IMAGES

It is not alphabets or words
I have lost in funeral pyre
but a soft feather like feeling
which I thought genuine
in any day or night to be part
of humans
and in poems
it is beyond my thinking streams
to believe there rivers
flow across giant islands
and subcontinents to sell their own
souls in extreme rapids
It is not speech I lost
that arrived in me like sea
in torrential rains
from mountain peaks
but silence that I have lost
which shattered in pieces
like a crystal flower pot
when thin rectangular
replica of a medium
whispered in morse codes
from corridors of lost conscience
to shatter, dismantle
pillars on which truth tied its flag
and in my primitive soul
I fought a war against me on many
conflicts inner and outer
to let my chains free
and in pyres
I lost not words
but my smile and feelings
to silence
where I waited for rains
torrential to shower
all around me...

RECOLLECTIONS

I am in memory line
of life in block prints
in various forms
in dimensions not even
like in batik
in a way I can walk back
in peace which I lost or thrown
like a glass cup
on which once I filled pearls
poem like words
and in my sea like shell
I search me,
the real one which hides
somewhere in between a sea
and my memory line
and away from realms
where I wandered once
to float a sea,
a sea infinite,
poem like
I am in memory line of Indian Ocean
in its flow, inside me
and in my soul
where I find drought
all of a sudden
but still sea gushes
a pull
and I am into it
sea and memories
I lost not both…..

FRAGMENTS

I transported my life
from a tiny village
to a hill town there my earth
rolled in heights far from
my dreamy seashores
History I learnt from school books
and in optionals
there I worried not
about historical events
in exclamations
as I studied breakthroughs
to merely score marks
But I feel a kind of pain growing
in me now when I read
about Raja of Sandur
and triangles on which brains
mine earth in fragments
for treasures hidden
and in genuine terms
Niyamgiri shows 
Dongria Kondh
Honestly like in any major
towns I know less about
exploited tribes where an India
exists away from the painted,
decorated India and even in that
painted decorated one I see a lot
in hunger and when I stand
away from seas
on one part of this earth
where pain is a layer
a layer people cover on paints
to think less about
the less fortunate
otherwise too
we are divided on fragments
from sea shores to sea shores
from tribes to tribals
mines to mountains….

SEA

Near one T Junction of life
I stopped for a while
To know where to go
Towards a sea shore
Or to one place where people
Gather to suffocate
Conscience in plastic bags
Non biodegradable
Where like in markets
People gather to sell
Hearts in glass boxes
As display items
Where my mind was in
Intensive cold unit
and when people negotiated
life on barters
in T junction
I heard sea like in one whisper
Like in one sea shell
Very close to my heart…

DESIGNS


Yes!
On designer tailored outfits
he shines like a metal fragment
he hides a formula track inside
on which he balances his high end skills,
skills on which he lived his life
in years to have more admires
in accountable numbers
and to find if anything there apart
from the outer glow I climbed
to that mountain flag post
in earthen drapes
to the peak to find 
to my surprise a distorted flag
not designer tailored but hand made
and in lightening and thunder
rain showered all around me
I climbed down calm
to find the same soul near that foothill
rushing towards the same formula track
balancing
to have more admires
to have more glory
is that ultimately your life?

MERIDIAN

Very soon I know this earth
on I live roll back from its cosmic
pathways to tell me a secret
that the only truth I can hold
in my two hands like a lotus flower
is the one emerges
from clear water ponds
in silent dawns of my temple of Gods
in black stones unique
and the fragrance of flowers pure
from the valley of bamboo flutes
and in one far end country
where oceans freeze in forms of ice
I find to my surprise the ultimate meridian
of earth on poles-imaginary
where countries hoist
flags with no feelings of patriotism
and in my flagpost
I placed my tiny tri colour
in orange fire
to love my country more
in pure spirit of patriotism.

EARTHEN

Someone from a hill like pillar
told me to move out
from my destined pathways
where I stood near my fragment
of earth in elements earthen
and I did not know the meaning
of that claim
as I formed no fences around
my dreamy ocean
or blocked rain drops
to flow on my music notes
And if
someone stung, loved or betrayed
this earth with no knowledge
of my soul
I am not answerable to a hill
like pillar
as I find no necessity
to move away from my fragment
of earth where oceans flow
in pure forms
like in one dream……….

NATURAL

Yes,
There is a problem I find
in one Indian river which refuse
to accept that its endless reign
was blocked a few miles
by an unknown
ocean from a fragment
of this sub continental earth
on the day it decided to flow
far away from its natural banks
and from there that river floated
on ink drops in place of pure water,
dried and vanished in one summer
from this earth in mystical form 
to re originate
in one strange flow
far far away from the waters
natural….

RAINDROPS

Long ago in one Monsoon
raindrops rolled
on my feather soft dreams
like droplet of pearls
and in one sea shell I heard
the endless music of Sea
Years ago  in one morning of August
I dreamt of one wild forest
where I encountered dreams
poem like
in formless modules
From the very beginning of my origin
I searched for a word
in nectar
to find it emerging from Kshirasagar
In lotus
In one golden bowl
dream like
And I forgot my silence
to words.

SPECTRUM


All dramas of humans
end in one stage
in climax or in anticlimax
and when I stand and watch
the rhythm in which stages
formed for participants to perform
I wonder for whom this show meant for
Is it designed to show me in specific
or for my earth to reciprocate
And in prestigious flag post
When I find flags not prestigious
I wonder for whom this dramatic show
is it to show me in specific
or to show my ocean how big
a river is
Yes I am going to explode
Until my anger subsides
for all the dramas you staged
around this earth for to swallow
on like a fire ball
Until then watch this earth through
sting fences from behind
as I know you move not
even after I lock away my fences.
pay in liberal terms to ink marks
to publicize money lending
machines……
I remember to watch all shows
for your satisfaction
to make you feel that you won
a nomination for best performance.

IMAGES

Pay for all
In wealth of deceit
Pay
for life
to set right honour
and live for ever
in new pages
In ques they wait
On silent currencies
Pay in modes exchange
for new ones
pay to cremate
assassinated souls
Place new cards
turn, twist
and at the end
pay if possible
to buy a second
from life, from funeral pyre
and Pay for editions
styled on diplomatic tags
pretend friendship
as escape routes
And at the end
pay from the wealth
accumulated
Pay Pay Pay
everything is available
in this country for a price
except pure souls
try not to trade them

ENOUGH

Enough
that is the only word
come out from this earth
in sane alphabets
and that is the only word
a heart burns on fire
can write
a word on fire
that can evaporate water
in thin air
that fire once subsided
to certain measures
but from the sparks
it turns wild
on dramatic waters
and that is too low
for anyone to stand
and in that place
I see water stagnates
far away from its origin...

IMAGES

My face of truth and its vibrations
are in the hands of Almighty
and I know that is the only safe
locker I can place my heartbeats
May be your one sided ink spots
from my birthplace differ
and that prejudice when speaks
of Jesus Christ I surprise
as that God of Christ never
haunted a human or stung
in ink marks but healed
and If they parade a Christ
for selfish ink marks
it is not my concern
as I trade not my conscience
for a piece of paper of fame
that is known to my Lord
and in that sanctum
my lord understands
for what I fought for
and he holds my truth
like a lotus flower
like a lamp reflects light
and on the prejudice of ink marks
that light reflect not

MANIFESTATIONS

There in a second I find not a day
but in a day I find several seconds
like heartbeats
all combined in moulds
like a fire engine wheel
round
like a wall clock in twelve
captures noon and night
in different formats
where a year brings
three sixty five days
divided on twelve equal hours,
mirror images of light and shadow
and in rain
I fill my heart in pearl like drops
where I find no day or night
but a horizon
illuminates on life like light...

IMAGES

 

When I have heard the sound

of a stream from the back drops
of my Ocean I thought for a while
what the uproar is all about
in my limited seashore
in an infinite horizon
and to my surprise that river
turned from point to point
on pathways avoiding  rock clusters
and whirs as in escape modes
and when I turned around
from my ocean shores
I find branches of the same
river from unfriendly banks
flowing even now
in my ocean with no righteous protocol
with endless outbursts in hidden format
to cover my ocean in clouds
and I wonder
where can I hide my ocean
from a river's rear view images.....

SANCTUM

I feel happy that I did not stand
in that crowded sanctum
waiting for bouquets
of ripened fruits from
heaven’s garden
and there the supreme source
of that heaven knows
from the heart of the matter
that my soul different
not wait in sanctum’s door
disappointed for not receiving
a grain of sand in sea shores
infinite..
there from the opening doors
of heaven Lord Supreme
anticipate not my soul’s presence
in long ques of heaven’s distribution
counters
but expects me near a chamber
where a reed blends 
soft music
like my heartbeat......

RAINDROPS

When was the last time seasons
changed in this earth
for me
 that in one cold life support unit,
in one corridor
on the day year ended
on fragments of cold clouds
and from there
I find no change in any seasons
and that is the only change
on which I stood numb
and from there if any one changed
or seasons changed it surprised me not
as that is the written alphabets
of this world in general
and for more specific
that is what people are formed of
and in one conch shell resonated
Pranav collectively pulled back
all sorrows there a season
again changed from winter
to summer and to monsoon...
From rain drops
I plucked a few notes
to play on my musical instrument.....

IMAGES

I wandered
all around near seven seas
and ten horizons
to find where earth
hides its magnetic halo
But in one hill, ink marked
on crushed  trees
shadowed around sunlight
I found an earth
not round but strange
beyond the imaginary visions
of a sky roof to portrait
in frames of gold
from there I walked in battlefields
with no arms or army
but with only a bamboo plank
and at the end I find
a spark
magnetic halo,
circled radiance,
all combined
in one  feather soft dream
poem like…

SILENT MODE

Yes!!

I was in silence once

In one earthen pitcher

like in one shell

And at that point

A cluster followed me

Like shadows of a giant rain tree

to break

to slice

to chisel

my Silence…

and from the very form of earth

I broke that on a rock

splashing waters
all around

on the same rock of one confluence

once I meditated

and now when I try to collect

those splinters sharp

to place back in silent mode

they refuse to go back

to its origin in style and shape

a kind of refusal

an encounter

I face now with the broken

splinters of silence

Eventually from the same earth

those fragments turned around me as speech

beyond the control of my earthen decanter

in silent modes....

SONGS ETERNAL

Love of one past!!!
Let me ask you
Why do you paint present
on ink drop images
of the ones not connected to you
in unknown plateaus
of history journals
and chronicles of life
they rebel not for you
And the only one I connect
in my conscience
stands there very close to my heart
A tiny one
who holds my pure soul
my mirror image
Why not you fight with
that flute of my heart
Why not you distinguish
the very rhythm of my eternal songs..

FATE OF A KIND

I can see like the way he looks at you
in clear forms...
and it is certain
when fresh currency notes not refined
whisper in hands and power opens
its taste buds,
from borders a few sneaks
in this earth
 in  alphabets borrowed
from Wanli Changcheng
with no prior orders
and there we find a few wait
in hurry to sit on chairs offered
as if it is the only show case
available in this world
let that show go on
and we, me and my little krishna
watch it as the only joke
right now available for us to watch.....
and you flow like that forever
in alphabets unknown
ten thousand miles and more
away from conscience
that is also fate
fate of a kind.....

TIDAL

Near the thin borders
of past and present
I have seen an earth
Earth not belonged to intruders of
tricolor in orange fire
And in borders I find countries
enveloped on mountain mist
as imposters who relish on snow feast
And near that tricolor flag post
Who stands, who conspires
Not a wind, not a nightingale
Not the magnetic halo of earth
not an ocean...
can you find those hands..
beholders of ego
an element
not in musical form
but in tidal form
whose is that?????

UNHEARD

 

An expressive word I need
to tell straight
from the topmost point of my sky
not to curtain mind
but to frill the heart on laces
soft but that word no one understands
the one pierces, strong ones
like a chisel on wood
like the sharp point of arrow
that too no one understands
let that be
 face of the fate
and not me there eyes
in multi millions watch day and light,
night and darkness
if you understand those eyes
take a line of caution
at least to climb the pillar
in slow steps
in rhythm unheard….
whisper like

MIRROR IMAGES

I thought I have reached
one empty sea shore alone
after the whirl waves receded
numb or bewildered ?
orange fire spreads
all around  my tri colour
where horizon takes in hand
my dreams
but in August flowers
I breeze not freedom
but fences
not of thorns but of brain cells
rotate in vicious circles.
In vast sea shores I gaze
at a reflection in horizon 
through the perils of sun set
and I find a mirror image
river like
love and torment in one frame
like tree and its shadow
how can it be
ordeals…
that is life to believe
from pinnacles..
how can one stumble
stumble in that fashion????

WANLI CHANGCHENG

Let me tell you
There now you stand
in ten thousand long miles
in length
away from conscience
like in length
near Wanli Changcheng
from Shanhaiguan in the east to Lop Nur
long fortifications built
in seasons
spring and autumn
in stones and earthen soil
as sentinels
to guard intruders
from all around
as emblems emperors imprinted
as crowns
in earthen form in several miles
in specific; name it as Qin Shi Huang
to enlighten history books
of an era before Christ.
It began
all around in boundaries
like fences of the world
chains….

FLUTE

Years ago
in one era  fragranced on chandan
I have seen earth
like one orange form
in your tiny mouth
rotating like in its orbit
and when I hear your flute
from the valleys
in an era where islands
form fences around
I know where my songs
are hidden
and in my mist filled dawns
I waited for raindrops
from the divides of sky
like in monsoon….

RAIN DROPS

Yes, today I have heard

from my heart a song
a song of a nightingale
which I longed for in monsoon
and in my featherlike mystic dawns
earth arrived near horizon
holding a bright brass lamp
in orange fire
and in my dreams
words draped me
near one ocean shore
poem like…
while rain drops played
on the strings of my Veena

KNOWN TO UNKNOWN

I have seen a sea

known to all from its very roar

to the unknown wild

both were silent in dawns
and from there changed

its forms known to unknown

From cloudburst floods

to one stream

I have seen nature

Known and unknown

in me and in others

In pendulums I have heard

tick sound of seconds

in needles from one known zone

to unknown

even in front of my sea

I see now no waves
but only a soft breeze

and a few clouds

in unknown forms….

CHANDAN

Is there a cave
in that highest mountain
to hide away all your errors
from heaven’s progress charts
Is there a cloud you find
Near horizon to hide your inkmarks
far far away from a sea wind
And can you tell me a place
In which a silence hides its alphabets of truth
in strange translators
and blocks speech to open up
Let me think
of the listless forms appear from planets
Unknown in invisible drapes
And I find now all answers
in Sirium Myrtifolium
fragrance....
from that sanctum, very close
to my heartbeats like in one flute

MY FLUTE IS NOT FOR SALE

Let me tell you
I have stopped that one too
From today
I watched him- Paper boy
an astonished soul
for sure I  need not see them again
-exclusives in front lines
-tweets biased in 180 degrees
-buttered loafs
-paid news surfs
-promotional campaigns
I stopped that one too
In express speed
Otherwise too it was  a practice
not a habit
From today
I am free of that ink too
And happy..... you laugh
I am not crazy like you..
to pay donations to chemical sheets
to place my flute for  a sale

My priced possession
My bamboo flute is not for sale....

YOU REMIND ME OF CAMILLA

You remind me of Camilla
The one who chased an earthen
Princess from this universe
Through the tunnels of life
Yes you are like Camilla
Not the princess but only Duchess
And that princess was the one
People loved
People, I want to underline
Not  paparazzi
You resemble too Camilla
artificial
Not the natural one
And people of this world
Loved that Princess
Even when you tied around
the neck of that prince…

DESTINATION

Yes!
from the sophisticated
trial rooms of life
to my surprise I find
minds, brain graph maps
decorated on love capsules
not pure
but like in a designer stage
oval shaped
for players to enact
emotionless emotions
and when that past reminds
me like a mountain
flagpost of  present
and forces me to go
back to my ocean's seashore
in intermissions
how can I stop halfway
to my destination
to the ultimate orange earth
of my dreams….

IMAGES

There an image

as reflection of my mind I see
not submissive
to the streams which flow
reverse in negatives
My vision not a stream
but the roar of an ocean
and I was into it
from my birth
but withstood waves unforeseen
and souls traverse oceans
need no platform
for promotion
as the universe spreads across
for them in horizon
in orange fire
to the infinite end….

APRIL RAINS

Long ago in one April
I longed for summer rains
but from Pearl Harbor
a world moved in front of me
divided in two segments
from a poem like seashell
And in one August
Hiroshima reminded me
of the innocent heartbeats
broken....
not poem like.........
but like a fire wall of disaster
and ink drops began to fall
collectively like in torrential rains
Again in April
day and night stood equal
on  meridians of earth
and away from the noisy  harbors
I walked towards my origin

on one tilted seashore

but to my surprise

words arrived from horizons
in orange drapes
in earthen forms

and I felt no lonelyness
in that shore..

   NUCLEUS

It is on the same earth I placed
my first alphabets and over and again
I find not any difference
other than the sophisticated research labs
firing test missiles towards space
unknown from their experimental brains
to find more about this universe
and planets circling
in and out of the magnetic halos
of earth away from the focal point
of its gravity
and in my heart's centre point
I find a flute on which no sophisticated
brain labs could place a microchip
to map graphic lines 
and that centre point
I hide my heartbeats….

ULTIMATE POINT

  

 

It is true from ink marks to infinite horizon

I searched alone in a mind curious

to know about the ultimate point
where sorrows cease
to capture its penultimate rhythm
And on the day I found a light bright
enough for my soul to sparkle
I forgot about clouds and sunset
and all waters flown around me in rivers
And very close to my origin in one seashore
I sat and a listened a song
played on the strings of my veena
and in night I slept right
on my amber dreams
and earth turned around
me in orange fire
where all sorrows
withered weightless
like soft feathers..

ESSENTIALS

There is a dilemma
Uncommon to thinking streams
But there is one
Beyond the brain graphs to map
That flows
flows endlessly from a mountain peak
And there is a way to pull it back
but the caves of mountain hesitates
and allow it to flow all around  this earth
like as it is a rewarded gift
and in the backyard of their showfield
they batter, scatter their already clobbered minds
in sour bitter blends
and Krishna there you give me fresh
tasty butter in earthen pots from your heart
and I know you know them better than me
and how can they batter my heart
when you hold it in your safe hands

I HATE YOU THERE

Let me tell you
I don’t like you looking at me
through my back door
I hate it
I hate your third eye
I hate it
When I wake up in a fresh dawn
I don’t like you there
Staring at me
When I speak
I hate you hearing it
When I write or read
I hate you seeing
I hate the very mean look of you
I hate even to think
that I have known about you
I hate even to think
that I called some one mean
a friend
And you stinger,
traitor, betrayer
Why don’t you Go with that third eye
I hate that hanging above me
And I hate to even remember
about you and remind you about it
and I know there is an eye
beyond third eyes
watch you and there you can not
play your secret games
or install third eyes
Go for ever from the vicinity
of my words and my world…

OCEANIC

Let me tell you
may be
you think it is an achievement
or contribution to humanity
that greed chased many
and even your honor
but still you were behind
another's honor to damn
and have you gained anything
No........................
you damned your honor
and this earth's
and in hand distributed shame
through your loyal ink marks
and celebrate
for distributing shame and dishonor
to ocean shores and nation
it is time
time to celebrate
for life long achievement
when past haunts this earth
from your secret paid up chambers
my ocean reminds you of  present
the present on which this ocean loves
to flow...

STAGE PERFORMANCES

Yes!!!
this is the beginning point
to start afresh to remember
in broad day light
that each and every breath
of a mean man remain mean
for ever even in the most
sophisticated platform of life
and from oceans I can see
that river conspiring
in ink prints
for the final stage show
and there no surprise left in this earth
to think how efficiently that one enacts
each and every move
like a drama
for the third consecutive season...

FLAG POST

You want an escape
And a coverage
In colour prints, in mementoes
for lifetime achievement
in flagposts
And what about the life long
humiliation you caused
for a soul
In your honorary adventures
and we sit here and cherish
all that in glass cases
in constituent intermissions
and in books
you publish your statistical
datas of stings and tortures
a flag I will place against that post
for you near that bookshelf in black
like your black spotted
disintegrated brain cells….

KING OF HASTINPUR

Yes,
there in the assembly he fell
the great king of deceit
the great manipulator
the one stings and traumatizes
lives of others for a price
and there was this silence
for a while in that assembly hall
and then from the flute
a sound arrived
that ordered
laugh laugh at that king
laugh aloud at that king of Hastinpur

RANGOLI

Yes, that is the place
I draw my lines specific
In Rangoli designs,
In front of my village home
where jasmines flowered
and kites floated beyond clouds
In backyard
through the hollows of time
seconds danced on pendulums
for a primitive lie
and in my rangoli designs
I formed a Krishna,
a bamboo flute
a thulasi lamp
.

TRANSFORMATION

On the moving chariot of July
monsoon fills rain drops
in my feather soft dreams;
those intimidating shadows
of the past moved away
from my very own  green valley
in smoke filled clouds
with no trace of remorse
While I waited near that bamboo forest
to listen one flute,
horizon painted
a portrait in gilded autumn
I turned all over again
into one combined musical note
a fragment of earth..

UNCHANGEBLE

There a sea roars in front of me
in formidable rhythm
with no change
from the day I wrote my first
alphabet
I searched for one like that
the unchangeable,
predominant ones,
black stone deities
bamboo flutes
sky, infinite horizon
Rest all changed
in periodic intermissions
like day and night
like cloudy shadows
And from my very origin
I see in front the same sea
from sea shore to seashore
to the ultimate horizon
with no change to mark upon….