Saturday, September 1, 2012

Silly girl

Well the little girl has grown,
And you say she has no grace,
And all through she has known-
What waste of a pretty face!

She says-
"I guess I can't be a lady,
I'll always be a child.
A puppy dog chasing rainbows,
Sketched in azure skies"

She's a grown up and yet,
she wishes deep inside-
that the magic would save her
like her childhood lullaby.

She fears for magic being killed in a glance,
brain over heart unlike romance
of a Victorian novel she last unfurled...
Well, who cares for it in a grown ups' world.

And 'this' world is kind to remind her that-
life's not like the novels she read.
And her sister says she's stuffed her head
full of silly love bees!

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Ginger Ale (a song)



Love!
It lasts just two days...
It haunts you and keeps you from your ways.
And then it gets too much and it’s over,
and you’re back to being jolly and gay.

Mama!
She packed me off to school today...
Told me to keep all the guys away.
There was a cute one making eyes at me,
mama we kids, we just gonna play!


Some 
 last a week some an hour to a day,

chicks they come and go fast I say!
Shame to cry for one hey nay nay,

life’s a fest so just celebrate.

Wednesday, November 9, 2011

The Joy of Free Falling

I've shared this experience before, with people having dance as a common interest-

The weather was so good this morning, that I felt like dancing and I fell at the first turn! Not the first time for me. I got a painful bruise; but somehow I feel like laughing everytime I fall, even if it hurts. May be it's because falling reminds me of a carefree childhood- learning to walk for the first time, riding a bicycle, playing. We've all had our fair share of bruises. And we'd proudly show those off to our friends, boasting of surviving some grand accident. Growing up, we encounter falls and risings, making mistakes and learning from those mistakes. Yes we cried, but next minute forgot it ever happened and never gave up.

But once we learn those elementary things and get used to the world around, slowly, we become cautious as we forget how falling feels-  Be it physical or metaphorical. And since the fear of a thing comes from not knowing it, we become more and more scared of it, and stop trying new things or taking risks in our lives.Worse, we learn to complain if we get bruises.

And slowly life becomes mundane. To fill that void we start filling it with stuff money could buy but don't really need and so we become materialistic.

Our society, our culture expects us to be graceful as a grown up. So no more climbing trees, or dancing in the streets, or shouting at the top of our lungs, or skipping the steps on the stairs and no more the joys of free falling. To experience these, we need to make special provisions, but it can't be at the spur of the moment. Whenever and wherever we want. We learn to practice restraint, be responsible, disciplined.

But do we really want to be a conformist to these norms or live our limited time on our own terms?

What would you choose, would you let go of those innocent impulses or would you choose to let go and experience that free fall?

The Industrial Revolution


'Cause existence must have a proof,
so we produce and reproduce.

Our love must have a face
so even with no space
and no meaning to keep
production must still increase.

Philosophers lament this age.
Who? Are they still part of human race?

One day and we already are
being suffocated at this hour.
Our love must have a proof
so I must reproduce a you.
I am a real misery,
so we must reproduce a me.

Supervisor says he wants result,
disguised religion follows only one cult-
where living are muted and undead shriek
real WMD was already used and sheathed,
with spirit dead the conflict ceased.
They chant- Produce and reproduce
so we produce and reproduce

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Big Question


Little honey bee at the honeycomb,
just a day out of her mother's womb.
Sees the world wide eyed brimming with disbelief-
"Where have I landed?", "Its called a mulberry leaf".
she turned her inverted pyramid head
to spot the source from where the voice led.

Wrinkled wriggly thing she sees-
"Is this some rotten vine?" says she.
"A who not a what if you please
I'm an earthworm miss"- offended he speaks.

"But where are your eyes and where is your nose?"
"I'm the one who can't see and yet knows
more about the world and though with these scales I look old
I just turned two this spring let you be told.
I don't need a nose I don't need no seeing,
I'm a  guy and a gal, a spectacular being."

The little bee is amazed but as she's so little,
everything is a wonder and her interests are fickle.
She soon turns her head and asks Mr. worm-
"Whats that lovely blue thing with black center and patterns like tricorn?"

" 'Tis a yellow flower and no black center to see!
There's no pattern! It's a  simple yellow stupid bee!"
Bee thinks him no wiser for such a retort,
but for his prerogative- an earlier birth, she stifles her snort.

And he tells her not to be so fickle as is she,
"To live she should follow her heart and let focus be the key."
"Does he always follow his heart", asks she?
"Oh why not, though I have five of them you see!"

Brimming with questions like always are little babes-
What is it that her new friend loves and what does he hate?
"Oh I love the smell of the earth and its delicacy,
while the thing that I hate the most has to be hypocrisy!"

"Is there a much larger life out there somewhere across?
Beyond the velvet bed beyond that sheet of moss?"
and he says it's all a propaganda- the mores and ethos,
just made up stuff to prevent chaos.

"Who's a propaganda?" asks the bee baby.
"Ah If you knew that one you would go crazy,
so step aside now and let me dig some earth",
earthworm turned his head and resumed his work.
By noon became a bird's meal for what he was worth.

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

Time Traveller

We know the travel of space
n cross it at our pace
'Tis time we can't hold,
can't control
feel it pass by
Old wise wizard stands high

In the wilderness sometimes you meet some hosts
By looks illiterate those city dwellers boast
Their Teacher is nature itself
and what we don't know they can tell

By fireside under starry night
When all cept the wind is quite
They speak of Time traveller- the learned one
Who spoke matters of science and of faith he spake none;
lost his loved ones once to one of time's pun

Old wizard turned them into memories
He held them long,
refused to move on
N could never set them free

Time tried to heal his wound
but he swore to conquer him soon
"if he could travel faster than light
Victory will be on his side"

And He worked day and night
by the burning lamp's side
calculating always in thoughts so deep
that he knew no sleep n would forget to eat
He ignored all life happening around him
N then one day life stopped happening for him

And he didn't realise but he'd travelled time!

They say the mind travels faster than light or time
that's how dreams and memories we find

fast forward in time chasing dreams
or living in past chasing shadows
n smwhr between it all we let the present go

All this they tell of our generous hosts
who told us this tale of time traveller's ghost

Tuesday, August 31, 2010

A quest

I knew it lay deep below,
it scattered the light.
The path to it could consume me,
and yet I took the dive.

I went down with a whirl,
with the sea in and out,
choking dancing in a swirl,
my head becoming a cloud.

In this seeker’s game,
what was to become of me?
I only saw the treasures,
Buried deep below the sea.

It’s a kaleidoscopic world down here,
blue green weeds gently float.
Dispersed rays form rainbows,
and you can see shadows of the boats.

Shoals of baby fishes leaving,
for school in bright morns,
flapping their fins all the way,
vivid pinks and orange their uniforms.

I came upon a farm of jelly fishes,
playing pretty tricks with light,
as a softest fabric they move n swish,
tempted, you reach and touch,
and you’ll be taking flight.

On her way to plaza the lady snail,
Tread carefully she’s slow n frail.
Carrying an elegant white shell clutch,
spoilt rich n haughty as a dutch.

I saw some starry fish, basking on the sunny floor.
They say a star long ago fell from the sky,
that’s where all the shiny sand came by,
and they too came riding its core.

A river current sped past,
salving lovers anxious,
separated by expanses vast.
Across seven seas it sees through,
routing corked phials of billet-doux.

As I walked on the floor,
I heard the song of whales,
dancing in the ocean,
telling their magical tales.

They’re singing of the mer empire,
that it’s full of rubies diamonds and sapphires.
The wondrous creatures are all in their story-
full of beauty, wisdom and glory.

A wreck of sunken ship
reminds me of the time of a golden whip
lashed on the poor by the rich
so they could glitter in stone leaving the pitch.

I came upon a chamber,
portraits of damsels wearing amber,
chests of diamond in reckless abandon,
with all gone, whom would they hang on?

But the life under sea goes on as ever,
wrecks of past making home for a new endeavor.
Tumultuous and tranquil this world is at once,
divine balance reflects divine brilliance.

'Ere i come upon the end of my tale,
and with the last sip of my ginger ale,
I leave you with this to think- they'll
try to bind you but if you prevail,
and leave out to take an untaken trail,
forfeited would be assurance and comfort,
and your loved ones you'll avert,
just to meet strangers,
or for a taste of lurking dangers.
Or to forfeit the greater enemies of dullness and monotony
which are but slow poisons and cause such agony
of which you see neither a source nor a face,
still it keeps you bleeding without blood's trace.

So let ennui make your life bland,
or keep burning the flame, the shadows wane.
Venture shores far and near,
or let your mind undertake the voyage to ease wear
You learn much while at home,
but fly out whence you're grown.
You'll be consumed, but a deeper self will rise from you,
and the tricky ground will be your learning milieu
share your wisdom, your love and expand
but first abandon to understand

Friday, March 19, 2010

Uncouth Expression

Why do I have to put all out in a hurry,

thoughts that ages bury.

Pop like a flame it lights my mind.

Bang when it seeded I thought I divined.

Puff when I shoot it out my mouth,

Whiff, uncouth with rush comes out

Sunday, March 7, 2010

Day Dreaming


Longing to be in my circle

Where I can go round free,

Losing myself intoxicated,

Away from life I fabricated,

On to my joyful spree!!!

Tuesday, December 8, 2009

Forsaken

Where has it gone,
all the light that was shone,
by my ancestors upon me.
Why can't I think,
deep Thoughts, on the brink
they stay, just the surface I can see.

Has narcissism taken,
why, why am I forsaken?
I can't see, oh I can't behold!
The light I see is but a sea of gold,
for which my soul I sold.

Sunday, November 29, 2009

The Abstract

Tried to dive deeper
Tried to dig hard
But you could never reach it
You could just play a part
You thought it’s illusion
You mocked its presence
But you only got delusion
It never made a sense

It was abstract
And only when the depths themselves climb up,
and ensnare you and bewitch you
Would you be able to see it for fact.

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

Out Of The Abyss

Scavenging the odds and ends like a street dog
To bring back the lost glory from the past
The poodle with the diamond collar
tossed at me one dollar
I know I’ll get back my pride someday
One day and that day is to come soon
I’ve heard it from the old man time
The Dawn is coming.

The feeling makes me numb
As if a suction pump
Is drilling a hole
Crucifying my soul
Sucking all my air
Leaving me with a vacuum to stare
I know I’ll fill this void someday
one day and that day is to come soon
I’ve heard it from the silence of the tunnels the dawn is upon us

Even in all the riches I lie in the ditches
Forgotten like the oil lamp
Now turned cold and damp
Extinguished now I wait for the night
when again I can light up the world bright
And I know my time will come someday
one day and that day is to come soon
I hear it in the music of the crickets night is withered
The dawn is coming

The mirror which lured with promises sure
To show me my identity
But it was a fallacy
The cause of my captivity
In this twin brother so cold
I saw no warmth of a soul
From his eyes so hollow
Vanity dribbled
And in his soul so shallow
Only the shell was visible
He stole my face
And his deathly embrace
I am fighting to keep my sanity
While he traps me in chains of vanity
But I know I’ll break his chains someday
One day and that day is to come soon
I hear it from the morning skies
The dawn has come.