Hidden Divinity
I have been waking up each midnight,
each dawn, at the end of each passing hour
to see the squabble between darkness and light
resulting in red rays as blood of a celestial war at twilight.
The morning with its cool breathe makes us
oblivious to sounds that clatter like evocative dreams
and then sweeps us to silkiness in a land and sky
where multicoloured shrouds betray our keen vision.
“Where from you come and whither you hide?
Why don’t you keep us away from divinity?”
My questions seem to scatter with sunrays
or get lost in profound darkness;
barking war dogs misguide us,
chase us towards sleep and then comes
another night, when fright too has been dictated
not to disturb us, while the evil and Gods fight
to show us another peaceable day.
My mysticism must be of the lowest order;
the perpetuity of heavens extends far beyond
the darkness when I howl like a werewolf in pain.
My Chained Faith
The far-flung whistle of the colliery
and of the Calcutta-mail
calls me every day after dinner.
The train’s shrill echo and
rhythmic melody of wheels
form a sublime image of
the girl out of my dreams,
waving and smiling;
screaming and crying;
standing and waiting
just for me amidst gasses,
trees and hedges that wave
in solitude and hope.
The curvature of the lopsided land
plays hide and seek along with
the clouds and moon blurring realism.
My belief is incurable and so is
the facade of pleasure that I show
while I follow compellingly,
the whistle of the colliery.
My faith lies in the train,
in the wilderness and
the vaporous figure of my love
while my whims are chained
with famine and society
that may identify me as a mad
once I leave my job and run
into the hazy backwoods.
The Solitary Bench
A forlorn bench, putrid with age
sits amongst vibrant foliage like
a school boy waiting for his first love.
The coarse rustle of
ruling ‘Gulmohar’ flowers tries
to sway him in congenial talks.
His silence forces the air
to rub them off his body;
let him remain lonely
for the guest deserves to stick
to his mad wishes.
The figure that he is longing for
runs away from him
with each day’s dying in the
ever flowing tide of time.
Still, hope says no, wishes say yes
and the everyday falling flowers
quarrel with the dry leaves
riding upon withered braches,
to impress his soul and the day ends
with the bench shaking them off
with the passing air.
He sits for one and will not break
till she comes running and sits on him
just like the day decades ago,
when these woods used to be a park
and the bench was the friend
of her everyday indolence.
Brooding Of A Bird
The brooding of birds poses
N number of locked doors
where, even supreme philosophy
can find fodder for its growth.
We have time for books and
these scenes are beyond the white pages
with ever accumulating concentration
smearing red with thoughts of continued existence.
Exhibitions can be a way to find them
if we are too busy to find the best
that nature can give us with
its flying creatures.
Lost
The ‘Prairies’ are to be blamed
for the loss of my love…
My affection was tossed above
by the winds, the slave of grasses.
I was puzzled through clear meadows
searching for the letter that was nothing
but a blank paper for her response.
She is lost, her shrill laughs prick my anxiety
for she might be one with snake creepers
entering into the delight of lust.
Her sharp breathes must be of approval
to let loose the creepers over her skin.
The mortal and immortal has left me
on my knees over the place where
numerous such letters beg to be delivered.
Two Worlds
A blue lake captures my soul in its
unmeasured, unimaginable depths
where a new world better than lands
survive drinking immortality.
Howling wolves pierce melancholy
and the dropping leaves stuck with
fever of spring bows down
before the majestic stance
of endless sky and waters.
Echo of unknown sounds emerging
from the interstices of the woods
run wildly, circle around ears
like unquenched souls.
Striking against trunks topless trees
they become one with lingering serenity.
The bridge connecting them to my land
is left broken for years,
perhaps broken by the Gods
and none has dared to swim across
for both worlds gets bewildered
with the laws in either side of the bridge.
