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.

She fell in to the hands of darkness and wept
the world all of a sudden  ceased to exist,
she hoped, "If only a drop of moonlight
fell on the cheerful courtyard of the time past,
and show me  the happy scenes of yore,
children yelling aloud and playing around,
as if nothing will ever happen to break my peace"

Alone beyond mind, she soared in to a stillness, it was deep,
then light, so soft and fizzy surrounded her
gathered her in hands like her dear mother,
she felt light, pain vanished, didn't know
how much time passed,  felt like all burdens were  lifted.

Light was wisdom timeless, it told her, time has light feet,
from illusion it comes and returns to it's fold
all things good and bad in to fathomlessness dissolve.
"Forget the bleakness of the dark waters my dear,
you are the beaming white lotus, floating eternally above it."

The river, her vigor sublimated, is a thoughtful flow
after the daring dive head on from the pinnacle of the cliff,
madly arrogant roaring rush through the dense woods
in spate during torrential monsoons muddy red,
satiated now, at ease, meditative, inner currents subdued.

These planes are different, the river an uncanny imitation of a pond,
the white swan, she  keeps still, unfazed by the pulls to four sides
falling in love with the enigmatic pink lotus, my witness
that blooms alone, in the marshy shallows, only for her to fall in love.

Amazing is the swan's prowess,she  makes the mighty river
accept her ease, wise tranquil pace and brings to a slow down
little by little, listening to the inner music,which is oh! haunting
the river now comes to trance yogi like, in sync with the
foaming green waves of trees along both the banks,
the whisper of wind to coconut leaves,if you listen
is the mystic mantra, "Ï am that..I am that..I am that"

wisdom isn't alien, don't look for it atop only the mountains
it's in the wind's hands,on the lap of  land and in water's prompt,
what space evokes when one merges seamlessly in nature's divine ,
the song one hears silent within, echoes aloud in nature's chant.

My heart is ruled only by her, the white swan.I realize.

I was a dense forest of untold desire,
Love embraced me as the roaring wild fire
The gleaming embers in your kohl lined eyes lit,
I wouldn't ever think of putting it out my dear
Burning in the sanctifying fire of your love
Chanting aloud the mantras of fire sacrifice:1
Wasn't it bliss itself; a new avatar our love takes hereafter.
The embers are still aglow in this forest's treasure chest.

A weeping willow near the window,
twins by an arrangement,
                                     none planned
shared now by humans and nature,
evokes associations of many dimensions.

The window broods
over the transactions
across its bars
     and when closed
               through transparent glass.

The window invites the vista
of willow inside,
                               it's thankful,
without the window,
willow knows, it has no parallel life,
                inside the  house of dancing light,
                              it's human complexities
                             love and strife, whispers and shouts.
                                            All this go in to the window's account.

At the dead  center of night's eerie stillness
the willow wistfully turns
its attention towards the window closed,
with curtains drawn,
no footsteps, whispers
                    or shouts that terrifies
                           as happened many times before.
Silence, molten silence
nothing else.But why does the willow
still senses an animal presence?

Suddenly a  meaninglessness,
grips the willow near the window;
               it yearns to be away from the humans.

Near the open window
a pale lean woman is seen in panic,
a mean looking man frantically tries to kiss her,
the willow howls in pain,
the wind says hush, hush,
willow weeps without tears.

In another night lit by a pale moon,
a jealous lover looks out of the window
for his lady love,
he thinks hiding behind the bushes;
he doesn't know the truth.
With a shudder the willow finds
her corpse below it,
crumpled like a soiled night dress.

Just pretend, you are that orchid, scenting musk,
never even once touched by the winds that lurk,
here I come, the wind you've waited for long,
**embrace me with every amorous intent, let's dissolve.

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"

Wild rose, aggressive usurper,
relentless conqueror of attention, quarrels
wants to make me jelous,
pretends  she is nothing but poetry distilled,
stops at every table and whispers:
"He is hard prose, the syntax, I can't grasp"
Unmindful of sly looks from various corners,
that in fact suggest, I had good riddance,
I am concerned about the clutter on my desk,
that escaped my notice during the days I was in that chasm

I was deeply in to Dostoevsky,
my cleansing ritual on such occasions: the Russian masters
when she passed my cubicle she spies Chekhov
lying on my table, waiting his turn
"The lady with the lapdog"* she reads aloud, with suspicion
would she ever understand, what Dostoevsky to me,
would have told?

The woodpecker wouldn't reveal,
          the secret kept closer to her chest,
but the telegraphic messages
          meant nothing else I gather it thus:
"Don't you give up midway
           slog, till you are fully satisfied,
that you've reached there
        where, what you are searching is found"

In wooden notes, she proclaimed thus,
          goes on pecking making,
the noise louder and louder,
         it's now more and more clear-
that in standards she'd never compromise,
        never would she lower her esteem
even if her sense of urgency sometimes
              creates some discordant notes
       that she accepts as her fault
and keeps her ears perked up for tone and tenor.

My poor, stupid poodle,
peed on the pedestal
of Cleopatra's needle
on Victoria embankment,
near the Golden Jubilee bridge.
( Oh! I am miserable!
I couldn't stop the debacle)
The poodle's puny misdeed
embarrassed not just me,
but the whole city of Westminster,
as fire alarm rang out loud,
when an overzealous constable
gave a distress signal.
It brought the fire chief himself,
who came rushing to meet
the emergency situation,
thinking the poodle was trying
to put out a fire erupted
on the ancient monument,
once shipped to England,
overcoming great adversities,
from Africa, long back.

Incorrigible was that mistake,
                I took the wrong road and moved on,
couldn't understand where did I reach,
                when  found it was the end of the road,
tried to look up the map,
                found a wrong one, or was it all jumbled?
why  am I made a scapegoat,
                to prove a law Murphy has already proved?


But as I was about to walk away from it all
                                        I saw her radiant smile,
my deepest wish, my desire that pulled the strings,
                                            to take me to the road,
before thought and action was her,
                                          the mind came later, the spirit that
finds it's way on it's own, works beyond laws,
                                          even when choosing
the wrong actions, one is proved right,
                                          may that mystery be ours always.
intriguing forces in action in this world,
                                        are my hope, secret of all the positivity I embrace.

A resounding knock at the door,
a pair, with one killer smile stood
but how could she return it?
they barge in without waiting to be invited
the girl takes back her half of the smile at once,
and becomes the spokesperson
of the man with an intention,
from her strange countenance
one could discern in advance
the shock value of her request.

"As you know we live in great times
that value uncommon attainments more than ever,
we collect and auction them for the rich"

She didn't understand where they want to take her,
never heard the stream of tears would be the best sell
in an auction, though at times she was struck
by the sparkle that rivals the rarest of the real pearls

She stood perplexed in her hurt and pain, ancient
"Can't say how much we are fascinated
by your collection of grief, market is now wide
to accommodate, the variety of stuff in offer
your pain is so intense, it would certainly
create a stir in the heart of most hardened billionaire
we appreciate your persistence as a collector so rare"

She heard in deafening silence, the acidic voice trail off
is she saved or is it a bad dream yet again?

Hear each body cell speaking zen to the next one
result of self oblivious meditation opening-
numerous effulgent channels to sources of light in universe;
the meaning of the epithet, "jewel in the lotus" becomes evident,
body becomes all eyes and ears like that of a martial art expert's  in combat
(remember the chants immortal, the Guru's gift
that roused the coiled serpent  1)
soul, the essence, is liberated from all bonds,
limiting cycles of birth and death
stars on the firmament of inner sky is the brightest ever, rain light
"Aum" the cosmic hum, resounds sonorously  in the core of consciousness
life and death are words without any meaning in this state
liberation could never be expressed in words or by any other means
a never changing quietude dawns,  existence moves to a limitless space-
beyond dream in deep sleep and further to the realm of mysterious.
Existence becomes a reality eternal, beyond the three dimensional space
that state is an experience, now a moment is a millennium ,
gently slips in to cosmic consciousness, that swirls to envelop

"Department of space' a signboard shouts aloud
to my perplexity of that moment, it adds
before mind's eye I see the great enigma personified
and try to reason,"Oh! fathomless vastitude, mostly dark
what need you've this quaint building, that before you
would be a frightened Indian bride at her first night?"
Yes, the puny little "department" is not all space, it implies,
has a purpose limited than how it sounds: grandiose!
one doesn't even has any inkling,
what all these means, but a scribe, I have  a thing
with all these seeming inanities, that's the funny part.

Marveling it's esoteric architecture and mulling over
the concept of bringing the limitless to the minuscule,
just enough for a department of government to deal with,
I wait for bus, a personification of impatience, curse the circumstances,
fear reaching late for my appointment, with an eminent scientist.

Fuming against the haphazard, public transport system in this town,
while appreciating the red brick architecture, acts contrary
and make me a bundle of nerves.
Then she 'happens', that's the word
wasn't I looking for an escape from it all?
Freeze, i did, she, to be precise,  her figure was
nothing less than  a show stopper,one should admit.

Her dress, gladly left nothing to guess, and those dark eyes
from the other end of the bus stop eagerly sought me
as if I am assigned officially to pay all her pending bills!

From all round swarms of humming birds, eager admiring eyes
were chasing her, the moment  was an explosion of chrysanthemums ,
for me,  she and I , two spirited dancers on a stage,
(a scene fashioned in my mind, unfolded there ,it seemed)

Am i not to honor commitment as a responsible journalist?
an appointment was fixed with the nuclear physicist,  
with great difficulty it was done, on the way my car conked,
at the nick of the moment, i am here eagerness and anxiety
combined , fighting many demons at once, give me a break..

Yet here i am, finding time to fall in love, like yet another accident,
how fickle is my mind, I'd make any one submit
in an argument, but this red, ripened lips,are alluring
infest my thoughts, those dark eyes plead for love of course,
makes me feel like running to her, true love  may appear even here.

at that moments of dilemma I was another Buridan's ***
wants to do both but can't do one even;
and precisely then  my cell phone rings,
on the other end the nuclear scientist sounds apologetic,
my heart started to pound in my ears, does she want to cancel
the appointment for the day, postponed to another day?
I didn't listen her words, those eyes were scorching me alive.

Paul Walker
drove past
                                                            ­     *fast

She cooks her dishes with such panache and zest,
as if both are  two new  dishes for me to taste,
her dainty waist, arrested my eyes,
then the mind ******, thunder thighs,
all I want is to stick to her all over like curry paste.

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.

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.

Never, did he sell her dreams,
                     only nudged to make her  see the possibilities together,
                                                  she wouldn't reign in, her crazy horses,
                        went ahead, spun dreams beyond the possible.

I caught the glad eye you gave me by chance,
as I realize I mark the moment with a smile,
you, mirth quotient high,caught my eyes as well,
this, it strikes me is more than mere chance!

It's a warm sunny day I didn't have any plan,
to meet someone like this and fall for her at once.
Life keeps so much unexplained, but we aren't aware
the roots of karma is so long, too tangled to discern.

Swift wind  goes past shaking trees, singing tunes,
ripe fruits get caressed by the wind, some fall too,
fruits of your actions invite you from afar with it's scent,
do your deed and walk on,  fruits will chase you from behind.

I sit and wonder at times, in life what lasts, at the end?
even the fleeting moment effulgent, has  deep  impact,
in a moment of candor you lovingly pat my cheeks,
we forget all else, who we were,  and melt like wax.

Stardust in my bones has music from far away light years,
in your core you still keep a ray of light from long past,
it's effect is a wave in my veins, I feel each  moment,
what lasts is the wave that binds us as one and transcends.

Age, couldn't ever wither her, her flamboyance
baffled and attracted, alternatively, a poetic thunder,
this phenomenal woman engaged life and death alike
so see her at this age, was a wonder, what a presence!
her lips proclaimed through red glow of lipstick, aloud
"Kiss me death, I'll give myself at the last breath"

Why do we hold life close to our chest, seeing her zest
if one asks her, her laughter would answer well to that puzzle,
all this passionate living is for the experience to share,
to surrender, before death that will take her through the dark hole
that connect the eons to the white hole at the other end.
Birth and death, doors to and from a stage, living an intoxicated dance.

They take her coffin, along the street, grief stricken , gone mute
dance, dance her voice instigates in silence, wildly they dance.

Winter, tricky entrapper,
cozy cuddler, night fiddler
nuzzler, tantalizer, whistler
sharp nailed cruel lover
seasonal unfailing seductress,
sprawling on the bed cloth of December,
rolling over a few months either side,
I would never take her for granted.

I see her peep through
the window curtains,
spying at the warm days eyeing me
and waiting for her to climb down the steps;
she is jealous, as she wants to linger
playfully riding on my back.

she seeped in to my blood stream,
like the narcotic effect of grass,
before I  know it happens
little by little to make me
forget my other loves completely
even without my permission.
Her wiliness is stealthily at work,
to monopolize me fully
separating me from others
yes, winter is cleverness clad in white.
Now, I am at her mercy, completely
my fingers, chest and lips strangely
enjoy the cold caresses, she gives each!

I realize, she has taken over-
my body and paints my mind's canvas,
with bubbling hallucinatory white,
she wants others tightly on her leash,
my other loves complain:
"you act just what is her will
you always wear her fragrance,
on you what an influence she wields!"
can I help when winter my darling,
brooks no excuses!

She exposes me before others
I look like a pusillanimous one,
cowering and cringing before her
none, even my true love, has
such absolute control over me
like she exerts, it's a secret
but true that I wriggle to get out,
of this white net she tenderly knitted-
for my comfort, which is,
pleasurable I think, to an extent,
yet difficult to accept at the same time.

Let us part before long, not to make
our relationship much complicated,
I'll wait, till the next season arrives
you are in my list of periodic partners,
I'll be ready with warmth in my heart,
for your eventful visit, that leaves
an impression far too long to ever forget.

I'll be healed by water,
my ruling element,
pouring love of my woman,
drenching me not only
from head to toe,
but also deeply inside my psyche!

A memory of adolescent days emerge,
from the snapshots strewn,
without tags and dates.
Copious rain, coconut palms-
dance like women in trance,
two agile hands,
love me with a frenzy,
that create delight, that has no words.

"You are my child"
she would murmur
in a voice, fuelled by affection
beyond words, distilled love of the first love
and womanly desire that slithers
around my torso,
like a serpent in heat
in search of its mate.

She was a waterfall,
drenching my fiery heart
and steamy *****,
I'll be healed
of my blind desires,
and absolved of my adolescent sins,

Your purifying rights are mysterious,
my first encounter with a woman's forbidden world,
make me rich and profound beyond words,
You drain me in to your
fathomless waters

We are a river,
confluence of two,white and blue Nile
two serpents in heat.

I was in a delirious sleep,
with out time or space consciousness-
I woke up dreaming Cleopatra
with a poisonous serpent on her left breast,
The woman I loved had gone to the
depth of Nile of yesteryears

Like a flower
a thorn too
is a  wish
that has a
point to make,
it stubbornly
sticks out
awaiting it's
chance to *****.

Love those accouterments, my eyes catch, even if hidden,
though I don't particularly pry for them in any one, such ambiguity
helps to see world as a place, cryptic messages get transacted,
some are very open even, though no one seems to notice,
like this women I go out with, a free spirit, not the type
who keeps few secrets stashed away in a dark corner of an attic.

Enormous wings she has, I was fascinated by their lasciviousness
how light she would feel, when she soars up viewing the scene
from above, blessed she is , an envied celestial being
she would be in all other's eyes."Ever fancied flying on
your own wings?"  I ask her, in a tone so matter of fact
not revealing I know her secret, as if  just to know her feeling
as a flier.But her words make me think how strange this world is!
Just imagine this, she was never aware of her wings! How strange?

Pure white, delicate, befitting to her petite figure, soft yet sturdy,
her wings weren't a reality, how can it be, when I myself am a witness
the wings never came to her notice, so they cannot exist, she argued.

Her wings were thin, white, silver petals, that shines during dawn and dusk
at a midnight moment she levitates, we fall deep in a pit of velvety clouds
but by some quirkiness of reality, quantum physics may explain perhaps,
it isn't there, her wings,though for the purpose of mathematical calculations
it is counted as a reality; in my imagination, she makes me fly with her.

Echoes within me still remember your mellifluous voice,
blue waters in the pool of my heart still preserve the reflection of your eyes,
honey melting slowly on my tongue reminds your love,
sweetness was defined to me the way i understood, first  by your presence.

why does the cat still look wistful through the window,
the wind misses its tune thinking it gets your scent again,
heart sacrifices few beats, every time the clock chimes,
time runs out fast for me, yet hope keeps vigil to make up lost time,

I carry within me a moment of our life, a jewel we chiseled
on the verdant hill we stood overlooking the valley, till horizon,
prompted by the musky scent of forest flowers that enveloped us
we kissed, transported to a world above, touched our  star
that golden moment of our love we gifted to each other, the hope remains

The diamond studded dome resplendent
we know as thought, is the abode of God,
the throne he sits is the most powerful
of seats, here he is alert all day and night,
if one invites Him with an awareness what it means,
His presence lights every  nook and corner of
each  thought's origin, path and culmination.
See a mouse and it's nemesis a wild cat
play together in peace like long time mates.

Just the result of a thought changing
it's course, moving like the God of peace.

1
Like the  turning sheets
of a monthly calender,
life has layers after layers.

How would he know that ,
just a callow youth on  sea shore
playing with  smooth pebbles,
that was when he saw her first.

She was the woman who
taught him, whole cities lay merged
within a woman, like wave after wave,
of inhabitants over time, leave their
archaeological markers of periods,
she was a mystery like life itself.
There is no way to decipher.

2
They first met
in the city of light,
Diwali lamps were lit
in all courtyards,
It was an immortal moment
in his  life, he realized,
leading him gently to the light
which evaded him though he assiduously sought,
she parted without a word
Did she belong to someone else?
3
The city of sorrow,
yet again brought them  face to face
Ridden with angst of existence
he stumbled, was about to fall, then
he  could experience her iron will
more than a woman, she stood, like a pillar of strength,
she took his weary head in both hands, pressed to her breast,
pulled out the crown of thorns, their paths
diverged again, inexplicably complex, was their relationship.
4
In the city of guilt,
an unexpected meeting again,
they were surprised. Here, they were on their own.
They  wanted to take their lives in their hands,
in spite of the currents that pulled them to different directions.
But he knew all the while that her self, was divided between
three cities within her.They co-existed, Light.Guilt.Sorrow
will their love survive? Not all loves are intended to live long,
a parrot in his tree of loneliness always whispered.He pretended he didn't hear,
A game of dice, almost was their lives, mysterious forces did bet on their love,
Having traveled through fire and water, she was beyond pleasure and pain,
Kali with a fiery nose stud, female power that overcomes all pain,
she became, that shattered his dreams for them.
He was thankful, to be awakened by her,
the light she lit, burned bright, within.

Now or never.He crossed the river.
Deliverance comes from an inner source,
otherwise all will end as an idiot's tale
signifying nothing.
Her flame lighted his wick, liberated him.
5
Fire spitting dragons one can tame,
but in the duel with demons of life,
it could be a blood letting end,
call it play of chance or what ever
they are the  easy game here
He  packed his backpack and
started to move eastwards,
Westward bound was she, invariably,
her heart had still a song left for him,
the void was filled, the pain was stilled
with anesthetics of mind.
Just for one last time they went to the beach,
watching the sunset was their good bye to each other.
They never met again.

a moment,
                born,
                existed, gone,
                all in an instance.

a lull in the rain,
from distance that hum again;
a narrow passage!

Mind’s calisthenics,
Trigger words’ pyrotechnics;
Ah! Euphoria!

1.Dear cat
eat my rat.

2.Lazy dog,
kiss my cat.

3.***** cat
killed my parrot!

4.Nightingale,
sing in my cage.

5.Pets come,
dance for me.

6.Honey bee,
remove that sting.

7.Weeping willow,
go to hell.

8.Sky lark
just shut up.

9.Flowing stream
aren't you tired?

10.It's frightening;
break that silence.