Learned from you
The art of speaking
May be through figures
Though it is an art
Which I cannot

Learned from you
Art of flying
Far away into pillows
That made up of
Snow and clouds
Without wings.

Learned from you
The smell of mud
Taste of earth
From deep sea
To nonchalant river,
With gust.

Learned from you
Art of let go
Even though
Nothing remains
Food for past
And trembling future.

Learned from you
To burn
And become dust
Swamping the world
With light
And memories of past.

Learned from you
Music of the waves
Mayhem of love
Like the toys I broke
When you hit the stones
At the shore.


An Incomplete Dream

You could desist from thoughts I make
Beseech the rain to hit my body
So that it could wash away the sadness
And those mud splashes beset me,
Refrain from callous weeping of wind
Avid listen to your syllables,
That made me swing in the shrill of vowels,
Like the ingots you smuggled
And casks of wine you drank
Foremost stealth of your beauty
Pallid faces of flowers,
As they die in rain,
For yesterday’s rain swamped earth,
You sprang out of bed with a yelp
Every night with an incomplete dream
Prudence of being a human.


What glimmer when rain end?

Like the shimmering water of the sea
Mind is a desolate place
Where wrath of flowers bloom.
I reiterate the same poems in my diary
While muffled croaks
Of night owl filled the room.
Room was used to blubbering of rain
Since countenance of poem
Seemed vague.
Giving them smell of my skin,
Words sauntered into pages,
Like life levied upon me.
Curtains of my window
Were draped meticulously,
White patches all around.
With an eerie sense I slept,
And the storm was inexorable.
I could see a glint of light
From neighbours window,
The storm bellowed outside
With a heavy hit on the window
As I knew her before,
Because she was with me
We shared bed since childhood,
Though I snug under the blanket
Like I never wanted to hear her.


Lillies I bought you yesterday

Felt your smell
That roves like a flower,
En route I came to a stop
When I see blue flowers
Coated with mist
You were smothered in the snow
As winter was alone,
You went with them
And left me alone,
In the contours of day
I laid on mud, motionless
Waiting for you
To embrace me
As the boat kisses the shore.
You left behind village moon
And started loving city stars
But I never forget
That days we played
Hide and seek
And you went seeking in city
Endured collecting shells
And throwing them back
To the bottom of sea
You were never tired
Of rendition
I thought, you were astray
And squall on shore.
You left behind the lillies too,
Failed to remember the syllables too.



You are forlorn
To sit on a wharf
And feel the cold water
Below your feet
So you pace up
The lofty mountain
With the fleeting view of river
Each time when you run
To conquer the pace.
Nature in her repose
Slept with tiredness
To your outre
So like was the petals
To that of the leaves,
And you forgot it was autumn.
You’re not averse to
The secrecy of nature,
She showed deprecate each time
When It rained
To trust us
With her magics.


The She

When words stand between a woman and her world,
The world never seems to be the real world,
Sometimes we repent for the words we write
And they remind us of our belongings,
As the flower in the crevice
Stopping sorely blowing breezes.
Feeling incongruous with the people around her,
She watches sunset, lets go of everything,
Light, the day and utmost her sun.
Sagacity of life has given her choices
And deep thoughts about the thirst of love,
She stays calm like the sea before storm,
Imploring the chaos to pass
End up seldom finding amiss,
She describes the peace of mind in subtle ways,
For the mind palace of hallucinations
That Let her into slumber,


A Souvenir

I dispatch the letters,
To my brother every Friday morning.
Never had great feat of love
From my brother,
I knew he loved to read letters,
So I write every friday or the other day
If I could
And I stayed nonchalant for rest of the day
When I heard from him.
I used to enumerate stories to him,
Of ghosts that made our wishes true
When he was small,
But things change with time,
When children grew up,
They forget to love or share.
I detained most of my words,
Still I wrote my worries,
For he never replied,
Because silence was doing better,
A souvenir of brotherhood, My letters.


Art of the Artist

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I was vehemently approaching the art,
Mind was transcendent and unapproachable
Profusion of flower scent around me
Floated like the wreath from a ship,
I looked at the prosaic roots cling into mud,
Afternoon seemed like dreary evening
Wind blew fervently around dainty leaves
Poems always sobered me,
I was staring at the water in the river,
Mused by the way it ran across mountains,
Clouds drooped like a mother’s cry for child,
Stars like Splotches, glimmered through
Murky clouds like a thoroughfare between them,
With an eerie sense I detained myself
Petty memories across my mind
I was late for rendezvous with life
Still it accosted me at right time.


I longed to write


One day I Placed a bookmark
On the page I left to write,
It was friday
And I forgot to write.
I remember it was a novel,
With the story of untameable love,
Usually it is a habit
To forget things
When mind is glued with body.
I was endowed with words
Who relish their company
Like a Stagnated river,
Or a riveted glacier.
Often they are abstruse
Like the obscure clouds
I like to live with my intricate thoughts
Which give me mental exaltation.
I abhorred all noises
And listened to the elopement of birds,
They cried loud,
Tinged with warmth of sunlight.
While tampering new world,
You need to revel with love
Unless you should learn forget things,
Especially the similes of your words.




On this Mother’s day I thought of sharing a notion. Being a woman I always wondered why a mother has this much importance in this world. We can choose to be a mother or not. Unfortunately this drawing helped me to think about this. This is a drawing of a child and a mother. It’s simple to analyze it this way. When I saw this drawing, I don’t know why I had this feeling, But I found myself inside this drawing. I felt the warmth and tenderness of a child in my arms. I am not a mother. Still I felt the child. I perceived that it is not necessary for a woman to carry a foetus in her womb and experience the motherhood. Finally I found the mother inside me. I want her to conquer this world with love.. A few lines for her..

I wish to sleep in your arms,
Lift me up, when I struggle
Pierce my darkness, When I am blinded
Teach me to build my garden of goodness
Ignite me with light, Inculcate me with love
I am a piece of your womb, scavenge me….