Like a bohemian she moved to places
A nomad at heart
as a bird in sky
swirling the colourful skirt of aspirations
paints down every town red and and streaks of turquoise
hadn’t the cuckoo perched every branch
hiding from the limelight
beneath the vast azure she vanishes
as a star during daylight
what if the colours create a motif
of a saga in humble words
she runs behind the tall corridors
where sleeps since years a history epical…
do not dissect the words or rhyme
forget to decipher or analyze
her pastels sing
her trinkets dance
and voice charms
faraway the bohemian lives
away from the world in a realm of dreams
moving under thousand suns
While the swindler burnt my cheeks with
its sumptuous golden glow
I changed sides back and forth
for a while I was in shade
hugging memories sheltered the autumn skin
while the seasons played
The silken locks refused to listen
falling like cascade disturbed the rhythm
the song of past struck
few strings in galore
the beats struck the chord
and music echoed.
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
the walk of this journey
We flames of divine
born as two souls
at distant miles
in the lone fire of love.
under the expanse of colours
where breathes life due to HIS desire
infinitesimal are such glimpses
whence overwhelmed is the atmosphere
yearns to express the soul
often losing words as eyes trickle few pearls
to compensate the mute emotion
away from the worldly plays
in silence cries the soul craving for eternity
The quest continues forever…
The Rainy season- A random musing
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.
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
your words pierced every vein
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.