Monday, June 28, 2010

In a way that is distinct
from the draped up blend of colours
the one which stands apart
from the whole union of colours
Black the real, real black
to hold upon a thin frame of lens
to showcase how low the essence
of coal-black
from roads to the valley
in a mask of Kashmir
worth not to write further
and in page numbers
water runs impure
bottled again.
Pure forms you find
in origins of Himalaya
where aroma of herbs natural
earth carry forward
to heal wounds many
In Manasarovar
not very far from the city of snow hills
water flows pure
Water of city for long you hold
cascaded in one bottled page
sealed and that water has forgotten
the alphabets of pure distinct forms….

Sunday, June 20, 2010

I have gone to one sea shore to collect sand soaked
sea shells and my alienated self meditated
in one rocky cave where in my feet
I felt a  sea of unpredicatable waves
and their countless aquatic monologues
from stormy borders to main land of valleys
I walked past the most troubled days of fire blocks
and thunderous clouds
Where in that smoke filled summer
I walked backed to one sea shore near my tiny concert hall
there no musical note spoke about a world so wild
While on my return I captured the first glimpse
of rain and summer’s farewell

Friday, June 18, 2010

APTITUDE

I know I can not shrink a sea in my palm
And if any one claims so I believe not
I know I can listen to one flute from the valley
of my heart and I feel not astonished
if others feel so not
I know I can see seasons change unpredictable
In continents,  sub continents
And for the seven seas and several horizons
if any one says they can shrink
the whole sea in me I write not for them
I feel the sea has formed a resolute seashore
for me to stand upon and no way I renounce
my words to a silence which speaks a language
not known to my sea….

Wednesday, June 9, 2010

Nameless
Is that the song in me sea repeats
and in one one sea shell
I see a river ending namelss
like a lost soul


Pathways
Somewhere in between
I lost my road map
and I found it later hidden
beneath a tumbled hill
away from the valley of green forests
and  I heard the most beautiful flute
of the season from the down hill




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