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…

 

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 …


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.

Music of the “Mighty King”


listen to the music melodious
the fluttering of leaves in shade of summer
the river gushing through rocky terrains
the chirping of birds on dawn
rains droplets falling in rhythm…

blissful tune of the nightingales
stormy winds and lashing waves
the cool serene touch of grass
flying above the cottonballs
standing mountains sheltering, the land afar…

Harps the wind on the twigs and trees
the melody of a song pristine…
enchanting as the flute of the lord
the harmonic composition
of the MIGHTY KING!

Rise , Rise & Rise!


From the gravels of the earth to the surface of the mantle,

Screams and demands every particle of dust,

Enough is enough!

Stop the turmoil and killings

That spreads throughout the air of pollution,

Hovering over the intoxicated breath

Of men,women and children,

crushing the delicate shrubs of innocence

What is this mayhem for!

Halt for a moment! Think !

does your heart really wants this?

close your eyes,feel the terror…

That which appears in a dying man feeble,

War, violence and royal feuds,

Wake up people! Wake up nations!

Is this a place which you have dreamt for ever!

Weapons, explosions have deafen the ears

atrocities of bloodshed …contaminate the

…atmosphere,

Awaken O! humans,

who slumber through the life

…in despair,

Kindle a flame in every heart of the sphere

sing and march against the deathly obscure

Rise, Rise , & Rise

It’s the Sunrise,

Let the golden rays dawn on earth

with a new hope and conviction,

Be humans!

O! inhuman souls …

The world awaits you… in despair.

THE GARDENER


Lie down , on the soft green grass.
The silken carpet is spread for you
for you to rest
on the cosy emerald
 with ease and  comfort …
The gardener tonight watered the weeds
Lo! It transformed into a satin sheet..,
How much he cares ,
Do you realize…
He snipped off the rough edges
while you sleep…
 
Open your eyes ,
absorb the beauty..
The vast sky spreads its arms with care…
 
The gardener awaits …
till you wake up…
a thousand flowers  embrace your season…
with ravishing dew drops
will the jewels shine…
 your soul and heart  forgets
There is a gardener to water,
The Garden of your life!

“To Rise”- A Verse for Women’s day



It’s a dream ,

 A simple wish

Neither jewels fancy me

Nor the glitter of being rich…

As a tiny colourful bird,

I want to wing my feathers

Spreading in the open air

To hover over the colourless ocean…

 

Clipped , chained,

I lay in tethers

In the dark abyss

The dust of nostalgia

Suffocating my nostrils…

 

From ages , restrained I am

Crumpled like a rose ,petals crushed,

Oh! Who doth seen ,

The blood that oozes

When Iam strangled within my shelter…

 

Buried beneath the fire ablaze

Watch the smoke moving high

Kisses it ,the clouds white…

I await…to be born again..

from the ashes of the pyre…

Like a phoenix ..of modern times.

 

The Grey Shawl!


Beneath the grey shawl

I still shiver and tremble,

It shrouds my figure

Yet is devoid of the warm ensemble.

 

Sparingly I look up

Or try to search

The tattered shawl needs a mend

Few stitches shall repair the imperfect shred.

 

With a needle of courage

A thread of hope

I hide the patch and refurbish

It’s a new wrap in possession

The old torn is nowhere…

Water wont seep in

through the pores of this mantle ever…

From the pen of a woman!


I burnt the effigy of the old customs
Is it  a sin,
amidst the snowy chilled world Iam standing,
Grant me thy courage to withstand
And  forbear the ransom
That which strangles my existence….
 
I , born to be thus,
A silent crusader,
A life long fighter,
What shall then
stop my battle…
behold, I watch the world mutely,
beware!
my ink  screams with utmost intensity!
 
The  pen  dwells through my veins
narrating the tale of agony and miseries!
does the splendid  ink speak of glory
or stories magnanimously  told as lie!
 
whatever it  echoes , it shall resonate
the sordid  reality
of   mankind!

THE COMMON MAN !


What made the common man suffer in the fight for survival?
What made him so vulnerable against the pitiable condition?
Who tied his hands behind ,with strings of unfaithful symptoms?
Forgetting the core of humanity ,what makes him shed his dead skin?
 
The political vendetta is blame game of irrationalism
Have you ever watched the chameleon with different colours?
 
Beside the scene, sits the common man quietly
When shall his inner voice scream for justification…?
 
Shall a crusade ever start
within the hard core shell of man
wears who the mask of public, politician, official or lawmaker
 Of different genres , of different dispositions
 Tis the mankind which suffers…
offspring of whom we are …
lost,stranded and
 forgotten.