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 

Whence thus…


Treading through rough terrains when in the invisible threads of world entangle lost is the soul in the tandem of livelihood and survival.

Whence thus, whence would

breathe I the fragrance of jasmine

play through forests of green firs

watch the golden over peaks Himalayan

tread along sands of flowing rivers

count the stars lying in a desert

dance with waves of an endless ocean

vibrate in tranquilness

under the sapphire

O! mighty one

paths many I traveled

found umpteen chronicles

thousand relics

but thou reside in me

I knew…

whence would then

thou reveal?

 

©Soumya

 

 

 

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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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O’ Raga !


O! Raga

the ancient rhythm of my soul, how cautiously you move

infinite waves rise and fall, dancing on

heartfelt tunes

crashing against the world

tis old traditions .. while weeps the soul in a nook

where art thou!

the blissful Raga

can I compose a melody just for you?

in monsoons

wet you with my verse

or soothe you with a lucid song

in summers?

the serene music of nature

what makes the fall smiling

when deciduous trees wither

the serene music of nature

Tis the rhythm of my soul

O Raga!

that beats on a celestial composition.DSCF4636

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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The pragmatic spirit


the pragmatic spirit
which failed to live as a free bird
pinioned to the ancillary pedestal with bondage,
a pit of darkened sphere
where like a dragon is a holocaust

in the feeble body,
a sunken heart,
fears swing of life
forgoing and abstract
stares at the time pendulum

under the lampshade orange ,
dawned a ray of wisdom
a veneration;
an assimilation of glitches
burns the scared pyre
illuminating the inner luminescence

Life’s envoi


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sultry days, sleepless nights,
sweats the mind in deep agony,
in midst of a dream, I awake to the noise,
that rattles the river flowing serene.
haphazardly, drawn lines ,
like thoughts scribbling inside,
confounds the resting soul
in restlessness, herein I pine.
the burning gulmohar resplendent
high on the branch,
beneath craves a hand,
to touch the fiery petal, afar.on blank pages, moves the hand,
trying to touch and figure
the unwritten notes of a
heart
invisible in life’s envoi !

Timeless !


like the countless stars of a night sky
as the endless tides of the ocean nearby
like the fragrance of flower ,felt and unseen…
the river which endlessly flows …throughout
summer, winter or spring,
as the ceaseless pulsating beats of a heart
under the constant blueness of sky
on  greenery of the land
dwells the eternal , inimitable
treasured thought…
in depths of soul, immortal
lives the love timeless… like God!
photocredit:www.bandagedear.com
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Truth of Life


TRUTH OF LIFE
 

It’s the truth of life,what we crave for is lost ,
like the golden particles of sand,
that slide between the fingers,
even from a tight fist…
what we cannot hold ,
is the truth of time.

That which flows like a stream
open, unended, unclosed,
incessant,
like the love of a pure heart
unselfish, uncanny, selfless..

Beyond this altruistic reality
is nothing but a mirage,
world of images and fantasies
ready to get crushed by folds of time…
illusions many,
how much we wary
breaks the mirror of our whimsies
in broad daylight.

.

 Photocredit:www.terragalleria.com

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