Just another day


As quietly the RADIANCE OF moon PEEPED FROM THE DARK CLOUDS , it was an introspective moment….

The day was full of mundane activities, when chaotic rumbles of noisy surroundings had deafened my ears and thoughts were in a  turmoil.

We yearn for silence: each beat of  heart  counts and tries to camouflage  this desire by masks pulled over their faces by societal pressure or hypocritical nomenclature.

Falsity, ego, masks of indifference, inhumaneness, snobbish attitudes, superiority complex, haughtiness…where does all this lead to ? Why the need to mask ourselves every moment, that one tends to forget the real self?

The innocence and simplicity of childhood , the purity of thoughts and true expressions of feelings are all lost somewhere in the storm of  desert where people are running after  mirage and forgetting the path to the oasis of life.

The resting soul in repose 
Which often forget to connect
Then begins the process of initiation
Where we find happiness inside
And seek the divine grace
Years or times unlimited it takes
yet an ephemeral  moment can ignite and build the path 
to attain consciousness

@soumyav
Photo : Soumya Vilekar

Whether by cuddling in a corner of home or strolling beside an unknown path which randomly travels to the outskirts of a city, the yearning  heart finds solace in  quietness of  lingering music of breeze or in the rustling of trees or in the moving clouds ,even in dancing waves of a sea. The majestic mountains or even the meadows which run along the hills of freshly emerged greenery  embrace us with their quietness.

The Roadway


would it..
will it not?
the roadway to the final destination
would carry the fragrance of
soil... dried leaves and the sweat along?
will it spread the nostalgia of sojourn
while the swaying branch bends to
 brush the tresses
Will the dust speak of the crimson sunset
floating in the air
or of the wading birds bidding adieu
to lakes and pollen of distant flowers
will the anchor of sail...sing tale
of rough weathers
or the vessel explain the trembles of
turbulent waters
would the altar of purpose...
reverberate nuances of the voyage
....
Breathe then... inhale the redolence ;
...like a feather this
will vanish forever...lost,
 in the treading soil
of the travel...

@ Soumya

For Another Dawn


Window of thoughts open
A li'l birdie sitting on sill
Voices names of
Distant hills and flowers
…
"You know ‘em"
Asked,  the moon
"Nope, they are my
Wishful dreams ,
I have treasured…"
 -"Forgotten in chores of surviving
my true companions
grains I collect and few twigs dry
nest I have , yet breath I lost by"
 
"Wish I  spread my  delicate feathers
Flutter and fly
 to the distant crimson horizon
Sunsets , rivers, clouds I shall kiss
abide the trail and return
in minutes…"
 
The birdie sang,
"for another dawn ,
 for another morn
I shall sing melodies
of hope ,I reckon"

-Soumya

The String of Karma


The cycle of life runs
moves  
 re brings forth
 landscape of virtual apprehensions
like old Travellers on crisscross roads;
startled by new endeavours, eyes challenge the existence
gaze upon the-
credibility of uniqueness and fervour
status quo of minds question, in pretence
 on frisson  thoughts of dharma;
O! Time , Isn’t it a compulsion
To be beaded in the decked choker woven by
benign hands
Sequined by our actions
adorn thy flair
 in beguiling life
The string of Karma ties and pulls in all directions…

-Soumya


 

QUARANTINE SONG


In the crimson colours of twilight

as the wind kisses past

a fragrant flower shies

heart fills in redolence

and survives

through the mighty mountains

whence a river flows

The canary sings in quarantine

Hail ! O clouds ! quench the aridness of my world

Hail ! O mighty sun! Shine on the darkness of my earth

Hail! O Heart ! Cherish moments of joy or strife

Hail ! O Soul! Forgive and wish welfare of mankind

Hail ! O Human ! Treasure and Value the Gift of Life

-Soumya

Inwards


Well! Nothing stopped us
The business of being busy 
till we were drop dead
few breaths we skipped
lesser we slept
strangers to ourselves
aliens to our shelter & ceilings …

The shelves smelt same
nostalgia of place
Times Stands still 
until we let the  reminiscences be...

The fragrance of incense sticks
blooms of jasmine
tiny leaves of a home creeper
awaiting to be seen...

A sumptuous dinner table 
an exotic cuisine
love and warmth poured in 
alongwith spices and margarine...

Oh ! What went wrong,
or what went right
we are back to our nests
 birdies in embrace...

Forget not ever
the truth unveiled
Often we walk again 
without bit of realizing....

@soumya 

the sojourn


and neither the travelers of this journey
nor the companions of births can comprehend
palette of colours I am emblazoned with
the saffron of divine
or the luminescent white of tranquility
when the earth is wrapped in muck
so is vision of masses
forgotten is conscience 
buried is compassion
through autumn , or fall
through winter or storms
sailed the fluttering sail
exhausted and torn 
wiped and worn...
may this sojourn end 
to the destined destination...
tired of flapping wings 
the avian wishes for its 
adieu ..
-Soumya 

the silent prayer


when will the season change
how shall the colours transform
wrath of weather
and so the fall
beauty I perceive and accept
grace I acknowledge and realize
yet difficult is the terrain
hold my hand, O my lord !
when storms blur the path
waves erode the rocks
patience ,I silently rear
in my casket of faith
when turbulences prolong
...
©Soumya