Saturday, December 15, 2007

LIFE’S LITTLE INSTRUCTION BOOK

Rise.

Turn around.

Take death in your palms.

In the shield of darkness, hide the petals of a lotus.

Tear down the veins with the introvert’s rage.

See the battlefield below the moonstruck earth.

Wipe away the shards from the eyes.

Burn the oceans with the fire in your heart.

Let the waves be your unicorn.

Besides,

You are not alone.

LUNATIC DIARIES OF …

I

In these confines, the smell of insomnia is strong,

The unshaven walls sport an incongruous expression;

Even the doors and windows have their eyebrows stitched…

The furniture grunts relentlessly.

II

….and then when home seems alien,

The eyes zoom into a pallete of green.

No thirst for the throat,

No inquisitive voice –

The hand involuntarily soars into the blue.

I have mastered the language of the birds,

And man’s gestures and words seem illegible.

The lizard’s glare, the movement of the red ant,

The whiff in the air, are no mystery to me;

At midnight as the aged owl looks on,

The devil’s disciple gets in the ring….

III

Eyes fill up with anxiety as I am spotted.

In closed rooms, solitude or aimless loiter

Is all they have rationed for this even lesser mortal.

Chains have been spared out of pity;

I am deserted – an untouchable amidst

Father’s apprehension and mother’s silence.

Somnambulation is not a peaceful experience.

IV

Like an illegitimate offspring,

Here lie my words –

On the bed – below the table – unruffled…

Time has clawed his nails into it.

An unknown beast devours it, before my helpless eyes.

But I can still hear it weep –

And then – the huen cry – a beheaded spirit –

-- the stench of the morgue –

And this nightmare remains my solitary guardian angel.

Wednesday, December 5, 2007

WHILE THE NIGHT STOPS….

The red tuft rises on the grass,

The wind is making up his mind,

The firefly is itching for news..

A flame is all that we must find.

Radical changes are to occur

The voices uphold my stand –

The flame will soon begin to flicker,

And the spark will be lit in another land.

The rooster prophesizes in the dark,

The grass murmurs a new name

We’ve got to keep the eyelids still,

We’ve got to see the colours of the flame….

SO LONG..FAREWELL…..

Cool, peaceful logic and sense

The inflamed fangs lurk in the throng,

And then the sting that for once,

Dispels the right from the wrong.

Monumentous tides like a frothy flame

Disobeying the laws and the decree,

The senses shiver, the mind jolts,

And the soul tries, but fails to break free.

Blinded by the cloud of fire,

The thunder culminates from the pain..

The vertical lives are dismantled,

The fire alarms announce the rain.

And then, we met like an illusion,

There was no love, but the heart skipped a beat.

Charred in the fiery rain,

We parted ways with ambivalent feet.

Monday, December 3, 2007

FEAR

“Darkness is a mild manifestation of fear. I have lived in fear and got to know it so well, that, a black cat’s purr, the spider on the cobweb, a dark shadow, donot perturb me. They are, on the other hand my friends.

Streaks of light on summer mornings, have tried luring me out into the other world. But I find solace here. In the dark, when silence is echoed onto the giant pillars by the trillion thoughts that scream into my mind, I rarely bat an eyelid. Thoughts rushing in and out collide, confer and pacify me – I have nothing to fear.

Silence, that exists as a positive entity and not just a mere negation of unwanted sounds comforts me. It imparts two, three or even more senses to the inanimate objects that surround me. I am, never alone. I have nothing to fear.

The mirror is my best friend. The mahogany bed passes the tired look; the iron chest smiles on like the aged gladiator with paternal pride; the curtains hold still to hold back even the gentlest of breezes in their sinews. Their veins dilate, the timbre glow narrates this tremendous course of events that occur in stillness.

Silence, so holy and delicate, that even Death would knock twice before he wishes to enter and ruin the fragile equilibrium that exists. He would probably leave us alone. (the male personification was unnecessary but…..I have nothing to fear.)

I have wanted to keep things like this. The gradual trickle of sand, that single drop onto the tinkling crystal would in turn set in motion an entire cacophony, orchestrating themselves to a fever pitch and then, climaxing in an agonizing crescendo. But, I have nothing to fear in darkness, I have nothing to fear in silence.

It was broken by his silky voice….”

VAGABOND ON AN EMPTY ROAD

I stalk the sundial,

Setting aside the mathematics.

I bare myself to light and shadow

Share dusk and dawn with the swallow,

And follow the footprints on sand

As if they were my own.