if you were not there
am unable to hate and sink in love
congeal before loving
my rainbow like existence is gifted only by you
you only create the space for pride and pain
how much throe -- how many times ,
may be experiencing like the drop of rain
o solitude !!!
setting at ease in between violet and red,, how?
blending the dawn and dusk ..how ?
if were not there---
traveling deep into me and spreading like veins
sprout the foliage of hopes
which thorn is piercing .. as which flower is plucked
the red fragrance oozing on finger tips
a new prophet holding the new torch
the scent deserting the flower
you.. only you --you will preserve
the fragrance as abstract fossil in the layers of soul
if you were not there
who will give the colourful wings to the sleep of pupa?
o solitude !!

what is now ?
unknown depth of the sea
your unfathomable silence
---- and this tear-drop

foam along the shore
the secret signature ----
the waves of hair on your fore-head
sad song quivers on my lips

nothing but waiting like lonely war
the wounds are sweeter than the cure

why these wounds of hope
on the chest of sand-bank?
and why this cure of mystic smile
on the sharp edge of sea-breeze?

what is now ?
unknown depth of the sea
your unfathomable silence
---- and this tear-drop----
dialogue between wound and cure!

thirst, in each atom of the river
cloud, melting its heart
one ripple and one experience
the flow is the fascination

"what will be achieved?"
the torment questions.
"the balm of rose fragrance
and the sweet scratches of thorns"
is the answer of this penance.

"how far is the deliverance?"
"there, where you become i".

"what you offer?"
"my soul filled with your images."

----------------------------------------------
ADVAITA*a Vedantic doctrine that identifies the individual self with the omnipotent, omniscient and omnipresent. --( loving-- is it not the process of loosing the identity for a better world ?)

nothing is so sad
rather than coming across
an eye that is not an oasis in your desert
nothing can be a mishap
rather than meeting a dried heart ----

my body, the heap of sand
becomes the shore, the soul,
when your finger tips of tides
creep on my spine
the fragrance of anesthesia crawls like crab
the aesthetic flame circles like sea-gull
on the shore
the dawn and dusk compete to copulate
with their own fate
gifted are the shells
the sweet memories of the garland
the secrets of our love
that simple open secret of happiness

nothing is so sad
rather than coming across
an eye that is not an oasis in your desert
nothing can be a mishap
rather than meeting a dried heart ----

Night, one of the babbling of "aakaasganga*
sleep, the spine of sands awaits ever
dream, the wish of the ancient river
the voyage pulls, like the freaky star-dust
the dream knows everything, and,
so much is known to the flow

only after the ship-wreck
the self-critic awakes
"why this much ardent desires stuffed?"

for sailing, surely, the load is not "the need"

get drowned once
get wounded once
it is realized how to be valor
how to defeat the humility

a little soft drop, the seed in the fruit of soul,
a tiny sweet brook spreads
like the flow of human emotions in veins
gifting you the feel of the first navigator

that eternal smile of "aakaasganga"
that is poetry
that only is the art !

*aakaasganga=== the river of heavens , milky-wave.

AS THE TUNE OF TWO FEELINGS IN A DUET
WE DREAMT ALIKE
THE DREAM WAS
THE PAPER THAT CARRIED THE HANDWRITING OF THE FIRST RHYME
THE RHYME THAT BECAME THE COLOURFUL KITE
THE KITE THAT TAUGHT DANCE TO THE BREEZE
THE TWO OF US DREAMT ALIKE.....
THE COHESIVE LINK BETWEEN
THE WORD AND THE LINE
THE THREAD AND THE BOND
THE PATH AND THE JOURNEY
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
TWO OF US ARE DREAMING
DREAM IS A DUEL WITH NO RULES IN BETWEEN MIND AND HEART
TWO ARE DREAMING
ONE IS DREAMING AS THE SKY-LARK FLYING ON PUFFY CLOUDS
THE ANOTHER IS AS THE CAGED MEMORY
DREAM IS THE DUEL
NO ONE WINS AND NO ONE LOOSES
* * * * * * * * * *
WHAT FOR IS THIS ARENA OF NIGHT?
IF THE PUNCH OF DREAM IS NOT TASTED?

the synonym of pain is PAIN only

your breath
like the spider
crept on my chest
the imperishable desire built
the omnipotent web deep in soul
to make my emotion as
the wing of helpless insect.

if a nest is knocked down
many can be built
if one night is set
many a blooming night
will be on the branch of time
but --- the dream
that cannot be conceived and
rattling in the net of sleepless night
sure, is a prattle on the lips of a cynic !!!

to dream
nothing is needed
except the burning desire
and the rage of tides in rib-cage ---- but,
when the thorn of night
goes on pricking the heart of sleep--
when the tears of dew
rolling down the cheeks of confused sky--

the synonym of pain is the PAIN only

when eyes are floating in darkness
like two innocent paper-boats
meaning of everything seems absurd-- and
pain appears to be the the only compass !!!!

if the cloud
exits from the stage absurdly leaving the confusion--?
if the seed
shrivels in the green-room like a meaningless season--?

if no celebration of germination? it is painful -- so, painful

if -- existence of no dialogues, no emotions, no encounters
no colour scheme, no tantalizing episodes, no appeasing music?
the sky and the soil as the actor and spectator
if no purification of souls after annihilating each other--?

if no event of rejuvenation? it is painful -- so, painful

the stage of disdain -- only the disdain
that is the tragedy -- that is the sin !!!

you and i
like the eye and eye-lid
if not brawling and embracing
how the world be a scenic charm ?

you and i
like the cloud and seed
if not flowing like the rivulets in veins
if not raging like the life in grains
how could you and i
split into million future dreams ?

you and i
be the rain of some memories
be the offering of some poems
before planting our mortal frames...

if not----
that is the tragedy .. that is the only tragedy
if you and i cannot offer ourselves to germination----
that is the tragedy ... that is the sin...... !!!

night
how it blooms ?
neither you nor i know !

minutes melt
leaves leave
kites disappear
where are they murmuring?
neither you nor i know !

the tipsy alluring breeze
hanged a memory
in the soul of yours and mine.
why it stumbles in our respiration?
neither you nor i know !

love as lust,
experience as emotion,
the soft womb of rain-drop
sculptured as glow in pearl,
what flows in between poles?
neither you nor i know !

night
how it blooms ?
neither you nor i know !

only known is that
frolicking
in the rain of stardust !
rest is illusion !

feeling sultry,
the air encircles the fan palm trees

afflicted stray cloud,
stipples in vain on banal sky

the presence beside the window,
hangs between sleeping and awakening

the soul starts to chat
with your images on window glass

the lithe summer night journey,
embraces the creaks of mind

the thirsty sleep,
drinks the dreams heartily

the grieved ship,
itself becomes the consoling sea

this summer night-
this journey-
the first inclination
towards each other-
these senses recall you

as i tie my heart-beat to your anklet
as i accomplish the wings to meditating caterpillar
as i trim the curves of rainbow in water-drop
as i gift the freedom to the breeze

you become my word
you become my journey
you become my love
you become the wait at my destination!

the lithe summer night journey,
embraces the creaks of mind
negotiates with the memories of bodies
it is an attractive incomplete devout journey !

Are you ?
a monotony of the calling bell to dissolve like any other sound?
No --- never--
you came
like the blossom of lily and brought in the silent serene scent,
like the ever desired guest to add purity to each corner of my abode

Are you ?
the round mark of the bottom of the cup on marble top to wipe out?
No --- never--
you embossed
the sweet chirping of birds along with the shades of seasons,
nodding in vase, to tickle the dreams of my drawing room.

Are you ?
the bed that soaked with the longing of our curves
ever it be dried not to trace the spirit of glimpses?
No --- never--
you taught
the tranquility of coition of souls
pollination of mind and heart in the flower of body ----

Are you ?
the fare-well marks of feet on the dew to vanish in time?
No --- never--
you are
the navigator, rowing upon the tide towards the east ---

you are
not a simple land-mine to blast in the quietness of grave --
you are
the red signature of every encounter on the tender green forest--
you are
the red-sun on my fore-head of future
the native tribal song on my lips
you are my companion.. my guide..
you are the call of the dawn..

I am the anxiety searching for your news every second.
I am the fear not willing to hear about any martyrdom !!!
And I love you as I love myself, awaiting the serene scent ...

the moments stretched
from no-where to no-where
the never ending river of night
on this bank, gathering
my incomplete fluttering dream
orphan seeking a little space
in the boat of sleep
*manasi,
the morning star is fluttering
like the mischievous destiny.
let not ----
the dream like a broken tune
and the strings of tides like a frozen fate.
manasi, oh! manasi !
do not be a mirage of ecstasy!
let the dream not be a dream
let the desire be not a desire
let this journey not be an exile
time is melting, no, it is an illusion!
in fact----------------------i am melting !
--------- from no-where to no-where!
----------------------------------------------------
MANASI --- THE PERSONIFICATION OF HEART

each bough as a lute
dropping the notes of ripen leaves
the tunes flying on the canvas of earth
with the frenzied dance of wind brush

as the pride of passion
on every stump the lyrics sprouting
it is the symphony of seasons
it is the renewal of age old ballad

it is the chorus that of the labour pains of every soul
it is the echo that of the blooming new world

every thought flutter like butter-fly
carry the pollen of future seed
pollination is the meditation of every hue
it is the copulation of fare-well and wel-come

the autumn's shadows of trees
the spring's streams on the cheek of pregnant
it is the melodious cry of fairies

if not remembered --the past symphonic tragedy
it cannot be summoned --the future ballad of comedy!

THOUSANDS OF RIPPLES
CARRY THE AFFLICTION
TRY TO BIND TO THE BANKS, BUT,
THE STREAM FLOWS ON AND ON--

THOUSANDS OF BEAMS
CARRY THE LONGING
WISH TO NAIL THE DREAMS, BUT,
THE NIGHT CREEPS TO THE DAWN--

YOU
THE AWAKENING BLACK-HOLE
I
THE INFINITE WAIT,
ON THE WINGS OF SENSES
OF THOUSAND FLUTTERING MOTHS

YOU
THE FRAGRANT FLAME OF COSMOS
EVER TANTALIZING-----

desire
like pyre,
like
a piece of wood
i am,
ignite
the spark
with love
if not,
with hate
-- but
remember
deep in
is the spirit
of phoenix--
like
the fire,
hidden
in wood--

"O GOD ! only hand--- only leg
bleeding, hanging to the chopped body --o god !?!"

enough ! to discharge the debt of the soil.

"o god!
these little babies who are supposed to be the metaphor of passion,
are forced to be the product of flesh trade !
these tender hands , supposed to paint the alphabets
are made to clean the riffles !
o god !
they are eating mud--
they are drinking the ***** of animals...."

yes! the survival is important
to break the shackles of this soil.
"O GOD ! O GOD ! O GOD ! O G>>"
no !. no!. sympathy? charity ? i am not the beggar !
do not come on the wings of eagle holding the dove.
if you have a human soul..
demand those who are shedding crocodile tears.
i demand the answer , not the bread of consolation.
do the sons of my soil robbed these big-brothers at any time?
tell them not to declare the renegades as the protectors of my land.
* * * * * *
tigris and euphrates, ganga and godavari
amazan, dandakaranya
somalia, rhodesia---- red with blood
santiyago, madrid, -- echoing
tahir square, beijing, brasilia... burning--
* * * * * * * **
i may be falling down-- but i will rise ...
o big brother... you are not god
you can declare yourself as jesus
i am the child of spartucus

"o god ! are you a terrorist? are you a revolutionary?"

ha ha ha--- let it be.
now , the deserts having oil in lap
the forests having minerals in heart
the voices demanding the natural justice
are these the shelters of terrorists.. revolutionaries ?
let it be!
i am a revolutionary........
to discharge the debt of my soil !!

KNOW NOT
WHY? AND HOW?
I AM ON THIS PATH
THIS PATH WAS MEASURED
BY THE FOOT-STEPS OF THEM,
WHO DARED TO TRAVEL,
BEFORE THE TABOO WAS BORN..
HIDDEN IN ITS BREATH
THE PAIN AND PASSION OF DREAM,
THE DREAM THAT DARED TO EXIST,
IN THE EYES OF FIRST MAID..
MY LORD -- MY LOVE-- MY TEACHER
YOU ARE SO KIND
BUT I AM LEARNING
TO LOVE THE LOVING,
WAITING FOR THE HAND,
THAT HAND WITH A TORCH
THAT LEADS ME TO DESTINY--
OH ! MY LORD!
KEEP YOUR PALM ON MY SHOULDER.
OH ! MY LOVE!
PLANT YOUR TEAR IN MY EYE.
OH ! MY TEACHER!
MAKE ME A TIMELY LEARNER.
WISH TO ROLL THE PATH
----- BEFORE DAWN!

fluttering dreams
the winter flakes
the teasing pearl
the oyster of sky
what a poor bird am i !
soaked in longing
choked in throat of song--
the camphor ball of night
can carry no aura of shore
better to drop the anchor
what a poor bird am i !
soaked in longing
choked in throat of song
perched on the post of sail..

O black beauty !
o wayfarer, unaware of destiny !
anguish,how long ?
like an ancient river challenging the stars?

come, come with me
will collect the shells of dreams
quench our quest of melancholy

going to loose nothing, come!
at all , will rest in the ocean of time
will copulate with harmony

when the thoughts of beloved are sown in my body
the wisdom of passion spreads like moonlight,
when the grim reaper smiles
glittering memories and tears are left on shore,
when the fallen leaf sounds like her anklet
the belief of spring and faith of life are restored

come, come along with me....
o black beauty !
under this moon only
siddharth became buddha
in the lap of this moon only
omar khayyam tasted the nectar
the same moon
i am walking holding you under the same moon !

o black beauty !
the ancient wayfarer !
come, come with me.....

One on the bough above
The flower waving its petals !
The other low near to earth
The bud wagging its head !
The winks spread the fragrance
Let the passion float !
The shore is too near to the hearts dipped
In the tunes of love's nector!
For the minds caught in the sound
Of glittering stones, it is never found!
One on the bough above,
The other low near to earth !
The fragrance celestial spread all around
Make each realise, how melody of life
IS TO BE !
Even thorn wishes to shape into tender desire!
Roaring gales like to blow low through flute!
One on the bough, the other low near to earth!
The fragrance celestial spread all around!
Even hard stones melt to flow with joy!
Let the world be a garden of LOVE!
Let the melody of LIFE spread all around!

like the stream that jumps into the farm-land
like the corn-field that is laden with passion
like the dawn that swings like a golden dream
the sparrow
used to be a chirp on my window shade

the drooping plait of corn-stems in the balcony
the syllables of love letter as an abstract design on floor
the warm incarnation of nature in the eaves
the sparrow
used to be a mystic interjection of past and future

o my companion !
as you apply kohl to your eyes
to control the over-flow of my dreams
as you decorate your grace
to disturb my meditating desire
as you keep my emotion on your fore-head
to arrest my peace like a smile on your lips
the sparrow
used to perch in front of the mirror
to decipher the beautiful secret of co-existence .

o my companion! where the key of love is lost?

now, the window shutter is only the wooden cry-
now, the balcony is only the spoiled canvas
now, the mirror is only the sheet of glass
life is only an extinct dream, now!
o my companion !
cannot we preserve the endangered human values?
cannot we find the little sparrow in front of our mirror?

getting wet
alone
in moonbeams,
so, i am seen
soaked
like a solitary night--

digging
the heart
with crowbar of thought,
so, the gushing of
lyrics of tears--

able to wait
for the trilling notes
of dawn,
so, i can sprout up
like my belief--