Archive for November 5, 2018





sticky cricket midnight blues …




plucked

teased


drummed

tugged


pulled

lured


seduced

embraced


by a dream


and though

dreams too must take flight


as shall this fantastical night


of

kissing nightingales


to the cricketty-crick

of a solitary cricket …


“life, eh old chap, sticky wicket”





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Serenity beckons,

a mirage of soft blues, flaming scarlets,

colours ablaze with tender compassion,

I wish for nothing fancy,

for just as the wilting rose,

weakened by the autumn sun,

at rest, peaceful,

waits for the coming of spring,

so do I,

wait patiently,

for the love that you so exquisitely bring

she took me in, when i was broke and broken,

she held me close, when i spun wordy webs, with half-truths spoken.

she mended my bruises, while i leeched off her spirit, a true light that soared free,

she breathed life into me, when i stubbornly refused to see.

she chipped away at the encroaching wall, that hid me from her, that distanced me from all,

she lent a hand, picking up my pieces, each time i stumbled, every time i took a fall.

she was too good for me, i can in truth say that today,

clasping my hand, as again and again i chose to cowardly crawl away.

today, i know that mere apologies are hollow, and sorry seems far too easy to say,

yet i am sorry, and ever thankful, for her infusing the light of hope, in far too many a darkened day.

today i also know these words are hypocritical, too easy while ensconced in my comfort zone,

today i also know, that for sentiments flung into the wind, it may never, in truth, be ever possible, to in honesty, atone.



the rapids of life smashed me against the jagged rocks of fate and time,

I tried my best to cope with the day-to-dayness of a society mired in cruel slime,

I tried, I cried,
I felt so cold I thought that I may have died.



Shattered shards of glass littered my path ahead,

I faked smiles though within I was dead.



The promises of joy seemed a mirage untrue,

which is when I found solace when I met you.



You shush my hearts cries,

you take me on your unfettered wings, soaring across the bluest skies,

your love is simple, tender, shielding me from the unbearable crowd,

your love is a balm, soothing me with gentle light, banishing every dark cloud.



This is why you are my world, a universe in my heartbeat,

a love so pristine, so warm, holding onto me so I may never retreat,

to that frigid void, that unfeeling vacuum that shrouded me,

before you took my hand in yours,

before you became the eyes through which I see …



from google




The Sound of Distant Ankle Bells …



Memories of those delicate tinkling bells,

casually fastened around calloused feet,


take hold of my waking moments,


and fling my thoughts back to a distant time,

where folk-songs were heartily sung,

joyful, yet hopelessly out of rhyme.




I barely saw her, a construction labourer perhaps,

hauling bricks, cement, anything, on a scorching Delhi day,

while in the semi-shade of a Gulmohar tree, her infant silently lay.




A cacophony of thoughts such as these swirl around,

yanking me away from the now, to my cow-dung littered childhood playground.




Now, a lifetime of displacement has hushed the jangling chorus of the past,

to a faint trickle of sounds, as distant as an ocean heard inside tiny sea-shells,


and,


I know, that the orchestral nostalgic crescendo, rises, dips, and swells,

as tantalisingly near, yet a world of time away, as were the tinkling of her ankle-bells.




from google






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