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