May be,
I should have been scholarly
to break each atom of my brain
to know about paranormals
the most uncomfortable antonyms
third Eye.
illiterate me..
I knew only one...
Shiva…
The one with third eye on his forehead
direct one… fire brand..
Antonyms not known
An eye to slice life ordinary,
Wild.. and for what????
Yes! It is beyond the reach of encyclopedias
and reference registers.
My brain nerves tanned on sunrays
my oceans overhauled
and my songs lost many a spring
Rain of May...... 
struggles on crossroads of mystic summer riddles
Beyond paranormals
Antonyms
Universal Eye of destiny..
Illiterate me...
Let me learn my first alphabet...

Roof of the World

listen...

Thimphu

round the summit

talk about bilateral borders

Siachen, Kashmir

1962 Invasions, Kargil

Dhaka, cross border conflicts..

Beautiful Tibet!!!.

safeguard the eighth peril

Afghanistan

Rest share unfriendly chains

All around their respective lines

Out of Control…

From Yarlung river valley

to invasions

you stand there

as roof of the world

breath on Mount Kailash,

flow on Bramhaputra

Listen…

edit peace pacts

on your beautiful landscape

Saarc; wake up, inhale fresh air..

In Manasarovar..

In Mount Everest…

You are  cowherd…..!!
not  a king…. Yadhav,
consortium of Kings declared…
It is not new …
World was like that
For ages....
Well within the boundary
Walls existed
Divisions, brands, clones
Lacoste, classic forms
ultimate labels
Paris to Jaipur..
Himalayas to Atlantic
from continents to sub continents.
Oceans, Hills, Sky, Horizons
fundamentals;
formidable ones beyond brands
Rest.. captioned on ink plates
golden placards….!!
Palaces to huts
salt – same… melts to taste
Dandi.. brand of Salt...
Designer of destiny
chosen brand from childhood
I belong to you..
Krishna -Yadhav- Cowherd..
Classic Brand…

Nothing to motivate them
in Indian Ocean, in confluence..
white sand, sea shells
sun rise, sun set
diamond nose ring..
but still they hide behind;
unwilling to back out
from one orange field
and flowers of Autumn;
In Copenhagen pullovers
they hide near spring,
collect droplets in stern faces
to write anatomy of dissection
Nothing for them in music scales
but standstill from behind
they place their tea mugs
in window sills and listen
through transparent satin curtains
to write about jazzy rocks
and  fragrance of coffee
Nothing to charm them in Himalayas
as if it is mission 2010
Let me write about JAXA's Ikaros
Space Yacht,
or about ISRO's next Chandrayan...

Survived?
Exhausted???
Endangered phoenix
Jesus, Budha,
From fire to wooden crosses
Is there a way…
Certainly… you write
Daily… one column…
for poems 
to conflict of leagues..
as token of cut motions
sprinkled on pepper and salt…
delicious... on peanut butter of love
for brains…not for hearts
those plastic ones
nonbiodegradable
In garden of organic manure
latin a blend of chemicals
From summer hills
have you not seen today’s rain?
Rain of cloud-cuts..…
On my roof garden...

How can it be?
that is in last winter
I asked this question
several times
to one alien world of strangers
A season answered
shedding flowers and dry leaves
And in autumn nights
Earth turned orange in my eyes
A world arrived near flag post table
selling Hague like mementoes
Mystic poets-sages
on their battle to bring back
legends wrote in history books
Smokeless fire…
Season of flowers…

From the rearview images
of ink prints spread across
I find this lightening and tremors
In between there this fire
to ignite my tiny brass lamps;
sparkling fresh light
from breaking clouds...
from streams of mountains
towards ocean
I walked barefoot
Earth fragranced
all around on spring
those ink sheets radiate reflections
of seasons….
and in that rain of spring
I stand astonished….
Beyond words…

A kite…
not for me ....
to fly above Afghan perils....
In bright fortunes of August
We made kites on feather light papers
And they scaled the seasoned sky
Green, orange, white
We ran behind......
Not for to settle scores on a board,
Certainly not to rejoice a fall;
but to celebrate Onam.
And my orange kites not reached
too high for any one look upon
but balanced, scaled  near horizon
near the settling sun….

Where did that come?
That ink mark of ‘caution’
From conscience...?
Or from the dagger that ruptured
one precious diamond to ruins
It is not easy to caution disasters
on ink marks…….
Whirls, floods, rains, cloud ash
Volcanoes, hurricanes
Listen the heart beats
of Pearl Harbor, Hiroshima,
World Wars...
Haiti, Iceland, Tibet, Indonesia
Twin Towers…
Richter Scales.
Ocean of pacific....
Confluence of rivers…
Continents, Subcontinents…
It happens…
Like life and death..
like day and night..
Like eclipses, big bang,
Encircled on destiny's chart.
Listen to conscience …
and in blue…paint not oceans and skies
divine..natural that hue..
hue of one great incarnation.
An incarnation...one era…. flute….

My tears have frozen as pearls in one seashell
In one cape one shining diamond nose ring
Like in one magnet pulled the truth
those pearls meditate in one fearless rock cave.
Chariot holders…..
Provoke not my silent words in loud thuds.
Peerless.......
let them meditate in sea shell
away from the agony of ink marks,
away from the planetary tint eyes
and waves across the oceans…
Peerless certainly my words
with no cheerleaders....
but how did you know????
You followed…...
in scales uneven…. 
in masks…..
Only the soul knows how to sing…..

I have gone behind truth
Trained before specialists
Like an attempt for Olympics
Juan died
Former President
Memory of humans short
For him.....
A tiny column...
Away from break storms
a few focus their hearts
towards Athens,
Olive branches,
Peace mementoes…
Apart from the fire in that torch
New champions emerge….
And truth!!!!!
To be precise
A precious box of golden alphabets
See it from far like stars and moonlight
Never go behind.. sting not
It is true….
It burdens my soul…
you listen…
I think…
I should have gone to one
Therapeutic sanctuary
for meditation instead.....

In words
It is not easy to explain
near the intensive care unit
life and death fight there
along side artificial support systems
and I can tell you..
no one prays there for disasters
In cold corridors
only silence speaks
And that is where life teaches
Lessons in multitudes
But when the outer world roars
chains you from behind
fire and smoke unite
to cause explosions
And near ICU
all colors vanish.....
I know, I stood there....
Not once, but twice…....
I know.... it is not easy.....
It is painful....

I thought I roll up
the whole world in one song,
the one resonates on meridians...
but it is broken
in Dantewada, Tibet, Iraq, Israel, Palestine
and my song...
I sliced it in uneven modules
packed it and stored in my heart
And he sits and listens
The one holds a flute
Sings along……..
"This moment of sorrow will go away…"

Have you seen hell?
Yes.........
I have seen it much before
with my eyes wide open
A place ....
There the hammers hit you
straight on your forehead
until you bleed
and on the  wounds
they splash pirnt ink
blend of chemicals.....
You get chiseled
and they transport you to a port
you love not to dream.....
its wildness
the chase, haunt, humiliation...
torment of its kind...
I have seen it,
day and night.....
and from  the wounds
I drained my blood,emotions, pride,
I have faced it, challenged
alone - Solo
with one single flute...
take in hand that flute
and see the difference
that heals all wounds.
of  hells and hammers.....

There this sea in front
quiet, voiceless…
and in seashells a song dies
In synopsis of stolen
text books
Life charts its endless thesis
In certain beginning
And in uncertain ends
Until the last breath
In forgotten pages,
In record registers of past
Life standstill
Silence, the science of known.…
Speech its mystic forbearer…

In chosen numbers
Is there a grain ?
Devastated……
Not even one grain I lift
Weightless..
Helpless ….
I stand frozen beyond numbers….
My soul lost its spark long ago
on negative images
in prints..black and white
And this thick darkness engulfs
but a force drives me …
Unknown even to me
a flute.....
nectar drops…
and
Eugenia Racemosa

If  I form a coffin for words
there my silence perish
in golden layers...
there I die eventually...
breathless...
and my unfinished past
find no asylum...no shelter...
no salvation.....
If I build a coffin for words...
there in that sea of tempest
I stand on a rock
and that rock meditates
in silence....
like a sage......

I think this world has turned
into a total crazy crystal
where I  see its wild glares
all around....
from my tiny room
through the keywords
of  Pentium 4 ..
Silence termed as arrogance
and speech a violation
where do i stop
in one breaking point
Let me go back to Tagore
Gitanjali......

I will soon turn as Arctic
or Antarctic...
one continent of Ice Blocks
and my future I bury there...
Find me a way to go
from this glass box of destiny..
See that GSLV of indigenous
cryogenic engine failed
in Bay of Bengal,
Archaeologist
of  the next century
find my buried ruins
from layers of Ice Blocks
And you wait there
if you can carry forward
the burden of this century
to the next...

A part of this earth
shattered in China
and a storm hit on our neighbor's land
Rain arrived to cool the summer heat
and disasters....
In debris of Afghan caves
new lines emerged like a crossword puzzle
and in skies clouds settled
where bridges collapsed
In lightening,  thunder
A season changed..

I close my eyes
It has seen the mild, wild, middle
and the radiant riddle
I close my senses
the emancipation,
dictionary of proverbs
holograms, quintessence
Life a museum
of artifacts…..
And my strings
hold one instrument
Veena

Is it that this earth
a moving river
to flow like Krithamala
from a hill like a long line
enveloping forests
Where this Sahara
a desert which holds
the breath of yellow sand
and where this green earth
a divide on parallels
and that train crushed all leaves
flowers, dreams and derailed
over a bridge…
Ashtamuti

I lost a part of me
In a world of unfriendly seasons;
In summer
From my restricted world
I find words
Not musical but strange
Like moulds of industrial machines
And from one artificial life support
A season called me from earth
to life
Monsoon…
Rain of June

In south
from Marina to Golden Beach
Rain travels on clouds, cyclones
towards garden
In 740 square kilometers
above 3000 ft from sea level
Summer in 37 degrees..
Rain a dream of June
and for flowers
Jacaranda, Gulmohar, Mayflower....
Garden sleeps in summer

I chose my destiny,
a ladder on broken ridges
I see no escalators to lift me
but I can climb
with less technical faults
in slow footsteps,
and go up to moon..
238,857 miles;
not a distance in supersonic era..
Inspiration -Apollo 11

There is ample of time in this earth
for you to leave
where in this station train is late;
As usual,
That tunnel of darkness exists in between
where you find no arch lights but oil lamps
to remind you that no one waits
with begging bowls
to receive droplets of your mercy.

Is it me I see in that Mirror?
Or a reflection?
That one
from the assorted table
Lies in thousand miles away
In millions, from time to time
On changed identities
It reappears- Reflections
Mirror images
Destined…
And you find not me or one stone.
In covered  stone pockets
of earthen layers
I planted Ocimum Sanctum

Where I lost senses
the sixth one I search
the uncommon
the unfamiliar
not a common enigma
a sense layered on dust
You did not have one
that sense of the common
so question not unfavorables
I search for the uncommon
the Sixth one
E.S.P
Extra Sensory Perception

Those stinging arrows were lethal
more severe those blows
from the self possessed coffins
nailed on beliefs of eras not known.
Both danced on my mortal remains
to remind me in my mornings
that change is not a word they love
Present, a gift of the Past.....
wrapped on blocks of ruins
Repugnance, Curses, blows
Justice a blind scale..
hangs above like a sword....

X FACTOR

Alchemy of X
twenty fourth letter- Alphabet - X 
Number 10 in Roman scales
Number of Diego Armando Maradona
and his hand gloved goal  
Nadia's perfect Gymnastic 10
X  Ray -Electro magnetic radiation
Of short wavelength
Can pass through opaque hearts
How many X tensions in your synthetic heart
How many Xs
Alchemy of X - Xylophone

I was honest,
loyal to my mind
which traveled hand in hand
from Sabarmati to Dandi
up to the shores of Arabian Sea
to find salt
From earthen stations fired Agni,
traveled in space shuttle
like an astronaut
to find nothing but truth;
and I find it, Truth! flavour of salt
Incredible