Wednesday, November 19, 2014

Pictorial...

Just like a scene bound by frame
The tramline crisscossing the lane
Had gone away till it had bent
Near the single file seemingly of an apartment,

People of the town could be discovered
In shawls, sweatshirts, pullovers,
Some were walking to the bazaar,
Some had the resting indolence,

The roadside benches had their fill
Old age had come there to kill
All the time that had been left spare,
With wrinkled faces and webbed brows,

A row of trees dotting the pavement
Company to the electric posts lent,
Just where a tibetan shop newly opened
Had queue of connoisseurs for exotic items,

The park nearby seemed like a fair,
Panipuri stalls having business brisk,
And candyfloss were held by little hands
Like cotton balls at the end of sticks,

Just like a picture, bound by frame...

Tuesday, November 18, 2014

At the day's end...

'Corns brought home for poppin'
And the cold outside is just not stoppin'
Ain't it good to be at home this night?'
The father asked his kid, smiling still alright,

The kid had just from a sweet short nap awakened,
His smile had lit the night that broadened,
'But the cold is what made us cozy here,
Can't you get the mild wintry flow in the air?'

The kid made a revert, his eyes full of innocence fair,
'Yes,' the father put his hands on the little one's head,
And then he put the bridge's pin on the disc's lead,
To make an unwinding return for both of them,

To find a meaning at the day's end
Much like a prayer they a song gained.

Sunday, November 16, 2014

Night train

Like a long sentence slipping off sluggish
The train whistled through the mist,
And smell of coca piping warmth
Came and sat on lips,

The window glass had gathered
Dewy existence lucid,
And songs and verses
Played through ribs,

The swinging motion
Had caught a rhythm
By then, the rattling
Sound made a poem,

And the world it seemed
Had gone to sleep.

Saturday, October 18, 2014

Till then,

Soon there would be fabulous
nip in the air and mist would soon
Envelope empty spaces betwixt us,
Till then come we commemorate
The Fall with our songs and masquerades.

Monday, October 13, 2014

a spell of rain and twilight

after a spell of rain
twilight came,

surfeiting so
that a poem
thought I
made a surge,

across the indefinite
October sky,

knowing the moment
would soon away fly,

dipped the self and the eye
into the grandeur of life,

it was no doubt a deliberate act
to getaway from all oft beaten tracks,

it was no doubt a formidable task
to catch the colors of a sobered dusk,

the same colors that had made several
to sing with ease for the long lost grail,

the same feeling that had made one too many
to find in prosaic things forgotten epiphanies,

after a spell of rain
the twilight came
surfeiting so.

Monday, October 6, 2014

Who can more blessed be?

Who can more blessed be than us, mate?
The morn hath broken free in us, of late,
Through the mist of the city that sleeps embowered
Into timeless elegance of Love that took over
Us all the time, this season of wonderous spectacle,
Who can more blessed be than us, tell?
We can rise to the morrow of our own wanderings
We can with throatful ease cause the spring's second coming,
We can sing as sings the nightingale within us,
We can hold the fabulous time and let it not pass,
Who can more blessed be than us?
Whence we can pour inkful hearts by music thus?

Colloque

Can't give away anything
Other than those simple colloquial things,

A tranquil presence of unstirred hope,
A garden green, a mountain slope,
A bunch of nameless wild flowers,
A flight of birds through lighted showers,
A stream murmuring its way through a forest
A spectacle serene by calm of heart blessed,

Can't give away anything
Other than those simple colloquial things.

Sunday, October 5, 2014

On leaves and dews

To that hues of leaves
Take me once,
Just for once
Let me there ruminate
For every leaf I wish to see
Turned flowery,
For on every leaf
I wish to see
Drops of dew
Emerald.