The field overflowed with the blood of heroes
yet blood fell cheap on the battleground
still no freedom for those who dared
silence to the soul,who made little sound.

Onward they marched common man and soldiers alike
to stop the tyranny once in for all
their cry for freedom echoed in the winds
one by one,the enemies will fall.

Their pledge to the soil turned into action
sacrifices were made in the heart of motherland
patriot after patriot bathed in blood
as quit India movement began to expand.

Finally,at the stroke of midnight hour
freedom came out loud and strong
the people of India cherished their dreams
as a storm loomed with their hallowed song.

To this day,India remembers her heroes
whose blood has spoken the language of freedom
India stands proud,with her flag flying high
reclaiming her land and her beautiful kingdom.

The battle line is drawn,
My path to freedom is craving
for insane courage, my cost of sacrifice
can be easily traded, for there are thousand
others like me, all vying for the same goal.
So the odds are meaningless to consider,
Yet in this dim premise of survival, hope sustains
With its tenuous grip on my sanity
I will have no regrets if I fail
Failure means nothing
I’ll be happy to return to my old world
The only reason that keeps me going
Is my burning desire to share,
For I have learned so much,
Yes I am precious,
In fact we all are,
But what would the mortal world know?
They take everything for granted,
I could offer them answers,
For I know the language of the wind
And how they make every flower blossom,
And the Sun, his ray has the power
To destroy everything in its wake,
Yet it is gentle, sustaining life,
Making a bold statement of his Love.
I know his love even more for I was his ray,
and oh! The joy I can never stop savoring
how happy I was to spread  light in the world
of darkness, how I watched Nature wake up to my call.



yes, my world is a paradise, but it is not without sorrow
The clouds, do you ever wonder why they roar?
Is it because they proclaim their might?
No, they cry, and they cry hard,
I was once their teardrop,
I fell trying to affect the world
Around me, but it was futile
Such is my irony as a mortal
Even now I am trying to do the same
I f I succeed, I will cry once again
For having to return in to the world
Of hollow birth and death,
And the true meaning of my tears
Will be lost amongst the smiles
Of innocent mortals.

Sands of the beach,warms

to the glory of sunrise,the

red rays play gleefully on

their dunes giving them life,

A new dawn awakes to the

soft roar of the waves,rebellious

yet content.

Along the horizon the morning

fog removes her mystic veil to

reveal a ship,ghostlike,it slowly

approaches the shore,while seagulls

gyrate above in unclear patterns,

and the calm ocean in harmony with

the sky merge into the Oneness of Creation.

Into the valley of unicorns,
with innumerable horns protruding,
a plethora of dazzling white mass roams
the grassland,so pure,so innocent,
the abode of dragons,the red-winged beauty
concentrating their breath on a cave high
above the snow covered mountain,
and beyond it’s fiery veil rises
the freedom of a thousand phoenix
which soar high above the violet sky.
O my beautiful mind,to whom do you
really belong? you surpass all my
narrow visions and bring me to this
paradise,I get lost.
In the ocean of pearls and diamonds
glittering in the sunlight,my torn
and tattered body of Desire submerges-
like a salt-doll,my docile materialistic Self
who came to measure its depth,dissolves,
I cry with joy.
It is then that my Independence breaks
the barriers of a century’s history,
and my Bliss is cursed with the most
horrific beauty.But O my beautiful mind,
how do I sustain you? for I am again awake
in my bed,left only to savor the token of
Freedom that you leave by,I wonder HOW?

I am water
homeless,tireless and
yes,I am always free
and this freedom of mine
defines my identity.
During primal times,
when the Earth was violent
and raw lava flowed madly
across the land,I was born
from the dilapidated womb
of Nature to alleviate the
chaos that prevailed.
I suffered,I suffered a lot,
the pain was acute
and the fiery battleground
mocked at my presence,
but then I realized my essence.
That I can rise,above the pain
above the world,above gods even,
to change my destiny as I like.
For I know, in the end all that
would be left off is me and there
lies my deepest secret.
I can engulf the whole of landmass
if I like,rage titanic waves to obliterate
everything in my way,but to what end?
isn't it true that I can bring smile in the
face of a thirsty pilgrim,wash away the pain
of mortals through their tears,nurture the
flowers so that they can bloom with passion.
isn't it true that I have a rare gift to create
life,and so I create,tirelessly and randomly,
each shape and form unique by itself from
where life thrives.Know that I am the only
one who can offer the natural world a sweet
taste of my immortality.

Do you aspire to create pain?
when tattered memories line your mind
or do you feed on rotten qualms?
the source of which is hard to find.

Remember when times were good
you and I rocked the world
but now a broken voice makes a wild cacophony
a deluge of sorrow and despair unfurled.

Together we created euphoric magic
In every tune, the world did bow
but our love suffered a grave defeat
tears fall cheap and easily now.

Her divine voice,still resonate my heart
her song would touch the heaven
the euphony would change the hardest of heart
who retreated in madness of guilt-driven.

She had a desperate passion for life
but death denied her the freedom
when she departed with a brave smile
she was certain to reach god's kingdom.

Now you and I face the lonely nights
and I cry loudly to defeat my pain
but your silent demeanor is quite haunting
so my tears fall stronger than the rain.

With bloodied hands I make a vow
today i'd play the last tune with you
I ask you to bleed with me
so our song shall reborn clean and new.

Bleed my guitar!bleed all the more
let my broken voice reach her soul
Where in afterlife,she and I would reunite
and the world will know of our parole.

...and slowly the music faded away
as raw blood diluted the tears
hugging his guitar upon his final breath
he closed his eyes for she was near.

From the womb of Creation,
when time was born,I manifest
myself in the dark void.
With unending force I expand,
I expand defying boundaries,
I expand to adorn the void
with a celestial garland,
and I expand to reach beyond
the Infinite.

From dawn to dusk,
I paint the heavens with
acute passion.Countless
distorted images with an
intoxicating shade of orange
greet the mortals during
sunset.With the birth of night,
I reveal another secret, for light
steals the glory of darkness through
the moon,stars and the fireflies.
My faithful acolytes brave the dark
and triumph like a victorious warrior,
proclaiming that they are not just
things of beauty.

Finally a new day awakes with the
soft roar of the waves. I direct the
winds to kiss the flowers and make
them blossom with a vibrant hue.
The moon and the stars bid goodbye
to the young sun and calmly waits
for the coming of another night.

I am that blank canvas,upon which
I paint endlessly,whether it is the clouds
in manifold forms,or the stars that
dot the heavens, it is I who give them
life and it is I who take it away from
them,that is my pain,that is my beauty.
For I am eternal and so are my creations,
I was never born,nor will I die, I gave
birth to life, and unto me will everything
return.

Eternally alive,this pulsating soul
gives birth to infinite life
evolving through a passage of time
to end all the strife.

Let shadows engulf this immortal soul
let love and friendship bite the dust
but nothing can taint this purest soul
and onward life goes with it's trust.

Life can reach its highest state
where mind and matter merge as one
no more obstacles guard the path
nor the deeds of past are left undone.

The beauteous sunset and sunrise
or the million stars that dot the heaven
is but like a blank canvas
if the blessing of life is not given.

The wheel of life rolls on and on
each cycle bearing immeasurable worth
experience gained in a single lifetime
is safely preserved for the next birth.

Each and every life is precious
so live it to the fullest
then let death be your guide to a new journey
hold strong!another adventure awaits.

The clouds tell a different story
Each time they gift the thirsty earth
With a shower or drizzle.
Their broken form,
Doesn’t that evoke broken memories?
Sometimes?
What if they are aware of our pain?
But aren’t happy memories also made?
When we watch the school-boys jump in puddles?
But what if the morning drizzle that made you happy,
came from the cloud who was the sole witness to watch
that small boy put flowers in his father’s grave?

Who are we to render them emotionless?
No, say these things,
Are they trying to show that
How hard it is for us to cry for others?
How easily we take things for granted?
What if their Love has the power to give birth to a Rainbow?
Like ours of a child?
What makes them different then?
The ancient scriptures did speak of a forgotten bond
Where sages looked up at the cloud for unknown signs
What if they understood their language?
But in the end, what if these are just wasted reflections
Of a troubled mind?

It is the hour before the god's awake
universes come together to mix and
blend and adorn this infinite space,
The moon,stars,quasars, galaxies present themselves
in this celestial romp to proudly proclaim their beauty.


The ocean wakes up to the soft roar of the waves,
and slowly life is born from the sacred
womb of Nature,from the subtle breeze
that awakes the flowers in gentle admiration
of the unfolding dawn,
the gulls gyrate over the shore,
and the Sun,peeping from the horizon
rises slowly to start another glorious day.

The morning dew adorns her body
as her charm begin to unfold
a vibrant bloom of intoxicating proportions
makes an impression dare and bold.

dressed in a shade of the majestic ocean
her grace softens the hardest of heart
but her thorns absorb all the pain
when her world's ripped apart.

she captures an artist's mind
when the canvas comes alive with her glory
she 's a faithful acolyte of Nature
In the morning breeze,she writes her story.

From earth's *****, he rises with glory
conqueror of shadows, the young morning sun
through nature's children, he tells his story
the mortals rejoice of what he’d done.

The first laughter comes from the flowers
While birds starts the song of the morn
And Dawn is rendered in full raw power
In his wake, a new day is born.

Upon the hour, when he is no longer young
His freedom slowly changes into pride
His fiery rays mocks the bird’s song
Softness and contentment finally divides.

Then the illusion appears
As everything he touches becomes a shadow
His own creation, thwarts him clear
Like a very treacherous foe.




And by the passing of day
His pride slowly subsides
yet he has a lot to say
But in whom shall he confide?

The answer came out easy
When a calm breeze swept his land
the birds returned home, and the flowers busy
to pray for the next dawn, hand-in hand.

The setting sun had the same innocence
That presented the beautiful dawn
For dusk speaks through his fading presence
With the same language that started the dawn.

The shadows were exalting at his departure
Until they too, felt the call
Broken were their form, and structure
When darkness consumed them all.

Her skin's camouflaged
by bark, or so it seems
but really
a lost purpose
for it is not her doing
in the days of old
it's the whisper of time
to prepare her
for the final dance
reluctantly she gave
her body swirling and bending
twisting and turning
in the airy stage
a perfect Giselle
when finally she stopped
and there she lay still
a perfect camouflage
by earth
only her dismal soul
dissolved in the Northwind.

"The pain will be passing"
the wild winds cried out
to Mother Nature.The hour
calls for contemplation, acute
contemplation. The Sun with
hope in his heart, bode farewell
by gently kissing the horizon.
For he knows,when this veil
of pain shall be lifted,the grace of
heaven will fall upon this earth,and
so pure will be the phenomena that
even the gods would stand still.
So,in spite of the pain,Mother Nature
puts up a gracious smile in the flowers,
the unknown fear of darkness alleviated
by the Moon,whose pure light spreads hope
of the coming miracle,tearing the darkness
the immortal song of the Nightingale pulsate
in every soul,fireflies decorate the glade with
a burning passion for life,above,the stars,splendors
of the spirit, gaze upon Mother Nature to seek and offer
blessing to their loved ones.
It is then when her Pain subsides, and she absorbs all
the joy of the world to proclaim the birth of Night.

If I be your teardrop
I'll never fall
for the fear of losing you.

Deep within myself
Lies a different “me”
Who is untouched
By my nuances
My happiness, my sorrow.
He watches as I make mistakes
And the same mistakes
And the same mistakes again
Mistakes that lead to my happiness
Then sorrow.
But he remains silent
Sometimes he gives
Me subtle hints
A glimpse of a path
Untrodden
But filled with promise
I try to
Walk that path
But it’s difficult
Due to changing needs
That divulges me
From my path
I am trying to walk
That path even now
But God those screamers
Whose voice is so
Tempting to hear
They offer a clear path
Without hindrance
But Alas! After a short
While I found myself
Standing on the edge of a cliff
Compelled to make a decision
Not so with his path
Though I tread slow
Atop rugged terrain
Covered with fog
Always there is certainty
of a blessing nearby
gentle consoling voices
that inspire me
to go ahead
breaking the fog
but the screamers
never go away
And in the end
I am torn
Between paths
Only that
When I am forced
To jump from that cliff
I always find
The ocean
Whose tides
Return me to shore
To start over again
And the glimpse
Of his path
Beckon me once more
I do not know
What lies on the other
Side but still those blessings
and those soft whispers
of solace
Reinforce my hope
To move on.

Red ribbon, white socks
donned school uniform
9'o clock signals escape from study
a quick run into the alleys
then a gust of bus smoke
takes her to school
and then a lonely heart in
acute melancholy eagerly
waits for the day to die.

A thousand broken poems, bites the dust
It was my first love Stefi August

When dusk descended in the towns
this lonely heart dissolved in the wicked crowd
A night awakened by movie songs
and recently mastered slangs flew in the air
Tired of this cheap escapism
this lonely heart wants to buy pain
to inspire his poetry
that time Stefi August
in lover's imagination
try to penetrate his heart.

A thousand broken poems, bites the dust
It was my first love Stefi August

Maths notebook was adorned with pictures
her name, her portrait, page after page
a thousand festivals and morning hymns passes
this heart frantically waits for that golden day
When the night was busy with the hustle of theater
this heart waited for that moment
when in the stillness of night
in open windows
for once, just once if she stands
Stefi was too innocent
she didn't understand
occupied in her own wonder.

A thousand broken poems, bites the dust
It was my first love Stefi August

For her love is a word
full of emptiness
she fails to
understand
its language
it's too preachy
for her likings
For a little girl
whose father
left her when
she is too young
to even shed a tear
when it's her time
to marvel at the flowers
she is forced to
mourn with them
if at all
she knew
their pain
as they watched
her confused face
but she grew
she learned to act
and learned to frown
she paid her dues
Now she's thick
as a bark
bold and bare
but she's
not without love
What was snatched
from her from the very
beginning
is now returned
in the songs of
egrets and  buzzards
only that
A lotus cannot grow
in clean waters
as much she wants to
But when she blooms
people look at her
in amazement
forgetting
what's around
only she knows
what she's been through
But in the end
a lotus she is...

I sometimes feel bewildered by the
Thoughts of a close one
How they sometimes suffer in silence
Even when consolation comes not to
Console but to take the ashes of Humanity
Preserve it in heart for the sake of
Preserving.
I do not ask you to rekindle it
Just preserve it in your heart
So that you don’t forget its essence
There will be times when your
Principles biased by the storms
Of your own fate will be faltering.
I do not want you to change
You are quite perfect for my liking
But love and death cannot be bounded
You’ll never know when you start to
Gaze the stars in lonely nights
Or look at the birds fly away
From your nearby tree
Only to feel the same longing
For someone.

Remember when kites
soared the skies
till twilight time
longer, later
A flimsy string
that brought you power
with it you
charted the heavens
In drooping afternoons
the battle for aerial
supremacy started
skilled hands guided
those beauties
in the air
a little adjustment
and up they go
in the cerulean sky
thousands airborne
a riot of colors
overflowing
in the gracious expanse
swirling and twirling
in the autumn breeze
how they came in
plethora of shapes
and forms, and names
Thrush, sparrows, flowers
dragons, all mixing
and blending in the
celestial canvas
A living collage
framed in the sky
raw innocence dotting
the openness
the laughter, the fights
all written in the wind
as Mother Nature
makes her priceless
memories under the
setting sun.
And come dusk, when
miles of strings get rolled
on a stick, the kite picked up
and protected like an injured
bird, and next day
eager eyes looked at studied
the weather from
school window
to start all over again
How I wished, the kites return
and flood the sky in riotous display
for now they only soar in my dreams.

What if Love was put in a time-machine
And rewinded back to the past?
What change would you like to see in it?
I for one, would eradicate its selfishness
Why love so few, when the whole world
Is in your hands? Isn’t it what the great men said?
I would also get rid of its leftovers
The pain, the sorrow that it leaves behind
Why not move on and love the next person
More dearly? Why linger?
Lastly, I would wipe off its memories
So that it cannot hurt anyone by reminding the past.
What do you say?

Remember when paper planes
glided through the air?
swirling and twirling away
in the autumn breeze.
countless pages of notebook neatly torn
and carefully given shape.
No avionics, no engines
just carefree flight of its own accord.
Oh the joy it was when they were
airborne, in classrooms, corridors,
and playgrounds. The battle for aerial
supremacy ensued as the tiffin bell rang.
The southern winds played with our
prized possessions and lifted them to glory.
diverse designs in all shapes and size adorned
the school atmosphere. Crafted by skilled hands
these beauties tumbled down to the earth
when the crimson Sun sank in the horizon and as
living memories framed in the portrait of time
and come next day, when thousand others
become airborne again under the smiling sun to
greet the wind, another day of adventure and fun
permanently added in our dream-books to offer us
a small token of freedom from our troubled lives.

Without my presence
the nothingness
remains undefined.

For the better part
I would not know rain
or clouds or storm
but it seems you live by them.

I am a simple man
who laughs at flowers
and dance with butterflies.

Clouds are not my thing
I fail to understand
I fail to comprehend
as you see them.

Yes, if you do want to
tell about it,
tell of the pregnant mother
who bears life
with a crying thunder
Then I will talk

Why? why do you take them
literally, take them for granted
and fiddle with their emotions
in the wrong way.

Come out of your prison
and think a little different
you will see, your world
of storms fade away
by the blinding radiance
of the rainbow.

There was a cliff, where we first met.
Below, perpetual waves crashed
At sunset, we watched the fishermen
return in dinghies.

She told me she was here for the moon
when the moon came out, she said
it looked like a rabbit's tummy
with the stars decorated as ears
and legs. I anticipated the pattern
and nodded happily.

We shared our stories under the
starlit night, there was a moment
of closeness in the air. That day,
my life changed forever.

Half-a- century followed...

Today she left me.
Her final breath fell with
a sigh. By her side, there
was numerous pictures of rabbits
she'd been asking me for days
If I could recall anything seeing them.
I was left clueless...

My thoughts have become clairvoyant
I stutter at words
nothing new on the horizon
no difference between shores
only cliched feelings
repeating inside
perhaps if the wind
stirs up a storm
it will bring
the promise of newness
in my barren, monochrome world...

I remember when your little hands
tended my hair, a blonde that I was
I nestled in your lap, watching you
You used to sing me a lullaby
and put me to sleep.
In the morning you changed my clothes
bathed me with tender hands
and decided on my next attire.
Ah! the intricacies of joy
How those days slipped off in
carefree laughter,
private talks
and mindless gossips
life was worth living every moment.

Now I lie in the flawed garden of youth,
a prisoner of time
suffocating under your new found ego
nurtured by your negligence
as mature shades of lipstick
taint those innocent lips.

I wrote a poem in your heart
for a lack of proper expression
I hid my feelings behind a metaphor
you won't understand its true meaning
until you change.

When you change, I will write another poem
revealing the metaphor, which is nothing but
a picture of your childhood.

I name my eyes
after the great war
whose aftermath
promised a change
to those moments
unseeing
by suffering

I name my ears
after the church bells
whose euphony
lets me forget
my past

I name my lips
after that nameless song
whose lyrics
urge me
to speak a little
of what's left unsaid


And I name my heart
after the soundless sea
whose silence
helps me to see
the other side of the shore.

Sounds of waves
Penetrate within
The great ocean
calls my name
in the breeze
the horizon collapses
silence clots
I arise to a storm
Raging madly
in my veins
an urge to renounce
mind, body
dissolves in oneness
My soul awakens
To the scream of
the sky
Then expands
upwards
From bottomless depths
rising
to the call of the unknown
a glorious ascent
that ignores the
laughing, crying struggling
I rise as planets, quasars
galaxies vanish in nothingness
upwards still
Breaking the heavens
like a lost kite
Memory hovers
in stillness
Time evaporates
And there, there
I rest
My being merges
with the ether
and peace
my ultimate home.