The rain paints
the trees
with the colour of calm
transforming
the ambiguity
of seasons.
The sky, earth & mankind
realise
they are incomplete
without
the scripted tears
of the sky.

This is about two people

who lived together

and realised that

a fine life together would be  a lie to die.



But convinced each other ‘they will survive’

if they disguise.



Each day they dressed and masked themselves

in disguise, to survive.



The clock ticked and

the unrevealed was revealed

when they lived together, each killed the other.

A slow eating evening
of a supine day,
obfuscating the vaulting dome
of the sky,
inviting the crickets
to take over the night.

We are all miscellaneous
ploughing the fields
of wasteland.
With a private understanding
of life
an incongruous effect,
Suffocating,
whether awake or asleep
in air conditioned rooms.

The landscape of love
lies here
amongst the wildflowers;
under the antiquated trees
who dare to kiss the morning sun
face to face with the sky.

Beleaguered with the wild trails and apple orchards
perfectly silent, profoundly mute
like a blind man’s vision
I ready myself; to brace my end
on this landscape of love !!!

Days dissolve
like islands;
in love.

Kisses grow into trees,

Magical things happen
when its you and me;

and
our happiness – decreed.


- 30 Apr 14

And then Gods turned the page,
the icebergs transformed into oceans;
Tristan oceans into barren land,
the land into fire & smoke
and mankind
metamorphosed into
nothingness !

Leena.

As I sit alone and ponder
over;
a window sill,
a busy street,
a coffee mug,
a ringing phone,
a blowing wind,
a blooming bud,
you almost step in;
like you stepped into my heart;
tiptoed into my life
and then, we both , into each others lives.

At home, the mirrors are,
perhaps, dizzy with your presence.
The television , panting – on running a marathon.

And perhaps; the same flower intoxicates us,
with its fragrance,
on the very evening, when we felt the wind on our faces.

Leena.

You unfolded me;
Freed me -
I can't be folded now.

There is now a painting in life-resembling you

And shall sail me through
The wildest storms.

MUMBAI

The monstrous maddening megalopolis;

Obscure and replusive
yet inviting.

Home to a billion- mirage seekers,
who
withstand,endure &nurse;
their dreams
behind the fringes of misery:
waiting for their turn
lest
chase and collapse
at the door frame of a metaphor !

A   formlessness  scatters  
on  the  night  sky;
that  spreads  its  embrace
over  obscure  spaces,
over  earth,
over  water,
over  air,
behind   a  veil  of  silence.