Saturday, February 7, 2009

The Vendor and I

It was a dark , very dark night--
Hours of solitude were cruel and killing;
Happiness and gloom, nothing was in sight;
I found myself empty, existence was stinging!

My eyes could see nothing,
My senses could not feel those drops in my eyes,
Silence was irking, every limb was aching,
Life seemed a dale of imitations and sighs.

Then I saw him with his glowing eyes,
I saw the vendor, who sells everything,
From happiness to pain, from laughter to sighs,
His vision was deep and penetrating.

The vendor seemed so ugly and dismal --
His clothes were torn and lacked splendour,
He was different, yet lethal,
His face reflected a cruel vigour.

Yes, I know he was the worst human,
But he was also the most truthful,
He was savage, cynic and brutal,
He looked innocent and yet aweful.

He lived in the castle -- odd and drowsy
That stood beside the ocean of sanguine waters;
The structure was faint and shabby
And amidst was a lake of tears.

I thought all these and then I asked myself
Why am I glad at his arrival ?
For a moment I repented, I cried to myself,
I searched for someone else, I searched for a lost damsel.

I turned to him and asked,
"Can you sell me my past time?"
He exclaimed, scouted and mocked!
As if I had commited some crime.

Then he replied ,"Yes, I sell everything and I sell to all,
But can you buy those?
Those years are but a mirage, a betrayal to the soul,
Some memories of a forsaken life, just like a stale rose."

I was shocked at my incapability,
My failures have once again struck me!
Yet I was content and free,
And free from those years that followed me.

Then I could see an auspicious glitter in him,
He looked confidant and dauntless,
He selled what he had to, he was happy to the rim.
And I knew he bought my darkness.


Dear friend,why are'nt you laughing?
Its a land of happiness where you are,
The stars shine bright and the church bells are ringing,
Trace of gloom and sadness is very rare;
The nightangle sings songs of spring,
The buds are about to open their eyes,
The leaves murmur, the branches swing,
The ocean has hidden in its breast all their sighs;
And the lovely flowers that grow by the roadside
Are dancing too in rhythm,
They have known their existence too is a pride,
As the sun smiles for them;
The tiny pebbles on the street move about randomly
As the soothing breeze carries them
The dust,the rusty leaves are all happy;
Everyone is lost in the game;
Now the green leaves have forgotten to mock at the yellow,
And they together ornate nature's home,
The ocean,the rivers - small, big, deep and shallow,
They all have rights to loiter and roam;
The trees are bowed with fruits on them,
And they are no more selfish, no more rude,
They feel no grievance , no shame
Perhaps they have known the joy of motherhood;
Every trivial being, big and small laugh,
Its the victory of joy over gloominess,
And its a glorious return to nature,
Dear friend, its your comeback to happiness.

Thursday, February 5, 2009

Who Knows?

My friends do not know me,
I come from a mystic nation,
I cant laugh, I cant cry , I cant foresee
I do not have any emotion

The mirror does’ nt show me
The ocean stays still
The mountain bows to me
I am the master of my will

I stay calm , when mortals lament
I pass by the dead lanes
Without a drop trickling down, so silent;
I reside above all feelings and sentiment

I do not wish to know anyone
But I know myself,oh, who says!
My courage says it to everyone
I make my own ways

Who knows when my oddness
Had become me!
Who knows when my lonliness
Had overpowered me!

Who knows when I was desserted
And thrown out to face the cruel self
And then least cared
Who knows when I succumbed to death.

(Written on 05.02.09 at 12 am)

Tuesday, February 3, 2009

In my dreams...

In the depths of dream was I,
When I saw you my friend,
In the depths, alone, there I lie,
Waiting , waiting for the end

I saw a light in the distant lane
Who knows from where did it come
A spark that made me feel alive again
So much my own , so much warm

You came like a gust of wind
And swept everything close to me
Who knows what else is to unwind
And what else is there for me to see

A stagnant pool of water was I
You transformed it to a river
A river that washed away every sigh
A river that may reach you never

An old rusty lock , few discoloured pages
With no one to write a new story
Some idle moments and a stack of memories,
You sought to find out the key

I feel your fragrance in the misty air
I feel your presence in my sadness, in my delight
A friend who is so precious, so rare,
Why cant you see me in your sight?

A stormy winter may be like you
Sweeping away everything
I cry, I urge , but nothing replies to rue
Over my void , leaving behind nothing

And suddenly when my eyes open, I see the reality infront
As stale and silent as ever
Once again set to haunt
Because the river may be lost forever

(Written on 04.02.09 at 8pm)