Souls in transcendence!


on the falling and rising tidal waves
amidst the rough climate
surpassing every storm and  hazy days
through silent, restless nights…

after years of deplorable moments…
wandered through the dense darkened forests
searching for the soul close and intimate…
the lonesome hearts sought for real happiness…

wrenched by twists of life,
in clenched fists of relations with strife
in silence humble ,
bringing on every face a smile…
the solitary souls walked in the arid desert
thirsty and naive.…

hitherto unaware of each other
walking alone on the same path…
yet away from one another…
two distinct flames of the same Creator
come across at a juncture…

Thence, conspires the Galaxy with the stars,
to guide the souls and illumine their path…
a radiant effulgence from the heaven
burns continuously
as a wick of the lantern…
which brightens
their traversing path…

 the twin souls, thus
earn the command
of destiny and fate’s predicament
assimilating in eternal fire
of  love and existence…
becoming one in transcendence.

photocredit:galleryhip.comswan

 

 

Thou! Champa!


O! Thou! tranquil peace of my heart
I await your presence
soak me by thy shower of fragranced love
utterly in delight, I whisper!

between the breath of mine and thine
dances the pulsating heart
that which once was mine
now adorns as your part!

Look! thine magic worked upon
the mystique feeling is on
like the champa flowers ,
Thou !enthrall…
I, as the jasmine statued captivated with your fall…

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3175930594e99da1aa2237

CHILD OF WORLD’S DESTINY


CHILD OF WORLD”S DESTINY

 

On streets forlorn
Walks the child, destitute
The infant of world’s destiny…

 In rags torn
hungry and homeless
roaming through lanes
for a morsel!

The rulers sit on a lavish throne
speak high volumes of chore
actions fail to achieve
war and blasts kill
the child of world’s destiny
lives as a requiem…

Do not wither !


Do not wither
O! season of unison!
Wait until,
I meet my love!

Embrace thy lilies
leap and kiss the
clouds
While I wait
for my companion
Remain here for
sometime more
my love shall arrive
the air will be fragrant again
The birds will sing and
love the flight
Sing! O! season of unison
Here awaits my heart
For the love ,who is miles apart…

 

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Spring-meadow

 

Melancholic drops!


shared I , the melancholic drops

fell which on the blossom of life

drenching my fabric

whence I treasure a casket

of those translucent gems for you.

 

not before long

they had rolled swiftly

away was the spring of love then,

missed thy ,my gorgeous raindrops

doused which as the early monsoon.

 

I realize ,how precious you

find them, glittering and shining

preserved , saved thus

like jewels

the drops melancholic…

 

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teardrops_by_try_to_touch

Danseuse of Konark!


An epitome of grace,
as figurine in  tribhanga
The ultimate superfluous aura radiates
in the dancing statuette …
on beats pulsating,reverberate which the atoms of air
she steps on earth,kissing the soil of her motherland
with hands folded in a lotus shape,
her fingers offer the love of her heart,
she, the classic danseuse of  Konark!
 
Behind her, wheels of the royal chariot of Sun stand
withstanding years of scorching heat and sordid weather
The rustic sandstone roughens every moment
while her feet thumps in rhythm ,on every beat of the Mridanga!
 
Echoes the melancholic intense love of Geet Govinda,
sways the sculptured posture like a waving petal…
tenderly mesmerizing the ambience
in every atom of the milieu …
 starts the Abhinaya.

 

What an enchanting sight!
an alluring panorama…
The vista shines in flamboyance
in the ethereal dance
with the myriad hues of heaven…

 

Tribhanga: Pose of Odissi dance.

Mridanga: Indian drum,                           

Abhinaya: an Odissi dance form
Geet Govinda: an epic in form of verse written by Jaidev

photocredit:odissistyle.blogspot.com

odissi-dance-poster

Births a new age!


She fights her battle like a valiant warrior

sporting a new robe of courage .

guarding off herself with a rapier glazed

slashes the nonsense and babble

shedding the dead old skin .

yet unlike the rest, she dares forth

determined,

in her combat with the vagaries

of social metaphor.

 

Her weapon is the most powerful,

,the five and half inch pen

killing millions with a single severe blow

of words…

while

reviving hundreds from the dead chores…

A new hope rises from the ashes of oblivion

A neoteric incarnation of a woman

in the dominion of chauvinists…

 

spoke she with humility

pulling the truth that laid beneath the mattress

she shakes the conscience of the slumber,

to lift the losing values of human coherence…

Births a new age,

When a woman is

armed with intelligence

fortified by mental strength

ready to shoulder the task

in a nations’ progress.

 

 

 

AT THE FEET OF THINE !


I wish to be the tiny flower lies who,

at the feet of thine…

Instead of the jewel that shines in thy crown

O! immortal Krishna ! I sing your praise

in verses of mine!

 

The brilliant gem bedecks your aura

Outstands it every precious stone

O! but it cannot see thy face benevolent

even while decorating… in thy diadem…

 

I , the lonely flower, rest in thy feet

grace bestows my presence

When thy eyes look at me…

 

Thou universe that rotates around you thee!

I unaware of the method,

here! I sit and surrender at your feet

O! Krishna ! Raise me from

the chasms of time!

 

 

 

 


here moves the pen
words emerge ,
an intrinsic art
in an ink of sadness…
as the verse loses its rhythm
the imagery gets tarnished,
caged get the free thoughts
once were they flying birds

dreams of myriad colours
vanish
in darkness of the hue
searches the mind
an inspiration to continue…

moves my pen

scribbles the mind in air

words emerge out of nowhere.