Births a new age!

She fights her battle like a valiant warrior

sporting a new robe of courage 

guarding off herself with a rapier

  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.      

Illuminate the darkened chamber!

Amidst the cacophony of worldly duties
loses one,
peace frantically…
paranoid gets the existence
with the disturbed surroundings…

How to remain tranquil
within the chaotic frame,
confused,
amidst the withered bloom of children
and tinkling sound of the pennies near
amongst the cold blooded souls of human race
lost and stranded ,stands the lonesome ,
with a sad wear!

deviate the eddy currents
Those which confuse and trample…
instill the seeds of faith and hope 
on the mowed earth
awaken thy sleeping form 
enkindling the wick of courage
illuminate the darkened chamber
to brighten the world forever.

Which way you run!

O! FEEBLE HEART

Which way you run!
O ! feeble heart!
Where doth you seek and search for love,
in human ,
of the dead flesh
in the darkness of emotional cave
through forests of thoughts
in ruthless veins
or the minds that …slumber…
and indulge in selfcentredness…

what maketh you flee to
these strangers of the unknown play…
Hath you not known,
It’s a stage,
illusion is the world
identities fake…

Then how could you ne’er know,
The search for love,
is on a different path ahead, pulled where
You will be through
the sacred thread..

When comes the moment,
The dawn radiates…
rises the soul …
Thence on a journey, the eternal quest begins
Love sublimates…

It’s the Divine, where you doth find
the truth of affection and love …
in His Glory ,in His Name…

 

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!

 

 

 

 

MOONLESS SKY

in the dark hours of midnight

while the moon ducked and slept tight,

the ruling stars twinkled and smiled

“we are the sparkle tonight”…

 

for hours they played

they ran across

in the vast sky stretched till long…

 

without limits without inhibitions

dressed in luminous white constellation

shined they and sang together

their own song…in cosmic rhythm.

 

what a gorgeous night

it turned to be

the moon was hidden amidst lap of destiny…

as the dawn neared

the stars vanished

bidding adieu to the world for a while.

THE REAL POET

O! look ,there’s the real poet

who pulled out his heart

adorned it with

“the blows of ruthless love”

the mute feelings unearthed from gravels

slide as drops across the scar

creating a magical aura

in between the theme.

The silken imagery of fabulous scenes

diced with stupefying verses

dipped in the blood ink.

 

Oh! He rolled out his soul

on the streets and alleys

where once lived his wife to be

in the deserted palaces

and through the lanes of slum

wanders he , frantically.

 

 

Wondrously he conversed with the birds

Kissed the floating clouds

flowers danced to his tunes

in broad daylight , he fears

Under the starlit sky, he wanders

 

Alone he undertakes the journey

for miles in deep slumber

and in his solitude .

 

Look ! Oh! There’s the real poet

His soul dripping with blood and love

resented by the world

he now

is named lunatic

psychic he is referred to

on the path of destiny.

THE SPLENDOR

 

silently the stream cuts through
the green land into two
runs the parting silken
adorned with the water crystal clear
tiny sparkling drops
glitter in the midst
thousand uncleaned feet
loved and kissed
thy splendour shines in
the golden light of love
like a silver ornament
which bedecks on a woman.

MUTE LOVE

MUTE LOVE

Perished the leaf
The fresh fluorescent green
That which crowned the royal twig …
Why did it die,
What happened ,asked the passer-by?

Lamented the tree
The orchid flower was her love
She adored the flower throughout her life
yesterday it accidentally got crushed
When a traveler plucked it
and crumpled …

The moment it saw the petals shriveling
The pain of the flower trembling
the little leaf couldn’t withstand
thereby died the next instant.

It was a mute love between the two
tied by bond of unusual love of dew
The drops those covered the orchid petals
slid down to the leaf
through the sepals.

As gift of love
it drank every bead
caressed the drops kissing her feet
breathing the perfume of her love,
The leaf respired every minute…

When the scent got buried in the soil of life
The green leaf too died …

Gracious art!

through the passage of turbulent times

runs the stream of love divine

narrowed which the chasm of nothingness

filled the vale with fragrant roses.

 

ravines cut by the flow of words

on the rocky path or desert

bruise the tender heart

the balm for this ache is rare,

hard to realize

and exceptional to find!

 

love for the soul

kindness at heart

benign the wellness,

gracious becomes the art!

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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.