You cannot define silence as something that lacks sound.....
Let the lack of my own voice be heard.....

O mother, take me there, where I find the gratifying grace,

Take me there, where I dwell in bliss,

Take me there, where I ramble in rapturous joy,

Take me to that miraculous planet and nurture me,

O mother, take me there, where I find the tantalizing nothingness,

Take me there, in to the surrealistic world and let me ponder over the nature’s allegories,

Take me to this exuberant excursion,

O mother, I have become claustrophobic, I cannot live in this enclosed space,

Take me to the infinity where I have no confinity,

Take me through the valleys of sunshine and glory,

O mother, Let me live the eternal love,

Let me smell the soil,

Let me hear the choirs of sea,

Let me be an epicurean,

Let me squelch and tread on the planet,

Let me see the picturesque of nature,

Let me lay my body on the roots of heaven,

Let me dandle on your knees,

Let me construe the dappled sky,

Let me live and leave,

O mother, instigate your benign impulsion,

I long to see you and the world,

I want to be resurrected,

O mother, I loved you before I knew, I believed in you before I knew.

It seems that only enormous longing makes me to contemplate on you but not the moments of self-happiness,
Because when I am happy by myself I don't think about anyone or anything,
But do I want the happiness that doesn't include you?,
Antithesis is that enormous longing accrued over a period of time becomes suffering,
but I am absolutely happy to live this suffering which comes along with longing,
Because the moments of longing that thinks and yearn for you makes me much more blissful than moments of happiness that comes without you...
albeit the moments of longing are suffering...
I am willing to go through all the pain that comes along with your contemplations,partaken moments...

With the first Roar
Galaxies fell out of your
Void. Here we scream
to throw out all that
checks and chokes us.
In a Roar you created
the limitless Creation of yours
In a Roar, we wish to destroy
the listless creation of ours.

Hoping our roars will resonate
with your mighty Roar of Creation.

Tear we did the chords of Sound
Open we did the doors of the Profound.

May every wimpy sound we
make be in tune with your Roar.

In search of truth

Did I go back and forth

Wandered through mountains

Bathed in rivers sacred

With the pious

Whichever way the blind pointed

With hope and zest me travelled

Every which way I smelled his scent

But round and round is all I went

Wasted lives to know the one who is not

But the feverish pitch of seeking would cease not

What does it take to fathom the ocean

Even fish or whale is clueless of the ocean

It is only the salt that can be ocean

A salt doll I became

Just a plunge made me the ocean.



So all it needs is a plunge.

I want to be a bard in the consciousness of the confluence of your eyelids,
Where the sounds merge into silence.
And nurture me from where your consciousness sprouts,
I would thrum like the waves of the ocean to the emanations of your reverberations....

Somewhere after the nothingness and
antecedent to this somethingness,
Where you and me aren't two but an absolute one,
Where you and me aren't distinguishable by any means and no means,
And Where the time is unleashed from the unboundedness,
I want you to come to there with me consciously,
And that's where we will stay forever....ever...

Precious chance for a lonely thought,
Loose, slip-fades sinuously free
A melodious stream of nostalgic mist
From a mug of Arabica sea.

Curiously exhaled from dissonance
In an amber lit café.
He imagines himself a sojourner,
A wayfarer without a way.

Long shore drift en echelon
Long minutes march by metronome
Long is the spellbound beachcomber
For an island all his own.

Long is the dream of an inland man
Lost to his seaside girl.
Diver down where the standard waves
Swimming dizzy for a polished pearl.

Light from her eyes plays on sea glass chips
Tumbled in the curling waves
That crest and break on a beach that waits
for a wish he once had made.

The surf is heard like a lingering kiss
breathing ripples on the smoothening sand
And just as the whisper and simmering fades,
Another promise swells, tumbles, and lands.

The ocean is love running breathless,
In a race between the moon and the sun,
Causing tides to surge across the poignant curve
Of an incandescent blue horizon.

A tranquil star contracts and bursts
In pulsing neon spires.
There’s forever a star expiring
While life glows from embers in a dying fire.

If this writer could paint, it would be a portrait
of the empty space beside him.
Awaiting the image of a seagoing girl,
He turns his canvas into a thirsting ocean.