If you think of it

Pleasure is so transient
It is much like a gust of wind.
It is like the cube of ice which slips away
From your grip on a summer afternoon.


If I think of bliss,
It is like seeing the sea after a long time.
It is like watching the stars
At night from the terrace.


Satisfaction is much like a chewing gum,
You keep on doing it without knowing.
You only know when you are not satisfied,
You only know you are not chewing the gum any more.


If I talk of passion,
Nothing beats that when she first holds your hands,
And you don't want to leave her soon.
You know what you feel.


When I think of sanity,
It is like washing your hands
Before you eat.
It is very ritualistic.


If I talk of happiness,
It is that moment when you know you have won.
It also includes those moments afterwards,
When you know you could have lost, and
That it did not happen.


Comfort is less vague,
It is indeed a lot of respiration.
It is like the silence which is not disturbing.
It is like that puff of smoke, which mattered most.


Love is unassuming,
It is that which you never noticed,
It is that very small thing which by its inevitable presence
Did not need your attention.


When I think of life,
It is like that cup of tea,
Without the right amount of sugar.
It is like the pop-corn you buy at a theatre,
Too filling, without much value.

Leads

When there are flowers,
There is fragrance,
But when they die,
There is no smell, but memory.


When there are memories,
There is recollection,
But when you forget,
There is no pain, but bitterness.

When there is bitterness,
There is retrospection,
But when you don't think anymore,
There is no feeling, but void.

When there is void,
There is desperation,
But when you are not restless anymore,
There is no passion, but tragedy.

When there is tragedy,
There is no aspiration,
But when you don't wish,
There is no life, but evilness.

The abode of peace

The roads were dusty,
The wind was cold,
The evenings were romantic,
In the abode of peace.

People thronged the streets,
In those wintery evenings,
I smelled life somewhere,
Life had not yet taken heed of me.

Trees covered the sky,
The chill in the air,
Freedom created a thrill,
I had my eyes on the distant hill.

So much I had heard,
So little I had seen,
The abode of peace,
I hardly knew the unforeseen.


Strange eyes met,
Only to reinforce the continuum,
Strange people flocked,
Only to reiterate the absolute.

I was a kid back then,
Not a cynic still,
So little I had seen,
So many things were to be done.

I sat and wondered,
What life is.
I sit and still ponder,
What life is!

If it were to me

If I sleep tonight,
Will you wake me up tomorrow?
If I don't say anything again,
Will you remember me?

If I don't come over,
Will you still go on?

I am not the sort of person who asks questions.
I am not the person who needs answers.

Senses

That when I see more today,
I seem to get the connect,
I realize, everything that has a beginning has an end.


Such a relief, such a balance,
To be aware of the transience.
I realize, to not ask for more.

Youth sure is a crazy time.
When more is not enough,
When less has no meaning.

I finally seem to find peace,
And not strive to be what I am not.
I sense a strange content,
I make peace with my contempt.

It is in understanding,
It is in belief,
It is in temperance,
It is inside.
May be, it is for me,
But you also know,
what I am talking about.

Evenings in a small town

The evening set in,
The town was lit,
The air was fragrant,
The hearts were lighted with desire.

If I say, I never loved it,
You know I must be lying.
The insects encircled the light-tubes,
Maddened with love.

I remember the roads,
I enjoyed the mirth,
It smelt of burnt clay,
The dust made the cold nights worse.

I remember walking all the while,
I recollect savoring every moment,
I hardly knew of anything,
That made everything special.

I had such a lovely heart,
I could see, smell and feel things.
I had such a lovely time,
I wish I could feel them again.

La Coiffeur

A small shop,
Almost no one entered.
Had a fancy name,
That's what kept me interested.

The doors were always closed,
Never saw through them,
Never was lucky enough,
Only got a sense of the unknown inside.

In the web of mysteries, somewhere I hung my desire,
Entangled, I left them there and ran away.
Never ever was invited inside,
I just ran and ran,
Tonight I remember the name of the shop,
And the fantasies that dulled my senses.

Disgustingly simple

I struggled to find the truth,
The bruises are too much today,
The knowledge is killing.

Oh, I really battled for my ground,
Now, I am so scared to call it my own.
What I know is my greatest fear.

What I do not know is still comforting.
How I deal with the uncertainties is fabulous,
But how I have struggled against truth,
Is killing me tonight.

Why do I sense guilt, fear and anxiety?
What is wrong?
Is it just a craving for a high?
It's so disgustingly simple.

I got my pi

The biggest question I had,
Was to unearth the answer to why.
Oh and did I not understand it.

The strongest doubt I had,
Was to figure out whom.
Oh and did I not know it after all.


The grave concern I had,
Was to comprehend when,
My greatest fear became what I learnt.

The whole journey has been too much of an enlightenment,
I always wanted to,
The surprising thing is I got what I desired.
And today, that itself is such a burden.

The traveller

Who is there for you?
O traveller!
Where do you seek to go?
Take rest for a while,
Where will you find such repose again?
O traveller.


Those days are over,
Those few days of love,
Those nights are distant dreams now.
She has got over you,
May you forget as well
The love filled meetings.
O those lovely meetings!
The darkness looms large now,
No light at the end of the tunnel.
O traveller, where do you plan to go?
Take rest for a while,
Where will you find such shade again?


No one is there awaiting you,
No one is there eager to receive you!
Of your miseries, no one suffered,
No eyes shed tears.
Whom will you call your own?
Who mourns your absence?
O traveller, where do you seek to go?
Better take a breather here,
Where will you find such comfort again?
Who is there awaiting you, O traveller?

O traveller, you showed path to so many!
How come are you lost in your journey?
You have demystified problems of others!
How come are you entangled by your own?
How can a snake-charmer sway on his own tune?
Where will you go, O traveller?
Who awaits you?
O traveller, where will you go?
Why don't you take some rest?
You may not find such shade again!
No one awaits you, O traveller, no one.

The learned say the world is a mirage,
The writings are in water,
It is seen by all, it is experienced by all,
But no one owns anything,
Nothing is yours or mine,
O traveller, where will you go?
Take rest for a while?
Where will you find such shade gain?
Who awaits you there?

In this sized vessel

When the cold wind blows,
I miss the summer.
When the bright sun glows,
I miss the rains.

When I see so much,
I miss myself.
When I am alone,
I seem to miss everything. 

Sometimes, I don't understand when,
I get a strange contentment.
I try to figure out with my limited senses,
The reasons seem to surprise me today
And fool me tomorrow.

Can I get rid of myself ?
In this sized vessel,
Can I possibly store the ecstasy?

If in acceptance lies the truth,
Where is contentment ?
Is it in fulfillment?
Is it in exuberance?

Is it that I get freed,
Only when I am done?
Is that I have to wait for the ultimate moment,
To experience the true bliss?

Is that the journey is meant to be eventful?
Is that the destination is an end to all of that?
Is reaching, not the idea?
Is hanging around, the objective?

Is purpose, a consolation?
Is destiny, a joke?

Is that the purpose is truly so naive?
Yet, the manifestation so complex?

A train journey and thereafter

I caught the last train.
I was only lazy.
Who wants to leave home?
Who wanted to go back?

I took all the wrong steps.
I took all my time.
I boarded the train,
Struggling my way through the crowd.

She was sitting close by.
I had hardly seen her.
She was shining,
I was my usual.


We sat apart,
Who knew we would talk?
We were born different.
Who knew we would align? 

I remember, when she asked my name.
I remember, I looked out of the window,
Into the darkness past her.
I was my usual cynic.


I never knew of any light.
Until I saw her more.
I saw her a few days more.
I had written the only piece of paper.
That ever made sense to me.

I do not know,
How I slept those nights,
How I lived those days.
Why was it supposed to be?


Ever since, I have experienced life.
I have felt myself.
I have been closer to the reality.
Why did I ride the fateful train?

When there was nothing,
She was there for sometime.
Whenever I had asked myself,
I never got a different answer.

How can my mind colour things
To make them look beautiful ?
Or are they really so fascinating?
Why do I need to know?

One night, it was so cold.
I was shivering.
Only god could be so kind
To put the shawl on me.

I had given her a burning piece of paper,
I had lit a cigarette.
There was a fire in the ground.
Music filled the air.

I probably wont be able to listen
To that song for long now.
I can hardly know anything more sure,
Than that it was supposed to be.

We were separated by walls,
Before we could totally part.
But how I ran to the station,
How I could not look beyond anymore.

She was going back.
I literally ran to the station.
She was scribbling something,
She handed me over a burnt piece of paper.

Who knew that the fire would prolong?
Who knows if it still burns?
Dreams and illusions are as real as
The world that exists besides me.

I sat down with her on the platform,
She said nothing,
We tried to act,
Everything was destined to be over soon.

The train arrived,
It was running through me,
When it stopped at the station,
My heart stopped too.

She moved her suitcase,
She pulled her big handbag,
I was trying to say good-bye,
Her fingers slipped away from mine.
Never have I held a hand stronger.

How was I to know,
That it would make me unhinged?
When I utter my silent prayers,
Can He not intervene again?

Is an individual's faith any less than
The faith of a group?
Why was there a miracle that night?
Why can't it repeat itself tonight?

I have so outgrown myself,
I have become so immersed.
Why do I have to see through the pain?
Why do I have to deal with causality?

Why can't the Architect show me two doors?
Am I so blinded by falsities?
Am I so less ?
I can't see a different culmination.
Why can't the veil be removed again?

Will she come back with Morpheus,
Looking for me?
Will she find the Train-man?
Will she take the trouble?

Everything can't have a causality.
There must be scope for irrationality.
Everything can't be added up.
There must be scope for generosity.

Actions are hardly the projections of human thoughts.
Can a man not succumb to externalities?
Can one journey define a man's life forever?

I immerse myself tonight in prayer.
In the court of Almighty.
In gratitude and pleasure.
A weak bliss and lot of devotion.

My wants are so ruthless,
Feels bad to know they originate from me.
Yet, I ask, if there is a bigger reality?
Is there a bigger reality than
When all that matters is a simple smile from her.

My sins are deep.
My wishes many.
I am as human as I could be.
Why can't she be less divine?

The clock

The clock ticks away,
Calm and meticulous.
The gears engage every moment,
A human endeavor to measure the unthinkable.

The clock ticks away,
Things have remained the same for so long.
The minutes add, the seconds multiply,
The dust accumulates on the edges.

A human superstition to rebel -
Against the silent passage of time ?
The clock just ticks away,
A rational justification of the inexplicable.

A meaningless effort to measure change,
A change in something so surreal.
Something which we can possibly not perceive in absolute,
But difficult to even refute.

A fool's paradise,
A man's world.
The clock - only if it could skip a few moments.
Bound by the gear teeth of the physical reality,
What can it possibly capture?

The beautiful lanes of Krishna Nagar

The road is narrow,
The way is thick and fast.
The houses save each other
From the rays of the tropical sun.

The ice cream vendors drag their frozen boxes
To and fro.
The wheels keep on turning,
People are coming home.

The clothes hang by the balcony,
Curious glances meet each other.
The shops are so full of ingredients of life,
The air smells of love.

The roads are dusty and uneven,
Like the very road of life,
They are half-made and lively,
Unlike the depressing concretes.


The small market lies close by,
Sustains the samsara in the lanes,
The nirvana is of course in the small kothis,
Love is that what bridges the gaps.

The seasons change, 
People move on,
The lanes look ever so beautiful,
On the canvas of life,
The paintings go on.

Heartless

I have grown heartless,
So have you.
My thoughts have dried,
So have your words.


I have become restless,
But you are no longer there.
My dreams are so dead,
Only yours were beyond me.


I wonder, if sense will prevail,
Will reason stand without bias,
Will justice be done without prejudice,
Will we submit ourselves to the truth ?


Will all these happen in the fullness of time?
Or, are we already so lightyears away,
That things have changed.
That men have ceased to exist ?

A fundamental dilemma

The door opens to an island of treasure.
The treasures cater to the satisfaction of the herd.
The herd forgets even that the door was once closed. 
The door gets closed now.
The herd can't see the darkness anymore.
The dazzle blinds them too!


The attachment keeps me engrossed,
The detachment keeps me informed.
The ties make me delighted,
The serenity makes me immortal.

The crowd is busy.
The lonely is experiencing the continuum.
The deserted can hear the silence,
The occupied is bound to only crave for more.

The fundamental dilemma is between pleasure and bliss.
A relationship with the continuum or a spike in existence?
At ease with the Brahman or at ease with yourself ? 
Happy with the limits or unsatisfied with the burden of the unlimited ?
May be, organic involvement or may be detachment of the soul ?
Causality of the inevitable ? What about that ?


If the choice is already made, what a lame task to understand it !
What a lame opportunity to exist, what a sham to put up with it.
Knowing well that the choices are illusions, 
One leading faster to the source than the other!

Less is beautiful

Drops of water,

On my head. 

Only one glance,
And she left.

Lane was pitch dark,
But the neon light.

There was total silence,
But she hummed something.

Sky was black,
One errant white thing.
There was laughter,
And the grim photo on the wall, hinged.

The dishes were full,
The glasses to the brim,
Something was vacuous,
There was emptiness.

The air was chilled,
Her voice was warm.
I just kept looking at the fire,
And nothing she said.

My love

It was never really alien to me,
That I loved you.
Only in moments of the evil hours,
Have I questioned your love.


You never halt, my love,
Such is your vitality.
Some stupid make the only valiant attempt
To outwit you.
And they only achieve to match you, my love.


I salute your divine grace,
Your directionality and focus.
And how you fool me, my love.
I am only a mortal, and to perceive you
Is such a struggle beyond the mundane battle
In the evolutionary ground.

It must be difficult being you,
To witness all and still not be a part of any.
Such is your universality,
That I surrender to you, my love.

It is beyond my capacity
To express my adoration towards you.
You are overwhelmingly simple
And true.

Nothing would make sense without you,
Sense is there, because of you.
The world revolves with you.
You run the universe or do you?


Entropy seems to follow you
And my love, who don't?
I shall perish soon and so will so many,
And yet you carry all of us with you,
You try to give a meaning to this existence,
Such is your love.

You are my prophet,
You are my true love.
Synchronous to the subtle movements
Of those man-made gears,
I breathe my respect to you.

The final hour

I might have just done wrong enough,
Wrong enough not to survive the storm tonight.
I might love you and survive tonight.
But your love will still kill me one day.

I might be wrong,
I have never been far from it.
I have tried to be right,
Only to fail miserably more so.

I might rejoice tonight.
In the acceptance of my follies,
I feel proud and sick.
There is a vague satisfaction.

Nothing has made sense yet,
I have gone through all of it.
Only to see how badly we fail,
How badly we lose against the conspiracy,
The conspiracy of life.

There is no regret,
But to submit to an evolutionary defeat,
And God's will reigns supreme.

Like an emperor of the mind,
I declare the sovereignty of love will assure peace,
And the ruling of the reason will ensure prosperity,
And faith will create happiness.
And still nothing will really pass the final test.
Everything will dissolve in the universal solvent.
And don't ask me what it is.
I would like to believe it's ether.

I guess this solvent is time.
It is this beautiful seductress
Whom nobody can renounce.
No soul has the audacity to steer itself away
From the clasp of time.
Only in miraculous moments in life,
Does time freeze and enjoy them my friend.
And I assure you have lived if you have.
You cannot live more, if you have.

I might not have done justice to my moments in life,
But you don't run away from them.
Let them sink and drown yourself with them.
And wait for the final hour.
The bell shall toll and He will come.

Nights

There is a disturbing silence,
There is some ecstatic smoke.
The air is reeking of burnt carbon,
And there is diffused enlightenment
Trying to fight the growing darkness.

The lamp-light is blinding and merciless,
The fan blades are rotating ominously,
The compressor is sweating out,
Collective intelligence lies scattered,
Shelved, or subdued.


Reasons are keeping me awake,
Substances trying to comfort me,
Memories are suffocating,
I am battling to get rid of life until
There is light again in this world.

The pleasure centers of my brain,
Have stopped fooling me.
Love and devotion are miraculously emanating
From the unburnt cells of my body.


There is not much of a struggle left now,
The end seems near.
Not a light year to cross,
Before she comes and kisses me.