Anthology of Promises

Reduced to an anthology
In the dusty shelves
Of my inherited life, are
Some houses without doors, some
Chaotic prayers and some
Broken Promises made
On the sea shore.

If the voice
Did not reach you, does it
Mean I never promised anything?
With the split of memory, and the
Fire on the grass-gone-dry, I
Forgot the time, but my words,
Carried forward in the wind
Had your name.

Buried in the snow now, the
Spring buds will remind me
Of the autumn and the
Life in the Sun. Wont you
Then sing another daffodil song
For me, to
Make a new promise
In the still wind of the remnants
Of the cold days?

And the promise will
Sleep with a banyan leaf bookmark
While the dust will dull my
Memory. The hope of the leaf
To ride to another page
Will inspire it to
Wait for
Another winter, another
Spring.


Some promises:

Unsung to time, living
The life of the pressed grapes, growing
Beautiful all
Along, but dying
In your death… in its
Last breath, it remembers
The day it was picked from
The vine, when the river flowed
Backwards to the land where
Youth sang and Old age
Danced.

All That We Seek

The quest to live a million lives
In the infinite breaths of
Our finite existence;
The shades of intensity in our
Laughter, peaking at the onset
Of tears of a pulsating color.

At reach are the treasures of
Finality, yet the hands don’t seek
Them. The river of reason
Flows from the sea, into
Its womb. A peak’s unhappy
Story lies in being the gatekeeper
Of the looming decay

All in a day’s story- with
The eyes into tomorrow, the
Heart singing the bygone song, and
A pulsating teardrop not
Knowing the purpose of
Its birth.

Painful Parting Part II – The Parting Song

With the sky as the roof,
We looked at the distant stars, and realized
Of the closeness. The clouds came and
Took away our stars, but
The feeling remained.

In that warmth, we have melted, in
That gust of passing wind between us, we have
Found the untouched touch that
We neither owned nor orphaned.
Somehow, it smelled a bit of me and
A bit of you.

The clouds are no longer hanging
Their curtains on us, but in that newfound
Closeness to the stars, we have fallen miles apart.
And in that muffled breeze, we started
Singing our songs, not knowing
If it'll bridge the distance or just die in
The impending silence.

Distorted Thoughts: Episode I

Only when she gleamed in the stolen light did I realize of the Moon in the sky. And all this time I lived an illusion where my Moon walked beside me.

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She showed me the stars, and while I lay lost in their skies she stole my Moon

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The silence following an applause... does it cry for an acceptance too?

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Times when you roll in a laughter and start believing that your stomach can take no more, times in your distress when the tears would well in your eyes, and still obey the Physics of surface tension---both held by a bond called pain. In it we live: in our Summer, in our Winter. About it we think: in our Spring, in our Autumn.

*** *** *** *** ***

To the endless night we give ourselves, extending our hands into a tomorrow unseen, unknown; hoping that half a rotation of the earth would give what an another half has taken away from us.

*** *** *** *** ***

What is a drizzle that does not excite you to dance? What are tears that do not dry away your pain? What is a laugh that ends in a bondage? What is a wait that does not end at infinity?