Our budgies
Make love
Without issues!

Total parrot care
Cried the signboard
In the narrow sleepy by-lane
I gave it a dreamy stare.

I have been too rare on this road
Coming this way was no need
But when I chanced upon that signboard
My search ended for parrot feed.

Is there anybody there?
I echoed de la mare
Found none at the counter
Not even the shopkeeper!

Dismayed I looked around
If some human semblance could be found
But fell nothing in my gaze
Other than a parrot in a cage!

Turning to leave I was stopped by a voice
Find here sir a variety of choice
Not just parrot feed
Under one roof all that they need.

Who is speaking I asked in awe
There wasn’t a human face I saw
But could tell it with certainty
There were eyes watching me.

Don’t leave sir without the delicious pellet
Once you take it you’ve to come back
Serves well a parrot’s palate
The bird loves this crunchy snack.

It now emerged who was playing the trick
I was hearing parrot speak
None other there not one human folk
The shop was run by parrot talk!

*I scampered out with one long hop
Disappeared the lane the parrot shop
I was tossing on my sweated bed
By this funny dream that rocked my head!

Sometimes it pays to be hurt,
To suffer a broken heart
To be shut out of light
To cry through a long night.
Sometimes it pays to fail,
To suffer the ignominy of defeat
To be left with a broken sail
To make a glorious retreat.
Sometimes it pays to know,
From the endless race you ran,
Though suffering many a blow,
You emerged a stronger man.

It’s good the world is not made to your dream
and people aren’t how you wished them to be
your needs are never satisfied to the brim
your wants keep growing endlessly.

It’s good you don’t get all you love to own
to your eyes all mysteries are not clearly shown
your questions are stuck and queries remain
your joy’s exuberance is diluted by pain.

It’s good uncertainties hinder your way
your lips can’t utter all you want to say
your plans go awry path fills with mess
hurdles keep coming to block your progress.

It’s good you ever feel far the distance
always hope there is a second chance
events don’t take the course you will
you retain a void that you yearn to fulfill.

Seeing the man for nearly twenty years
In his eternal Spring of joblessness*

Man, wife, a son
A one storied house
Market and home
The only places I have seen him tread
And on the roof
Any time of day
He’s there
Staring around
Sky gazing

I envy him
His length and space
Stealing my Saturday dusk
Sunday dawn
Weekday moon

I envy him
For so much time
If I had
Would have spun endless rhyme

But then ceasing remorse
That like him
Much time isn’t mine

I think

Stuffed with so much seen
Heard
Observed
The bard in me
In free time’s delirious wine
Wouldn’t have budged a line!

It's only today
and yesterday seems never was
believed its promise to stay
never thought it was so treacherous!

It's only today
and yesterday seems like a tale
that was blown way
in today's howling gale!

It's only today
and yesterday had never been
just an imagined way
never walked ever unseen!

It's only today
and yesterday was never born
somehow lost its way
in the womb of today's morn!

Lust moves easy mind roams crazy
What you like you want to own
Past turns of years when limbs lazy
Only then find love full grown.

Unripened age when turns new page
Lovelorn young minds be must
It’s only when the seasons age
You find in love true trust.

It’s made that way we have no say
Though love is summer born
It strongly holds till winter stays
Breaks not when trouble torn.

Can’t define how made like this
It takes years to own
The richest wine and the perfect bliss
Of love with time full grown!

it's such a burden to be good
manifold grows your shoulder's load
conscience driving you to what you should
you're a constant walker on a tortuous road!

it's such a burden to be good
you feel a lot of breath on your nape
you can be everything but ever a rude
with people watching your every step!

it's such a burden to be good
you can't relax to ever be mean
can't talk rough or have a bad mood
you have to live up to how good you've been!

it's such a burden to be good
and once you are there there's no way to halt
acting bad is the last thing you ever could
and goodness brings you the worst downfall!

Give the greed a heed
and manifold grows the need!

In the dark
A spark
It’s you.
After the night’s thorn
A sweet morn
It’s you.
Amidst all rust
A little moondust
It’s you.
Me a haggard
Turned a songbird
It’s you.
No fence no defense
It’s you.

I visit that place often
where the road takes a blind turn
walk along all the lost men
in them wildfires burn.

I visit that place often
where the road is a fossil
of past years' left behind pain
that rancours inside still.

I visit that place often
where still stands the ruin
of all the grown men
who once there had been.

I visit that place often
where lie the ashes' urn
sigh the souls of dead men
killed by lovers' spurn.

I visit that place often
for it's where I made a start
to gather first grain of corn
heart's first stardust.

I was not that lucky

Not that lucky

Always.

Till came you

Came you

Filled heart’s space.

I was not that lucky

Not that lucky

Ever before.

Till you walked in

Walked in

Through my door.

I was not that lucky

Not that lucky

In the past.

Till you stepped in

Stepped in

Placed me trust.

I was not that lucky

Not that lucky

Had times arid.

Till you brought rain

Brought rain

Sowed love’s seed.

Gone waste the hour
under the clock tower
faded face forgotten name
promises made never came
the one showered abiding smiles
kept me walking empty miles
with no retrieval no salvaging wreck
but failed promises destined heartbreak
vows made yet not delivered
cast aside in time withered

upon their ruins where now I stand
holding death's icy hand
with no return to the trodden track
ahead the flight of no comeback

*but I would have them not come on my way
would kiss your face live another day!

Do I see flicker of a shine
being left without a choice
when I sing to her the first line
and she has to lend her voice.

Girl I needed to see your face
but you hid it for too long
denied me that one happiness
till I broke into a song.

From you I needed just one line
see once your parted lip
to make you girl all of mine
sink into your eyes deep.

Sing a line girl sing me one
promise I wouldn’t ask more
I would treasure it when you’re gone
hold one line in heart’s core.

Today was the morning like other days
but I cannot focus my mind just strays
the empty bowl stings with dull pain
like her would be none ever again!

I light the gas and look around
for her purr’s faintest sound
seek in air a long known smell
silky caress of a raised up tail!

Two deep blue eyes don’t beg of me
to love for love given freely
morn’s kitchen is only grey
where she haunts from yesterday!

These winter days she craved me close
if I refused lap sighed morose
softly spoke her petal face
I wouldn’t ever love you less!

She hid her away when strength failed her
beyond all eyes to quietly suffer
not let me know on what sunrise
dreaming of me she closed her eyes!

Tempts jackdaws
A raven, because,
Ravenous jackdaws
Crave its gloss.

Should a primitive tribe be civilized?
Are we civilized or savage?

Leave them the aborigines to their home
in peace
their abode in the depth of forest.

But where's their abode?
we cut the jungle and made road
where would their babies be born?
in the smoke of engines blaring of horns
so hard for them to birth
on the dwindling patch of their earth
our Paleolithic ancestors' living fossils
who with iron will
fought bullets with bows and arrows
now falling by the bullies of progress
begging for last living space.

Leave them the way they lived so long
unspoiled with their own education and culture
let them retain their own way of life
and not make them civilized the way we are.

the orb of light is my destiny.

in my dark valley
escape is a blind flight
on the moonless night

when heavy lies the fog on wing
neath misty sky crickets sing
beckons me the halogen

come embrace forget pain.

be afraid not of the one recourse
come what may fly to the source
soak in the fire of the drizzled night
life is precious with death on sight.

caught in wire stuck on fence
dying this night makes only sense
i fall like rains and at last free

the orb of light is my destiny.

flock to the jhil in December
the birds from the snow

merry goers catch them on lens.

some travel that far distance

like peafowls and hens

tasty with salad cucumber

end up on plates

adorned with spice.

some have a fate that's more nice

brought to the market
sold at high price

so they live grow up in age
with the sky ever beyond cage.

a few of us not knowing why

fall in love with jhil bird's eye.

No one goes to the beach anymore.

Through the casuarinas the waves look a long trek
the lovers when from the city take a break
can only hold hands on the sands
wistfully eyeing the sea a mile away
then kissing and making up the day
riding to where the winds take them
spinning yarns along the thickly saline haze
of what could be and will be
downing the present in the crystal pool
placid as the lost yearnings in their hearts.

Brownish grey yellow billed
Babbling beaks joyous filled
With them around silence is gone
Have never seen them coming alone.

To pep up the world sent by heaven
They forage in flock of six seven
Never they break the brotherly band
Hence seven brothers called in my land.

In my surround they sprinkle joys
Prance and dance make cheery noise
When spring comes these feathered guests
In mango tree build chaotic nests.

I love to see their mock war game
Two males fighting for winning dame
I welcome them so long they stay
Give me good times a brighter day.

In the eerie hours half asleep
I heard my name in a soft voice.

It was a wake up call I couldn't resist
The jungle was in dark mist
The night ending but morning was still frail
The call was to tread on the fallen leaves trail.

The trees were shaded dark the sky was pale
Every bush was where the shadows fell
Quiet was the air our heart tautly tense
We tiptoed our best, and it made sense.

Tweet of early birds didn't sound sweet
Danger awaited at all sides to meet
We strained ears for the slightest sound
The jungle a romance on a perilous ground.

On the dry boulded river shapes were deep
Moving in a herd crawling to the steep
We stood frozen on this other side
To let the distance between grow wide.

Years have flown and whenever in the woods
I see my father's figure in jungle brood
He wakes me up and stretches his hand
We fly through the bushes in jungle land.

Be on the side of truth, speak boldly what’s true
Said the father to his son, truth you must value.
One day said the father, son let’s go to a movie
Jurassic Park at the Globe would be fun and groovy.
A little recreation is overdue son, what do you say
No harm will be done, if you are off from school a day.
The lad a little trepid said after a reflecting pause
What dad should I tell the teacher as absence’s cause!
Don’t worry son tell him the truth for from the daily grind
A day’s break of a little boy he wouldn’t surely mind.
So they merrily enjoyed the day, the movie was ****** good
Away from lessons and classroom, found the kid in fabulous mood.
But you know about the good times, it’s in them to always rush
The merry day passed quickly, and the boy was back in class.
What happened yesterday, the teacher’s jaws hardened
The boy had to admit it, with truth he was burdened.
I had gone with my father to watch the Jurassic Park
Was enough for the teacher to show his anger’s spark.
You boy bunked class and now tell it on my face
Get out right now and remain standing till recess.
In the class was another boy without truth placed better
He too like our lad had gone to the Globe theatre
When the teacher turned to him asked him what’s his cause
He said he was down with fever without a moment’s pause.
The truthful boy felt pangs of remorse for saying what was true
From that day he learned the lesson that truth would never do.

On my first day as a tutor (a sad tale for tutors)
Said the boy, sir, your face looks like a horse
Shocked beyond words by the slapping commentary
I said how it matters boy show your book of history!

History, oh no, that’s a subject I abhor
It hasn’t anything that needs a tutor
The kings and queens and years of wars
Got no charm for me all the unending curse!

My hands itched hard to pull out his hair
Just a kid I said and it won’t be fair
I must put up with all the nonsense
Mend him and get my reward for patience!

Don’t talk like that boy bring your English book
How far you’ve progressed let me have a look
English, it’s so easy I can learn by myself
It’s one subject I need no tutor’s help!

It’s time I thought to use my last card of trump
Bring boy your copy of subtractions and sums
Surely you need there someone to guide you
He kept quiet and my hopes soared anew!

Maths, that’s truly something from you I need to learn
If you offer to teach me there’s no way I can spurn
But before we proceed his chuckles he could hardly hide
Do crawl on all fours to be the horse I love to ride!

A thousand bees stung me a million sparks flew
I knew my time was up wasn’t anything more to do
I wished to give his head the hardest hammer’*****
Just a kid I had to swallow made a hasty retreat!

Daylong I bemoan justice denied to me
Till breaking through my nightly peace
They gather around me seeking justice.

In someone’s eyes I sculpted a rain
In someone’s life a desert
In someone’s loss I found my gain
Broke someone’s delicate heart!

On someone’s face etched a dark shadow
A scar in someone’s mind
From someone’s face stole moon’s glow
In the dark left someone behind!

They surround me breaking night’s peace
Each someone I hurt on the way
My wrongs' phantoms come for justice
From the ruins of the gone by day!

I think not to write
any more love poem
her strands of silver hair
face's blossoming striations
and sunset pinks on her earlobes
rekindles a flame
that begets
one more love poem!

Her monstrous tongue
spits fire

before her ire
the demon cowers

his limbs sloth
before her fiery wrath

by her annihilating eyes
no more can he rise.

Returns lull

*when she wears his skull!

When I left home
I left there a piece of my mind
What it keeps saying to me
Robs my peace of mind

Your attention not paid
For her cat clawed cut
Asking her if it still hurts
Should have got her a band-aid

Defocused out of sight
Forgot so much from last night

Never asked once
If by any chance
Her feet’s ache still remains

If she in her morn’s walk
Felt the pain
And she was home before the rains

I think of asking her all these
The questions I left behind
Some more some more

Then in the evening
As she opens the door
I remember some
Forget more

Maybe not even one
I can remember
The pains of her
Inside outside

At night by her side
Promise her
I’ll not be forgetful

See her clawed thumb-head
Plastered with band-aid
Her feet swollen

And she promises
She will not go out in the rain again.

Each clay model was fast asleep
Frozen in slumber deep

But I had a promise to keep.

My doll I promised would have her say
And on this summer day
Her I mustn’t fail.

She had to have a clay model.

There wasn’t a thing wasn’t there
Men, women, birds and even a curd seller

Bald Brahmin, English pair
Village belle in flowing hair

Men flirtatious, women loose
At small price pick and choose.

Lost in the potter’s terrain
She was back a child again
The afternoon was almost spent
When ended her playful moments.

I picked the fortune teller
She chose the curd seller.

On the way what I had to say
Hope she remembers till last day

*At the potter’s having seen them all
Found none crafted like my lovely doll.

A pain gnaws him as he looks out to the falling day.

On this land of dimmer glow and vaster stretch

stings him the thought

separation could be such unimaginably painful!

From the beginning he had dreamed a resemblance
had hoped for it

between this world and his

but his wildly scanning senses
keep bouncing on a dead wall!

He remembers how he missed home
from a few scores of miles

and when younger

even five hundred yards from mom
was enough for tears...

Here he’s away five hundred light years!

The night dawns with the blue moon sphere.

He has to live from now on

*his worst nightmare!

In his heart brimming river’s flow
When he sees it passing below
He on the bridge cries ‘train, train’
Goes back to be a child again!

A child that’s what he loves to stay
Refuses to go the grownups’ way
Being a kid is pleasure immense
Smallest things tickle the sense!

He shuns adults their company
Their faces somber as somber could be
Their lack of laugh frowned eyebrows
Creased countenance stern morose!

He nicely fits in his childlike poise
Claps when glad dances in rejoice
Catches a grasshopper in palm holds rain
Lovingly goes back to be a child again!

coming up another high rise
on the gate they’re planting trees
the maker surely is wealthy and wise
to have stolen the lowly one’s breeze.

one more tower to eat up the sky
on the gate they’re planting trees
soon the goliath will raise its head high
to make rooms for the busy bees.

coming up a high rise gobbling open space
on the gate they’re planting trees
will blow a deadly kiss on the sky’s face
our breaths will be hell of a ****.

how many trees can plant these men
to compensate for the air they decimate
robbing the blue for a handful’s gain
killing the open space with no regret.

Breaking the hush of the summer day
Chee-keeee trills the bird as it waits for prey
Catches one swallows skyward easy
Then for the next gets ready.
You love its intent solemn eyes
The brown neck and the blue shine
Its impassive posture that’s only a disguise
To pounce on the prey and merrily dine.
It perches on the lightest twig
A dreamer and a hunter in one rolled
Scanning the water for a large swig
Big enough for its beak to hold.
Sometimes the wait may be long
You imagine his eyes in sleep droop
Then in a flash proving you wrong
The blue streak would on the catch swoop.
Rain brings it an ecstatic thrill
It loves to be drenched in the showers
To reap the harvest of a daylong meal
Never tired of long hunting hours.
If it ever god forbid so happens
You don’t see anymore this creature
Know streams have dried up there’re no rains
And with them has vanished Kingfisher!

Dust laden and bare,
The wall is growing high,
I’m throwing my kisses in the air,
Where unresponded they lie.
I’m touching my hand on my lip,
The void is growing cold,
They only come in the sleep
As dreams of the worn and old.
I’m dying to get close,
The boat is getting away from the shore,
My breaths are stopping under my nose,
They can’t blend with hers anymore.

I wonder why I withheld it the story was overdue
Summers back I wrote for her from heart ‘I love you’

I see those days of careless time her face still girlish bright
A boy’s heart she took away left him some wakeful nights

Petals blew away with the wind that must have stolen her sight
The girl I knew once playmate she knew how to fly a kite

She frolicked around in a polka dot skirt a prancing butterfly
Babbled in joy clapped in glee as her string spread to the sky

I watched in awe her graceful hands way she pulled the string
Wrote her name many a time about love I knew nothing

A girl so cute so full of life so loving and carefree
I dipped my mind deep in her nothing else it could be

The daring girl I held in stare trapped my eyes like a star
Those afternoons would be cruelly void lifeless without her

Once alone on the wall of attic I inscribed it with my nail
No other way to relieve my mind couldn’t write her a mail

Those three words on the mossy wall for times there they stood
My heart’s outpour carved in bold if only they remained for good

Next afternoon at the rooftop to me she looked anew
My knees went weak I knew alone the mystery of ‘I love you’

None broke the lull as she pointed the wall her face red with rage
Her probing eyes rolled on the faces till they held me in their gaze

‘It cannot be you I’m sure I exclude you from suspicion’
If only she knew the little boy’s mind secrets of his emotion

A few years thence I went back to that house to see if it still was there
Those candid three words from a timid boy laying his child’s heart bare

The house was gone so was the roof in its place stood an apartment new
None would ever know the girl never knew I wrote her from heart ‘I love you’

Cuts the midday heat’s eerie lull
the knife cutter’s call...

from his pedaled wheels
rise dust haze

his own life a walk on ledge

gives your knife the razor edge!

I could come up from the ocean bottom
Climb down from mountainous height
Though I delved yet could never fathom
Your heart's depth I never got it right.
I could come out of the darkest alley
Win the night to reach sunshine
Though I tried yet could never really
Understand your heart's design.
Of myriads mysteries you are made
I seek to find though can't unravel
I must not give up but go ahead
Knowing it isn't a futile travel.

When the dust swirls in the March wind
the forlorn noon is thick with flames of the forest
and the meadow sighs in gold yellow sun

my eyes seek Krishna in that aching void.

She grazed the cows from morn till twilight
and though eldest among the siblings
she was schooled only in the blazing days
learning to pull her herd to greener pasture
venturing into marshes none would dare tread.

Not one groom could be found for her
bypassed she was for her fairer sisters
that went to school grew up were married
and ushered new inmates to the world.

Then a few summers past
when I had almost forgotten her
I saw her forehead smeared with vermilion.

But why she had to come back
playing once again the shepherd girl
gathering them for home at dusk
crooning aaaaaa….oooooo…..

I don’t know if Krishna went back to her husband
for after a few days she wasn’t seen again.

Only the winds howled in the forlorn noon
and the little shepherd girls who came after her
whispered she had at the in-laws
hung herself from a tree.

They cheered it in to the inn
It didn’t understand it was dazed
For nine months it was unused to din
Their celebrations left it amazed.
It was afloat in the coziest darkness
Fed on the fluid of its host
The light now brought tears to its face
And they welcomed it with a toast.
Thoroughly washed the cute little swan
Couldn’t fathom the new begotten space
Yet it sought the warmth of just one
Looked from many for one face!
Its face made her forget the tearing pain
In making way for the blob of her blood
Gushed out from her a joyous fountain
She was carried away in a torrential flood.

Had I not
thought it right
when I left her.

In this room
I find a sad peace..

in company of memories.

*There as I sit awhile
can catch mom's sweet smile
feel her hands in my hair
her tender kiss of unmatched care!

From his place he peers at me
the bohemian man ever carefree
now forever free and left alone
missing my mom missing his son!

With them went large chunks of me
in a void I sunk helplessly
no tears of mine touched the ground
as this heart broke in silent sound!

Blank stretch on wall looks at me
biding time for another memory
in six by four space of laminate
hangs unseen me for son in wait!

Marvelous looks the way
same route though everyday
amid leaves' rustles
and street hustles
walking jogging running
merrily with the nimble steps
skimming on winds
in an imaginary land
soft little fingers
slipping in and out
of the age worn hand.

Ten minutes to ten minutes fro
changes the landscape though
stiff barren dull sad heavy.

The trudge back
along the insipid land
with no hands to hold.

The landscape holds nothing..
it's all in the mind.

When at roadside stands
I see a little mag of poetry
can't help mutter two words

lapis lazuli

Must have brought it a poet like him
lover of letters dealer of dreams
drunk in the elixir of emotion
added a drop more to the spilling ocean!

In the vastness grew in one nook
bearded youth with poetic look
his words tattered on the canvas a rag
bringing this world one little mag!

There wasn't a reader an eye to see
the poet's journal sold for free
he carried them bagful if could find
ears willing a discerning mind!

Then they shrunk the hopes high soared
wings broken the bard was floored
in the desert sands lay dried poetry
dying unprized lapis lazuli!

No question asked nor rose a frown
a wasted poet was the known verdict
he put his pen forever down
till breathed his last a drug addict!

I take the last boat on the Icchhamati River.

the huddled shadows in the gloam
talk of home
a waiting bed
before climbs the moon overhead.

In little comforts voices bask
amid oars sloshing the night
and  I brood in silence
neath the  northern star

how far is home
how far?

Why we delay in saying what matters the most
place it at the bottom of the list
scared it might let loose a fearsome ghost
of what's last but definitely not the least!

We speak this and that leaving it aside
keep the most necessary in the mist
beat about the bush in that bush we hide
not saying what's last but not the least!

Why we speak the most needed at the last
treat it as a monstrous beast
when we have to say it and say it we must
not say first the last but not the least!

What's the point of the deferment to last stage
and not say it at the very outset
keep delaying it and blunt its edge
turn the last but not the least into waste!

The hearse waits at the door
the dead is ready for the funeral's chore

dressed in this last hour
in wreaths of white flower

can't hold back the widow's moan
a journey that's now his own

can't see his son look grown in years
as he follows his father's hearse.