twisted love

cold-blooded,
but often with a rhythm
her heart is a chamber –
of secrets lying hidden

mother! mother!
lovingly, they called her
oh! kindest heart of all,
whispers breezed around her

but, deep in her bosom
cuddled a green monster
fed by her envy, and
nourished by her anger

spewing pure evil,
across her worn veins
simmering, wasting,
tethered to disdain

a little afraid, a lot twisted
she glanced at the mirror
her conscience descended –
in a deviant gossamer

turn me into a firefly

you wish to keep me in a bottle
turn me into a firefly
so you could see me glow
but, one day – I’d surely die
that alas do you know!

you write a little love note
then fold it and shove it.
now its inside this book –
hiding, never to be found
you regret what you wrote?

you try to shower petals
like one moves pieces
on a chess board, but
deceit, strategy and tricks,
are all your heart can afford!

you dig into your memory well –
of old desires and romances galore
there is nothing to sieve, no fires aglow
just an empty gaping infinite hole
with no happy endings to tell.

In honour of World Poetry Day, March 21, 2018

“Poems are trees where words attain nirvana!” – Old Fox 004

like a dried up petal

like a dried up petal
between your pages,
like little chirping birds
flying inside cages,
I feel squeezed –
like truncated messages

like the first drops of rain
slipping through your fingers
like the first kiss of love
glowing through the embers
I feel numb –
like auto reminders

like a wafting sunny breeze
tugging at your justifications
like a guilty conscience
caught in endless multiplications
I feel so wasted –
like app notifications

like an abandoned sea shell
swept across the shore
like the ghosts of the past
knocking at your door
I feel stagnant –
like the ‘Read more’

like a soft healing touch
filling up an abysmal gap
like the smell of dead roses
lying still on your lap
I feel so petrified –
like an uninstalled app

Look into my eyes…

eyes

Look into my eyes and you will see
Little pictures of you and me
The promises you made
The dreams I wove
Together building the story of ‘we’.

                         *

Come closer and you will hear
The silent cries hidden in my tear
Of promises broken, of dreams crushed
Of the many magical stars
We never touched.

                         *

Open my diary and you will feel
Between the pages a sweet love poem
My secret wishes also lie bare
A few dried petals, their fragrance
Captured forever in there.

                         *

Look into my eyes and you will see
Little pictures of you and me
Come closer and you will hear
The silent cries hidden in my tear
Open my diary and you will feel
Between the pages a sweet love poem.

                         *

(Dedicated to ‘World Poetry Day’ today.)

quilted thoughts

of scattered feelings,
and quilted thoughts
a little here,
and a little there

sewed together
with a broken thread, and
leftovers from a time gone by

of little whimpers and many whys
of little joys and many sighs

once ethereal, beyond dare
now lethal, full of scare

let me go, her muted screams
stained the silence
of strangers nearby

pierced, shattered
but quilted with care

her thoughts lay strewn
within the crease –
of the bare

they laid the quilt
over waters welling by
the brook stood still –
but, she floated by

of scattered feelings,
and quilted thoughts

now neither here, nor there!

A musical poem for dad

Every so often I used to ask my dad, “Why do you wait for me? Why can’t you just go off to sleep?” the few times I touched home later than my usual time. He wouldn’t utter a word. Only he could feel a dad’s fear with a growing up daughter in the big bad city of Bombay. So, he’d waited for me that day too – for the final goodbye after his daughter came home safe. He had smiled and waved, while quickly pretending to go off to sleep. I walked up to his bed and smiled at him, checking if had been running a temperature; little knowing that this was our last piece of conversation. And, a little while later, he was gone; the god of death had sent his agents right after our smile exchange!

And then, I realised why he always waited for me, and also why I feel he is always there for me.

Here’s a little musical poem dedicated for him, on this Father’s Day:

Happy Father’s Day!

जिन खामोशियों से डर रहे थे . . .

जिन खामोशियों से डर रहे थे
आज उन्हीं खामोशियों के सहारे हो तुम,
जिस जगह दुबारा आना नहीं चाहते
आज वहीँ आ रुके हो तुम।

जाने यहाँ कौन सा सामान पड़ा है तुम्हारा
पुरानी चीजों का तुम्हें शौक तो नहीं
देखो, यहाँ राख बना पडा है सारा
किसी भी तस्वीर में तुम्हारा नाम ही नहीं।

“हम यादों मे जिंदगी बिता देंगे” कहकर
अपने ही अंदाज़ में जीते थे तुम
शहर को छोड़, अपनों को भुला कर
नई राह पर चल दिए तुम ।

वक्त ने ना साथ दिया तुम्हारा
यादें खीँच ले आयी दुबारा,
बिन बुलाये मेहमानों की तरह
आज फिर लौट आये हो तुम।

जिन खामोशियों से डर रहे थे
आज उन्हीं खामोशियों के सहारे हो तुम,
जिस जगह दुबारा आना नहीं चाहते
आज वहीँ आ रुके हो तुम।

Image courtesy: InternetMonk

a little tear goes trickling by…

slowly slowly the drops form
sometimes salty but always warm
a little red flashes at times
once you miss it, once it dies!

mindless, ceaseless, raining drops
trickling, rushing, hiding drops
drop by drop maketh a puddle –
liquid pain anchored in a muddle

years of anguish and some despair
all tucked within the beautiful pair
each has a tale tied by a string,
like beaded pearls hanging on a ring

sometimes silent, sometimes playful
a little nudgy, a little hopeful
a little tear goes trickling by
finding no foe, no friends nearby…

Cuteness personified!

tiny drops behind chilly eyes
a trickling smile hiding some lies
hither and thither, she paces around
tugging at her skirt, wondering beyond

they checked her shoes, her hair and nails
but couldn’t listen to her pounding veins
her ponytails ended in squiggles
much like the little mischiefs in her brain

where is my teddy?
why this bag is so heavy?
why do i have to sit quietly?
why does my teacher not love me?

chugging along her messed up plans
playtime was now a new boardgame
pencils and crayons, her new fast friends
life has to move on – she knows this then

cute like a packet of gems was she
a little muddled, a little naughty
daddy’s little princess, mummy’s baby doll
oh why o why is this school at all!

P.S: I saw this girl and recollected my first day at kindergarten.

Never say Goodbye…

time may not heal
my internal wounds
scars seldom reveal
the pain it has been through

i’m lonely and afraid
of the long road ahead
do hear my muted screams
and reply to my eternal ‘why?’

i wish upon a falling star-
just a little word from you
a tease, a taunt, a mischievous nudge
for anything will do

the angels beckon
ever so often
begin from the page where
you left your diary open
so be it and let’s move on
together forever, hand in hand

its a new beginning,
a new spirit to live by
a brand new body, a dazzling smile
together we shall walk
a thousand and more miles…
so never say goodbye

P.S: a little note to my beloved bro who just crossed beyond the blue skies!