SILENT


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the silent throbbing of heart

whose melody is unheard

longs the yearning in unspoken notes

when will the mingling breaths conjure ?

 

Like two souls lost in a solitary desert

beneath this canopy of stars

Oh ! why do I stand alone again

Whence the peeping  moon

quietly hides behind the  grey clouds

and  vanishes

one tiny drop curls and slides

etching a  dry line

every night thus

my eyes silently witness

©Soumya

Transition


Magical are those moments when we get overwhelmed by certain emotions, ones which are inexplicable. Certainly the ones which render  our innermost thoughts on canvas of life in varied colours and forms.

Impermanence is the law of life and change is inevitable.

Sometimes this transition is just  another change  else it brings lot of mixed emotions stocked inside a jar which get released together. Like a burning incense where the fragrance gets diffused along with delicate  fumes in all directions ,so are invisible emotions randomly scattering, within the atoms of the zephyr trying to find out their destination.

They travel collide, run, hide and seek the nucleus of this anxiety,or ecstatic movement. There is no kind of attachment or detachment defined  while in this condition. One feels free ,like a free bird flying above the seven seas and the next minute one tends to feel like chained by societal norms and relations.The strings of duties entangle the perching feathers of  the bird,pinion it to one pole ,while its claw tries to disentangle the sordid caged condition.It gazes at the vast expanse ,yearns to be embraced by the blueness and drops a tear often to be wiped by its own feathers. During the night , the vanishing stars carry its silent soul to another abode which seems real ,yet far from  the reach of its own flight.

 

When bloomed the palash flowers

Brightening the blue skies of my world

They set the emotions on fire letting those  buds

nipped off the branch and smearing the nostalgic ethereal dust

in plentiful measures

Scarlet or saffron ,the deep tinge evoked endless sensations

Which reverberate with the atoms of universe

in a seeking of finding its own abode

Whether at feet of the creator

Or lying unnoticed on ground till shrivels the petal with arrival of different season.

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The walk


The hanging branches of orchids which yearn to droop

And reach me

How enchanting they appear and soothing while their petals brush against my cheek

Isn’t the path where I step barefooted embrace my feet into its heart deep

While the nostalgic air brings sense of belonging to my traveling soul

Which remains awake for nights before it finally rests to sleep

Doesn’t the echoing bells of a temple nearby thud my core ,whence I vibrate with

my pulse dancing to the cosmic lore

will n’t I be teary eyed when overflows my core with emotions inexplicable and words get lost

in the forest where I travel

they like the new born leaves shy ,sometimes shiver as the dried aged ones do before they die

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The humming river


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Let us flow like the perennial river

gushing past the rocks

through the valleys

and down the hills to

our heaven.

 

let us hear the song of chirping birds

play with butterflies

bloom with the orchids

and roll on meadows laughing

and cuddling over.

 

let us climb to the sky

catch the stars twinkling

and draw doodles

of love on heaven

 

will you come over

or beckon me there

to flow together

like the humming river?

 

The ink and the quill


While my heart throbs in the
Misty mornings of winter
Thy soul snuggles for some warmth in my words
I paint the sky saffron embracing thou
 presence

 
Years ago
beside you under the mulberry tree
you had asked
while scribbling
my name on  dust of a storm
will thy  be mine
I had nodded
carving thou  inside deep notches

 
Births later
We sit and dream
Away from one another by  seven  seas
will there be a common sky
a single roof where 
you would be the ink and  I, the quill .

©soumya vimg_20161028_182637

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.

We


IMG_20151211_110914your words pierced every vein

leaving goosebumps

and I saw the lost moment again

In dust I vanished

you in the dew of time

both in opposite directions

but hearts connected for lifetime

with a sigh,

the hope dawns with every morn,and sets

in the night dark

a moment to be together

leaving the world aside.

.

©SoumyaV

She lives nowhere


She lives nowhere
 neither in her own cage
 nor in open air
 homeless, shelterless she moves…
 seeking solace
 would the tranquil blue provide
 her some rest
 will the traveling clouds quench her thirst ageless,
 in the crowd, she gets lost
 her voice diminishing to nothingness
 where ‘s she now
 where is her abode 
 in the limitless sky
 she searches for her unique dwell.
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