Smoke of Life

Dense smoke from the chimney
Gushing out with life;
No air can subside it,
No wind can diffuse it;
Wanting to take up challenges
Notwithstanding the barriers ahead.


Trying to fulfill its ambition
Of rising high to be proclaimed
The Angel of Clouds;
Trying to shield itself
From the inevitable wind
Making it fade away.


The diffusing smoke
Surrendering to its destiny,
Fading away till no one to see,
Not a trace of it will remain,
Engulfed by the forces of nature,
Only its memories will remain
With the bird it choked in flight!



------ Here smoke depicts the life of a man. Emerging from the chimney (womb) it is exuberant and joyful in nature, ready to take the challenges (wind). The high ambitions a man sets himself as the 'Angel of Clouds'.. the smoke tries to touch the clouds, trying to touch the sky. But inevitable death can't be avoided and like a man, it slowly fades towards its death. The smoke fades away till unseen of.. like the body of a dead man... who has ceased to exist!!

Obscurity

The burnt earth
Formed into shape,
The cloud comes alive
With the touch of holiness.
The obscure visions,
The smoke dispersing,
Mind deified.


The feel of nothingness
Amidst everything,
The burnt remains
Left back as an abandoned child.
Clock relieved of keeping
The tide of time!


Suffocating smoke
Rendering peace to the mind,
Wispy visions providing pictures
Of mountains unconquered
Light from the candle, manoeuvring
In this strong breeze.


Shifting clouds,
Unwillingly carried by wind;
Passionate breath,
Mottled with godly blessings;
Benumbed mind,
Trying to forget days past!


--------this is written from the context of a person(probably a sadhu) after smoking a 'chillum'... when he thinks of the unconquered mountain of his god...
'The burnt earth.. formed into shape'.. symbolizes the chillum...
'The burnt remains left back...' symbolises the ash which is left back...

What Destiny Holds...

The shimmering lights shinning so bright
Trying to find a way with my candle-light;
Robbed of my own fields,
Robbed of my own lands,
This alienation causing my anomie.

The free air, unimpedimented,
Lashes on those concrete walls,
The owl has ceased to maul
The birds given up flying;
The aesthetic minds have been demented!

Eons of luminous bulbs
Unable to banish the darkness,
Life from the artificial shrubs
Lowering the coveted finesse,
Trampled by the hard shoes of destiny.

Independent of the sole source of energy
Artificiality ruling over nature,
Flagrant thoughts mature
Age of building an effigy;
What destiny holds!


------ this was written in gurgaon... I found out that there were only 2 types of people living over there--- one stinkingly rich, and the other hoping that he'll find a meal after the starved day... nothing in between... though gurgaon was initially an arid area... now its turning into a rich metropolis with innumerable skyrisers and world's leading companies establishing their bases there...

Bequest

Standing in this shore of no light,
The cold wind caressing my face;
A 'dingy' approaching in the storm,
Never did I feel its importance.
Struggling in a delirium to save it
I was being swallowed in by the quick sand.

The sting of the scorpion benumbed
My ability to fight against;
Gradually sinking in this sand
Like the feathers of a bird being torn apart.
The crustacean layer covering,
Quenching the need for stitches!

Mourning the death of the newborn,
Obscure to me,
Sinking till the throat,
The eyes free to visualize;
The hawk relying on its eyesight
Only to be pestered by the winds.

Uprooting the tree
Not to leave any trace,
The shards of crabs climbing,
Nesting in my body;
Hoardes of parasites and leeches
Making their way to feast.

Differentiating the layers
Of moss and lichens,
I lie stagnant, succumbed in this quicksand;
The protruding sockets
Provide naive visions
Of uncounted boats drowning!


------- this is actually a prostitute's story... being drowned in the quicksand(soceity)... the lichens and moss growing on her skin (filth)... the crustaceans (people using her). The idea is Sourav's ... hence the piece is dedicated to him!!!!

The Phlegmatic Moon

A pearl in the black velvet
Listening intently to the breath,
The clear, solemn darkness
The cold tear to caress---
The mountain ravine guzzling
In this rugged lassitude.

Oh! The virgin silk-skinned damsel,
The lascivious desire dissemble;
Oh! The undefiled queen of the night
Stay up late, so I might,
See your ineluctable face
Reflected in the watery haze.

To see you gleaming in my eyes
To hear the languish in your voice,
I feel my soul comforted
Among the myriad layers of darkness;
Oh! The virgin silk-skinned damsel,
Oh! The undefiled queen of the night!!

-------- The moon is shinning so brightly... but I can only see her through the iron bars of my window...

Firefly

Shrouded in the darkness
Nothing visible in sight,
Moving about with surreptitious guile
With its own faint light;
No one does it depend upon
To show its path,
Guided by its own light
Flying, without being hurt.

The lighted ship
In the invisible firmament,
Guided by itself
Towards its own atonement;
Unmatched from those halogen bulbs,
Condoned light to show.
Sailing impeccably
In this sea of obscurity,
Like an asteroid in the night sky
Searching for its destination.

A flash of light
In this esoteric darkness,
Obliterating the barriers
In its ephemeral vision;
The minuscle light to show
The path in this mysterious voyage.
As the sun sets in the horizon,
A new sparkle is born,
Escorting the butterflies
Towards the withered flowers.

Transcendence

Like a lighted candle enclosed
Within the glassy walls,
The flame of life burns
In this ephemeral reality;
Savouring its own warmth
Unscathed from the mysterious breeze.

The light will gradually fade
Like the crepuscular blaze of sunset,
Only to be obscured by the rebirth
Of the nocturnal grandiose.
The ticking of clock counting
The days set by destiny.

We are, but the withered flowers
Trodden by the step of time;
Your warm embrace
Will hold its amiable touch
Like the pure mountain snow
In the hands of time!