Insomnia ..........

With a mind drugged with insomnia

I greeted the rabid chilly day

With listless eyes i looked at her

Hoping for a dreamless sleep

She spat at me with her chilly dew

And punched me hard with her icy winds

She did this all with poise and tact

As if to test my thirst for sleep

I crawled back to my steaming shell

Shielding my eyes from her practical stare

She was ruthless and seeped into my shell

And clawed my mind till it bled

I stopped my fight and lay prostrate

And plugged my ears to ward off her laugh

I cried aloud for my lovely slumber

The dreamless sleep who loved me once...

For the Dead

Realm of the walking dead is indeed vast

Their deathly dreams are big and just

They want to build their gilded castles

Amidst the slumber of their death

They walk around with those downcast eyes

Trying to find a cure for death

They sniff and grope to find their folks

To exchange their morbid stinking breath…

Deathly dreams and entombed lust

Fly around when they congregate

The oldest corpse among their guild

Rants and raves of warmth and fire

Incense and perfumes are thrown around

To mask the stink of walking dead

Fires of sandal are lit here and there

To mimic the warmth of living dreams

Out they came… the walking dead

With a plastic skin to mask the death

They felt happy with their new found smell

And went on to build their gilded tombs

.......................................................

My journal if I can call this one so begins on this chilly night of my twenty sixth year of existence. Reasons are many for this decision of mine to note down the details of my unremarkable life. Any ways I wouldn’t dare to note down those despicable and malignant reasons, for I wish to read this journal during those interminable years of the future which I am sure to endure. When I sit down to read this jottings ion those dreary barren lonely nights of future , I don’t want to remember the spine chilling baseness which acted as a catalyst in sparking my endeavor to write this memoir. Above all I need this as a grand epithet of my ultra sensitive existence. Enough on the reasons of mine to not note down the reasons let me begin, of course in the next Para.

Today I walked with a frail old man through a worn-out monstrosity which many had the audacity to call as a palace. He was with his loved ones and I was walking as if in a trance carrying my camera. This man of seventy was in a good mood, smiling with a twinkle in his eyes and cracking jokes as if to shrug off the ornaments of senility which time had dutifully deposited on him. Ignoring the innumerable ancient blood clots in his body he avidly observed the relics of war and the fading gilded towers of the palace. He walked barefoot braving the parched cobblestones to visit the private quarters of a long dead and possibly demented king. He told me to take countless photos of him standing near his loved ones and the palace. With a sarcastic and knowing smile I obliged. The bout of nausea which I invariably get when I see someone moved and inspired by trifles was threatening to rip my sensitive innards apart. I held on fixing a plastic smile on my face, because I needed to know the reasons. The reason behind this old mans apparent self deception, false bravado and cheerfulness, his display of vitality as if to defy the nastiness of old age. Find out I did, and was utterly and deeply touched by the freshness of those reasons, yes I found out the reasons when a lone teardrop fell on my hand which was holding the camera. ..

He was leaning over my shoulder watching the replay of the pictures which I had clicked on my camera. His stroke ravaged left hand was put over my shoulder. The lone tear drop had its origins from his cataract infested eyes…

Though I was silent that lone teardrop spoke to me, it spoke of those violent passionate nights he spent with the women he loved, it spoke to me of the joy when he saw his babies for the first time, it spoke of the grand loneliness which he had the fortune to endure…Above all it also spoke to be of his awareness of that finality called death, whose proximity was making his weary old bones to brace for one final fight. In fact that lonely burning teardrop spoke of a chapter of his lone, cheerful and ultimately victorious fight which he had fought right here in the palace, which I had earlier termed as a monstrosity. I saw the full grandeur of the great drama called life through the eye of a teardrop…I saw its hero too…the frail old man...

Fall

Up I went one fine day

From a salty swelling sea

Weightless I was n filed with rapture

As I was a free lone cloud

Soon I got a naughty friend

Who filled my mind with tales of freedom

She pushed me up till the edge of sky

And nudged my soul to gaze at stars

Transfixed I gazed with bated breath

And thought about things they knew

Alone they stood amidst the dark

Pregnant and full with truths and blaze

Soon I had to look around

For my naughty playful friend

She was gone as she was the wind

And her kind don’t stay on an on

I had a glimpse of a world

Filled with grandeur, truths, and blaze

But with out wind propping me up

I had to make my journey back

Slowly I fell deep in thought

With my knowledge weighing me down

The vision of freedom was proving too heavy

For this lonely little cloud

Coalesce I did to one big blob

As I made my sorry trip

Sea was there to take me back

And make me one with her bulk

Crashed I did to that salty tomb

With the thoughts of stars and their truths

Now I swim amidst the fish

Hoping to gaze as I once did

Glitter......

Alone I dwelled in my solitary dungeon

A dungeon seeping with pain and filth

Darkness dust and slimy slimy creatures

Crawled and coiled into my soul

Life blood oozed from my open wounds

As the dreary days crept on and on

With an ice cold heart and putrid sores

I waited for the dawn of dusk

Dawn did come but not of dusk

It was the dawn of a bright sunshine

She came to my dungeon with dreamy eyes

And swept away the filth and grime

Softly with care and endless hope

I held her lovely tender form

Precious she was and kiss I did

And held on to her radiance

I thought of darkness dust and filth

I thought of them with dread and fear

But with the sunshine close to me

I forgot them like a bad old dream

Sunshine....I know you will have to fly

To light up one more distant heart

Will I languish in darkness and filth?

Or will I glitter the way i do?

Sublime hope with its tender wings

Sure do glimmer once in a while

The glimmer is brief and laced with haze

But that’s all which comforts me

Sunshine.......

drifting softly came she did
in front of me with all the glitter
i thought it was a morning dew
which caught a straying naughty beam


the voice was tender with a hint of joy
and a look which took my breath away
did she speak ..yes she did
she spoke of something which touched my soul


let me think..what I've done
to be blessed with a sparkle so rare
what it may i hardly care
but i do know sunshine is here ....

My Orion

With little palms behind my head

A long time back I looked above

It was a night with sparkling stars

A wisp of chill and a fading song

Among the million laughing stars

My little eyes rested on four

With out a smile they stood still

As if in guard or in trance

Time went on and change I did

But those four remained the same

In mean time I came to know

That they were called “the Orion”

Flush of youth with its musky charm

Filled me up with its lusty dreams

They made me laugh and lose control

Some times for smile..some times for tears

All the while I still looked

Up above at my friends

They were there standing still

With out a smile or a tear

With no avail try I did

To make them talk or at least glance

But serene they were in their stance

A staunch stance with out a care

Time went on and came one night

A nasty night with mocking stars

I was standing all alone

With a shattered soul and a wounded heart

I had a purpose for that night

One so dark with stench of death

I stood there determined..

To make that night my final one

As I stood I felt a glance..

From up above beyond the time

It was them “the orion”

Looking down with tender care

They opened up their ancient mouth

And with a voice filled with love

Spoke one word to my blistered soul

And then went back to their serene self

The word was tender but made of steel

And soul did cry the tears of hope

I gazed at them and smiled in joy

And thanked aloud for the whispered hope