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

Blog’s Fifth Anniversary !


Dear friends,

It has really been a long time since I interacted with all of you due to my busy schedule of  parallel assignments and work. Yet the quill never stopped and the ink flows incessantly churning out the deep thoughts, embracing with love and weaving them in form of new verses everytime.

WordPress announced today that the’ Blog turns 5′.  So its my blog’s anniversary ! This journey has been possible due to all the lovely blogger friends out here, who have stood with me since years.DSCF4103Each one of you have been equally important in my journey of blogging. This is my first blog and hence holds a special place in my heart.

Thanks to all of you – readers, bloggers and friends. Let me share a poem about birth on this occasion.

Who art thou?

The one who breathes in a cuddle of warm embrace
Tucking memories of every birth in tiny fingers
Whence thou arrive
from which land…?
From the soil of Beethoven or originated from the Rumi’s dervish dance
Had thou runneth beside the Ganga
or thou the leaf from the Bodhisatva
art thou the whiteness of Himalayas
or the pearl of a divine heart?
O! soul! Where art thou from?
While the soft lotus feet curl like petals
Will thou proclaim thy arrival?
O! Little one !
Welcome abode in the depths of our heart…

Thanks and best wishes

©Soumya V

DUST


That frame in the corner mocks

a layer of dust adorns

the past

who hath time to wipe

the cobwebs from corner

to cleanse the muck

lying since ages ov’r the stretched bond…

Lost I’m

how far, how long

how do I carry forth

none tried  hitherto…

then how do I ?

How far, how long?

nothingness ahead…

nothingness behind..

Grace me,

O! my heart.

©Soumyaimg_20160221_161825

“My colour”


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Allow me to paint  thou

thus in my  colour

Every stroke a gentle one

With a dab of aureate emblazoned

Where then  left thee in the dusk of life

towards an unknown goal

Its endless,

the walk of this journey

retread and

embrace

We  flames of divine

born as two souls

burn together

though far

at distant miles

in the lone fire of love.

©Soumya

 

My new venture” Jogi De Naal”


Dear friends,

It has been long since I shared a word with you directly and somehow have been posting less poems than earlier,all because of busy schedules, other involvements  and my new venture.

Yes, learning and evolving keeps us vibrant and lively. My new venture is a project I was working on  produced by my newly established company  “AUDUMBAR ARTS” which would deal with production of music videos, albums, short films and also organize art, music and poetry festivals in future.

As of now, the first video,a Punjabi Sufi fusion “Jogi De Naal” has been released today on Eid  by Audumbar Arts in association with Zee Music Company.

This is a stepping stone for me and the newly  born company.

Iam sharing the YouTube link  with all of you here and hope you all would love it.

Kindly watch and share if you enjoy the song!

 

Best wishes,

Soumya

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.

Hieroglyph


 

Sneak I through the silence

shearing the quiet  fear ,

As I shred

filaments of pain in pieces and bury deep

in gravels of past .

The new saplings of hope grow and flourish

blooming cluster of flowers

few sprinkling drops rejuvenate when they are about to die

Tis law of nature , I , mere the gardener

Come ,lets drown the precarious apprehensions

And live freely to create murals as

hieroglyphical scripture

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