and soon enough, i'll be gone. you'll be gone. we'll all be gone.
i thank God everyday for the art of moving on.

I was high on flowers
But ready to inhale winter

Grey dark spots of misery,
Dancing through the outreach of his fingers,
Breathing with every slice of his regrets,
Haunting the power time held .
Words can be judged, true,
If only they exist.

A poem dedicated to all true lovers of Jazz.

TRIBUTE TO JAZZ MUSIC
      BY RAJ NANDY
I can feel its rhythm and beat,
Along with its pulsating pain!
Its music flows freely….
Through my arteries and veins!
Its beats always echoes,
Through the corridors of my mind,
As I get wafted slowly, on the wings
of mystic time!
Its music gets synchronized,
With my heart’s muffled beat,
As I try to keep time, -
With the tapping of my feet!
Each of its pulsating rhythm,
And all its background chimes,
With its syncopated lilts,
Jazz remains harmonized!

The piano players dancing fingers,
Caresses a rhythmic sway,
While the Sax’s deep-throated tenor,
Drives my loneliness away!
When I hear my old Jazz music,
And those golden classic tunes,
I forget I am getting old,
To time I become immune!
For it is then when I begin to feel,  
like the old King Cole;
As this music tingles my mind,
and rejuvenates my soul!
           - Raj Nandy, New Delhi.