The Rainy Season


 

The Rainy season- A random musing

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Like the beautiful  flowers of palash, popularly known as fire of the forest, I was burning . The inner turbulence  like the  upheaval of tides made me rise and fall against the heavy rocks of life.

Had the shore been sandy ,I wished to have laid myself on the shore surrendering to  the splashing waves of a sea,but nonetheless,it was n’t such.It was rocky.

Life isn’t what we dream and wish for! We have to create a path to realize this dream  and then walk on it ,many a times getting pierced by innumberable thorns .

The fragrance which disseminates in the atmosphere is usually of the wild flowers growing on open meadows and hillsides, those which bring freshness in life and also in the monotonous mundaneness. Pruned, I loved watching birds flying in the sky, they seemed to be so happy, free and delighted ,marching towards their goal . Their wings unfettered and whistling to their favourite tunes they sang whenever they wished .

A sense of freedom filled the heart and I wished I could fly thus like the wading birds.

The riot of colours in the evening sky brought more nostalgia  as I walked towards the mound on the top of the mountain. This rainy season, nothing had changed.

I can’t let it die


I can’t let it die

The solitary poetic sigh

Which breathes in minute pauses

Betwixt the gaps of worldly duties and entangled chores

Neither let it suffocate in the fumes of  intoxicating insecurities

Nor allow the pangs of survival and existence wipe the ethereal pastels

Those vernacular treasures fastened securely in caskets of thoughts

Transform as they rise and glow as embers in the sky to twinkle till ages eternal.

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Other side !


beneath that blueness does life smile
like the pretty lilies
 enraptured dance
does the rivulet sing
songs of love
can it dissolve the pain
of burning years
which path shall reach to this realm
where pure would be the air
and clear emotions,
O! thee!
 Will thou lead me to other side
 into such heaven ?

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Lore from the mountains


while I lie numb next to the
corridor of spring
where sings the cuckoo
whence the loving breeze slips past me
Melody of spring, a sweetness splendid
Here I lie
near the gates of morn
while sleeps my companion
faraway
behind the sun near horizon
I watch the blooming lilies,
their smile ,so intoxicating
…fragrant bunches of love in extravagance
Here I lie near the window of hope
within the bars of life
caged is the soul
in body
of survival…
I witness the mystic creations
the tranquil river knew my lore
that flowed beside your cottage
while mesmerized tall conifers
overlooked the minute gambles
near the mountain door .
Here I lie in fragments,
gathering bits to create a new mural
brushing colours picked
from nature to the
once dead existence.
©SoumyaV
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Tis not Halloween’


donning a mask,

lives lived

like on stage , they believed

world is surely a theatre

and we the actors…

forget they while

running through script of the legend

the ink flowed out of incontinence

behind the curtain ,

exists the real

curtailing while shaking hands

endless follies,what true nature

hath a human displayed

weeps the soul under the canopy of body

in large measures

masks attractive, masks colourful

Halloween allows phantasmagorical faces

yet every day isn’t Halloween

forgets the human

switching masks umpteen.

STATURE


Thou as tall as the majestic Everest

thy length can never be measured in yards

thy width expandable as the vast azure

I lose my self in the blueness of thou  ! Krishna

in thy depth is the ecstatic endless ocean

I immerse and submerge

in the sublime waves

to dive deep

and reach the zenith of bliss.

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