hold you
around your waist, we swirl, wind carries the cloud, tenderly
I yearn to lick the honey oozing from your voice
and wing to a Nirvana high, as the narcotic  dissolves
in my saliva slowly, then spread in my blood, beyond body limits.

You are a swirl of fragrance, a high note, touching the zenith of eternity,
I wanted to be the base note to keep you anchored, in here and now
my ethereal flame will embrace your light, together we'll
take flight, light our path and be limitless.

The cat with radium eyes, drilling into my sub-terrain secrets,
Hedgehopped silently in to my camouflaged enclosure, for a nightcap, it said.
A companion of mysteries, tip-toes in to the wilderness of night
With a gentle "meow' to hunt
                                                how fast you pulled me closer, with your claws drawn out,
Not any coy maiden, your lust, long nailed and wild,
Known you differently before, now it comes out on the open, I love you in your true colors, yes, but..

Your kisses are bloodsucking vampire feasts,
You need to feel the beast all over you, to quench the lust, from the beginning I knew(my secret)
With caterwaul crescendo we celebrated lust, I contributed in  plenty at your request,
When swelled desire, did burst and waves dissipated, we went to a dopomine induced sleep,
Completely transformed, you just look like a lackluster colleague,
Unexpectedly came to visit, for a cuppa and chat  (why do I feel bit let down, difficult to understand)

A wooden cart, drawn by a bullock,
along the busy streets of Bangalore-
took over by throngs of techies,
out on a hunt, after office hours.

A curt mannered matron, the driver
sits chatting non stop in her distinct rural lingo,
on her funky pink cell phone,
about life in general, spiraling prices,
scarcity of water, lack of rain and more.

Luscious grapes in bunches
mostly violet, green and some black,
heaped on the cart, people follow
enticed by the garden fresh crop,
she drives her cart, unfazed, her man now,
has turned to her humble salesman
behind the cart is his place,
he plays the part of  her second fiddle.

No urge to show who is in control,
not him anyway, she is on top
his silence says:"I understand"

The plan was perfectly drawn
      nobody doubted it was flawed,
but every day and night added
     particular effects on the sketch,
each changing season had a whim
     that made a clear impact on it.

Even the most perfectly laid plans
      need to be approved by spirits
the cosmos will incessantly unleash,
      that in no way anyone can control.

The plans would never go wrong, I thought,
    her invocations to the mysterious
forces of universe, alone make it happen,
    in all humility now I realize!

Deeply I cherish, the feminine power,
       that walks with me matching step to step,
  in the true tradition  of brahminical wisdom, I chant:
      "Not for me, but all this sacrificial offering,
for the plants, animals and humans, the whole of universe.
       Each and every speck in this limitless cosmos
is webbed together, for ever and aye,
    Oh!   the consciousness that pervades in all
the connecting stream flowing to the ocean,
      be the lighted lamp, burning within,
dispel once and for all the darkness of ignorance."

This hour of the night feeds me pain; I grieve for her, in vein
a river, when she did flow nearer, I floated on,  one could hope
only for an ablution, she washed away sedimented pain,
then, in a hurry broke away making waters muddied,
making things unclear, she becomes a rush towards other destinations.
A flower of arresting beauty, a scent never forgotten,
one would  be horrified by the thought of plucking her to keep for oneself.
but as one stands watching, she withers, loses color, falls after a while
as a fruit, she entices, eaten by passing avaricious birds
she is reduced to seeds strewn near and far and peeled off skin.

Night sky over Paris, doesn't speak starry love tonight
intimate soul, maker of my spirit's whole,
Paris would love to hold close to it's broad heart,
didn't we elope through the Metro tunnel
of experiences,then I made you wear my coat
to protect you from winter cold, hid you
in the cozy interior of my memory well lit,
where you wait on a hope, unsuspecting
losing all sense of time.Still at Arc de Triomphe ,
I  wait for the train that never comes, I suspect
you are a prisoner, in the urban jungle of La Defense
beyond the lonely whiteness of Grande Arche
time the marauder comes in without knocking,
he must have took you away, none will know when
the tunnel of our experiences, once we knew are bare
I'll be going alone soon in a dark train to nowhere
where are you, where are you, my voice chokes and fail

With my hands around you, I slept,
and drempt we acquired wings,
flew up hovered above the clouds,
followed the white storkes that seek
far away lands that are still warm.
Sky was the world we always eyed
as we wanted to live closer to it
with the wonder remaining undiminished,
we noticed the white clouds turn pink
flew above the extended meadows of clouds,
saw they change colors as time
travels with sun, then moon appears,
making us feel we need to drink
the milk she graciously sheds all over the world.

Now, we went closer to the valley of night
and heard rounds of gun fire unawares,
unmistakable smell of blood followed,
war cries heard aloud, followed by the cry of wounded people.
you were frightened and lamented,
like a dove in distress,"Why did we fly?
could have contented with what we have,
look at the humans, they ****
and feel happy that they could ****
the other person, fantastic!
but why don't they see,
that they shoot themselves, not others.
I hate this though we inhabit a world beautiful.
but who gives his whole being to beauty?
and just love one another, see that we are not separate!"

I woke up with my hands around you,
and found there was distress in your face,
wasn't it yet another bad dream, I wonder,
It's past midnight, but the gunshot, I heard-
still resounds outside,
      I can't sleep any more...

Hold obliquely this bunch of flowers with that smile,
to you my gift, "Exotic", your eyes acknowledge it,
you know how to do it,  so that the selfie we post
would turn many a head, invite likes, though reluctant
needs to be counted as bullets pumped by jealous minds.

Now  listen to this mandatory advice, once more
I shouldn't desist, voicing this in any case.
Don't be generous to me, expecting nothing in return
as I am  your lover, in fact I myself am an exploiter,
who is shameless. isn't it the order of the day?

I am aware, it's bad karma out and out,
yet can't help it, let's be open about it,
now tell me this, how much can I bribe you,
for a grand kiss next, today's last perhaps.

Two fish shaped wet eyes, intently gaze,
while expressing pain, disarmingly implies
a sweetness, specially meant only for him
that too, apt  in that particular context,
when his antennae all are up, receptive.

He wants to kiss, those eyes,
as his eyes catch that special moment, poignant,
wants to taste it and make the sweetness all  his.
That sweetness, a bait, but he isn't aware,
with a deft dab of emotion,makes him melt,
paints her vulnerable, yes, a damsel in distress,
prods him to be chivalrous, the next moment.
How the salty pearls rolling down her cheeks
play naughty games with unsuspecting tender heart,
concealing  the puppet play in which men and women excel.

Ah! that naughty wink,
Could accomplish many things!
Or make one just sink!

Day keeps his tryst with winsome light
under the golden dome of the opulent morn,
still shamelessly eyes the leaving jealous night,
with the glad eye, reserved for a concubine,
to whom at sun down he stealthily returns.
This illicit affair both consorts are aware,
hasn't it sustained both, with him as the buffer!

Morning mist frames her face, the contrast, he couldn't miss
a wild flower  fresh, bathed in dew drops, she becomes fulfillment.
A bee, as usual seeking honey,without being aware what awaits,
sleeps in her  chamber,couched in her love the whole night,
he stole her heart, she whispers, he keeps it as the fragrance
and the pollen smeared all over his being vowing never to remove,
a love it is, in essence different from all that he has hitherto known,
as if in a dream, stealing her heart,  he flies up to the ultramarine sky
all abuzz with love tunes , orchestration of nature, intoxicating,
his heart is full of light love fills, now this bee is even ready to die.

A forest fallen flat
in to the water bed,
of this extended lake
gives him a feeling of surreal
and yes, an immense sense of peace.

he sits there alone, quietly
peering at his cold narcissistic face
now, broken in to pieces by fish
curious to look at his face
by swimming around his reflected one.

After many cold winters
when at last one finds out
that mere reflections all are,
the face thought to be real,
and the reflection on water plane,
on the pool waters of time
that drains little by little,
liberation wings in like
a white dove, the harbinger
of the last good news.

The cuckoo
in the bamboo grove,
swaying from one side to the other
as the bamboo moves in the hands of wind,
on the clod water sheet, sings without sound,
the forest that grunts
like a wounded animal,
observes grave silence
in the other reality plane-
water spreads.
He watches in alert silence
a recluse in parallel realities
           he has awakened.

Your soulful look has volums to tell
brings me joy unlimited, unreasonable
you are that rare flower, I used to dream
even in my waking hours, not knowing
you won't be mine ever.

Still you make me yell, "Life is full of surprises"
and hug the person standing next,
just to transmit the happiness you gifted,
all the while knowing it won't last.

That sparkle in your eyes, tells about a  verve rare,
the zest for life, love for happenstance,
gentle wind and gushing water remands you,
one look at you fills the heart with a new spirit,

I can't stop you, a mountain river you are,
I don't have any questions, we are strangers still,
never will we walk hand in hand, hearts brimming with a song,
you are the girl, someone is waiting for,
how happy am I ! a breeze you were, that  blew my way, for nothing.

Spread your spirit, that inspires all,
wipe the tears, rejoice, you have a heart,
you won'tire, if you are needed there
you as a human being, would never fall.

She was the river
sweeping flow, caressing
the banks of his life
a run down town
inhabitants had deserted
      one by one
citing various reasons,
sounding perfectly legitimate,
gifting him a blue gown of fog,
magical, written loneliness
in pastel colors all over it.
She was the flow
he wanted to immerse himself
bit by bit, on her he wanted
to float as debris, left over
the current that electrified him
with her surge, gave solace
with gifts from the mountain
of her origin and the planes
she visited.

             "Ḧere is a word" she said
on a sad day of his,
when  sun scarcely smiled
which in retrospect he realizes
the day he was redeemed,
elevated to the planes of immortals
words surely are!
He was bathing in her
bubbly waters scented with
mountain herbs, wild orchids and
faecund earth
"Ä word that would have
all answers, spoken in silence
a word, ultimate that tells you
  who you are"
a lark sang that one word,
from the limits of her flight,
a star wrote it with it's light
under moon's watchful eyes,
wind boomed the word's high notes,
stringing it's sonorous lyre
He kept the river's word
as a treasure wrapped by his soul
he still lives in that living word
his true abode.

Shy white cloud
                inches forward,
                                        crescent moon
                                                            ­   is all alone.

The whirlwind dance of your love drunk words,
soft whispers in my frenzied dreams,
a palpitating heart, blurred eye sight,
just a mirage, was it? a mere make believe?

I wandered on the beach, brooding and desolate,
waves didn't dance, in anguish crashed against the shore,
melancholy dusk, whimpered in languid wind's voice,
*I winged back, a lone bird, lost the way to its love...