Kitten

A kitten came with its shivering form
Crying aloud may be in pain
She had strips of white and gold
Se had tiny claws and paws


Unsteady was gait but stare was straight
That stare was sharp and could cut even steel
I met her stare and started to sing
Hoping to stop her shiver and stare


A teardrop formed at the corner of her eyes
Feline eyes of marble and fire
That tear drop fell carving a hole
Through the bowels of my earth



The kitten spoke...in her margarine voice
And told me to stop my meaningless song…
She was the cat who knew her pain
And cats have a way to deal with that

Little bird

An angry sun gleamed through glass
And the sultry wind danced around
Two three minds were moving on
Hoping to see their little bird


Expletive words and occasional sobs
Weighed the car down and made it sway
Ignoring the sway they moved on
Hoping to see their little bird


Under the sun on dusty paths
Vultures looked on with bloodshot eyes
Staring ahead they moved on
Hoping to see their little bird


On that flinty asphalt road
The car zoomed on with its terminal sway
Like a lightning the mighty crash came
Twisting the metal and tearing the flesh


With an interested air the vultures came
And found death dancing around
A baby’s cry and a fathers groan
Made them sing their morbid song


Straining her wings the little bird came
And saw their eyes glassy and cold
She opened her mouth but made no sound
Hugged all of them and closed her eyes


The vultures waited feigning sleep
Sensing a feast on this splash of flesh
The little bird slept hugging it all
And dreamt of her nest and its haunting dreams

River and I

I sat there, on an ancient bench
Gazing at an ancient river
We struck a chord and started our talk
About his flow and his heart


He was born when the sun beams kissed
The snowy cheeks of his sleeping mom
A little hop here and a mighty splash there
The child transformed to a handsome youth


The river flowed on, and see he did
Lonely teardrops and dancing hearts
Many a times he fell in love
At times with mermaids, at times with swans


He was the river and he couldn’t keep
Their oozing love in his flowing heart
He was lonely as he couldn’t find
One little heart which could contain his love


On a sparkling day filled with light
He saw her form and her dreamy eyes
Taken aback he froze in fear
Seeing the depth and warmth of her soul


She was the sea and she saw his pain
She took him in with al his flaws
Loosing his fear he embraced her
And his fluid heart throbbed in her endless soul


He died there in her arms
Only to live an endless life
Every moment he is born
He lives his youth and then sleeps in her soul


Giving me his ancient smile
The river flowed on leaving me on shore
I thought of my life and I thought of you
And I became the river and you the sea

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