The Gargoyle and the Confessional

The doors opened and he entered within……
As his cursed soul walked past the mighty gates
Which stood high enough not to allow even the drier winds.
His footsteps could be heard, he perhaps stumbled at the altar;
And remained there as the half-shut corner window illuminated him.
The light shone upon his face and he thought it was a good omen.
So he stood up again and walked on the path made by that dim light.
Scattered, diffused, refracted… but he could still follow the rays.
And walking thus he reached beyond them… in semi-darkness.
The rays perhaps were not allowed there, but vision was unimpaired.
All he could see was a chamber; small and draped….
He had reached his destination, the light had guarded him…
Elated, he went closer…. But stumbled again…
‘Rise my child!’ Came the voice from within. ‘Rise and speak.’
‘For I am here to listen to you and no one else can know
As even the rays can’t enter thus far. And winds? They never blow.’
‘Confess your sins, your doubts…. release your soul ‘

And he said….
‘I do not know if I am at a sin but I have this eternal thirst
That goes unquenched day and night even if the clouds do burst.
So I forever keep walking because I believe one day I will know
Where waters lie….at the home of winds or beneath the snow?
But I never seem to find them and my search never ends
As I don’t even know the form of it and the shapes that it pretends..’

As he spoke the fenestras slammed one by one in noise..
The rays shattered…. the doorway closed…
The drapes fell down….. the confessional broke its disguise

‘Yes thirst is a sin, the winds are to blame…but you carried it along
And came in with it, in this sanctum of content, I will quench your thirst
But you must for then serve, sacrifice and pay for your wrong.’

And as the words ended the rays integrated again;
Now lighting a new path above.. right above where he stood.
And in the light glowed a scimitar; edged and polished.
The altar shone and the sword fell down…. Blood all over.

And now he would reside in the same church… forever..
Hung at the door… his mouth opened wide… And his thirst?

Well… you will know if you ever saw gargoyles at the doors
The water keeps flowing through but does it ever taste a drop
He is serving still but what was made of the promises of the bishop?

MOSAIC............

I walk along your esplanades as the cities seem to converge,
‘Archaic’….. I think isn’t that the word to best describe you……?
After all its you who claims to have known the world more than me,
Of having stood there since I was yet a mere thought..
And I see you smirk as the cracks broaden
Now penetrating deep within the city walls…
Layer by layer, trying to explore the unseen and untold……….
When I was but just a child and you stood here in your mighty elegance
They told me a story……. The story of a treasure, which I always had believed in,
They said that the one who created you hid there glitter and gold,
They said that you would never lose that but keep it for people to know
And believe that misery would never befall them, as they have the most precious.
But when I first saw you I only saw the beauty, the faded one
You seemed so broken to me, pieces joined together…
Trying hard to stay where they are…………..scattered all along…
You were supposed to be colorful, but a mere shade of light you were,
Even those faded…… I had grown… forgotten the stories…..
And so had the world, all they talked about now was your dearth
The dearth of immutable colors…….. the sullen dearth of beauty
Your treasure all forgotten…………the stories all betrayed.
You have seen the world more than me, haven’t you?
But has the world seen you too…. Cared to stand by to take a glance
To try and know that you are something more than a mere mosaic
A feeble compilation of broken pieces that have lost their glamor.
No… the world doesn’t seem to care, and I would someday forget too
Like I would be forgotten…. Amongst the unexplored stories of another treasures.
And you would still be standing there, smirking at me…………..
As you are luckier, I know, you have the cracks to open up your layers
You believe that someday they will penetrate deep enough to bring it out.
The treasure all unearthed…… while I shall perish perhaps succumbed to the same cracks…
Taking along with me all the wishes to be unveiled…………….

CANDLESTICKS...

I kept waiting for you today; collecting the shattered pieces……….

Do you remember the silent music that had then flowed;
Swaying in the wind, dancing on its own tunes and forcing us along?
The way every note took its pace and then fell to soft cadences?
The way you then stepped inside? The way you broke into a song?

Our eyes met and then turned around, away from each other;
We often played this silly game of masquerades, with a hidden smile.
Pretending indifference we hid all the emotions within…………….
The music grew, and so did the depth in your voice, then in a sudden while……….

You walked over to me looking straight into my eyes,
And nearer you came louder was my heartbeat, but in perfect rhyme.
The corner in the room seemed a whole world to me now
I could only see your eyes then, lost in space and time.

You slowly uttered my name, gently raised my hand
And placed upon them wrapped thoughts of yours
Which I opened to see deep blue, urchin candlesticks.
I knew they meant something, but you looked unsure.

You were so like them; livid, deep, immensely silent.
It’s not that I was waiting; I just knew how to read your eyes.
I always could look through and know how you felt.
It’s not that I didn’t feel the same; I just didn’t let it arise…….

And I know now I was wrong…………….

And again we sat in the same room, though darker.
The candlesticks placed in the same corner even to that day.
A sullen silence hovered around carried in a hollow wind
Which swayed still…….. but no music was on play.

You looked at me and asked-“You don’t believe in it. Am I right?”
“I would like to…………. But I can’t somehow.”
I couldn’t read your eyes then as you never raised them.
So I kept on waiting, the same wind blew harder now.

And then it rushed to that desolated corner,
I saw the candles still lighted, but fighting with the noxious wind
The only bright part too was now condemned………………
There had always been darkness but now contrition too had crept behind.

I could feel myself burn, every time the flames flickered.
The struggle piercing deep within me, I cried.
Trying to pray to the wind to stop, leave us alone……..
But in the game of indifference I lost as the flames died.
A tiny glow at its tip and a white whiff of smoke……..
Rest everything was black……….lost to that dark night.
Everything seemed so tore apart that when you opened the blinds
I could see your face but illuminated in shredded light.

And in those feeble shreds I tried to look at you
But could not; maybe I was too afraid to read you now.
Or maybe we were still at our game of masquerades, I wish….
But the silence, joys, lividity all seemed but a broken vow.

My hands were in yours still, but we had lost the grip
The fingers held loosely I kept watching them slowly entangle.
You turned left and walked ahead; I couldn’t see you leave
So I turned around, rushed, a smash; and the candlesticks fell………….

But I am waiting for you even now; collecting the shattered pieces…………

Reaching Out.....

(this is the romantic version of my poem Ramblings... as written by Soumen.)



In the envelope of semi darkness I lie,
Buried beneath inches of slowly melting snow,
Suffocated I am, but embraced I have its numbness,
Beyond its inches, fathoms away, there's light, I know,
In the womb of darkness, I await its penetration,
But reach me perhaps it never shall ....

Drops cling to the ice, ready to fall,
Unsure as if, to depart from its soul.
Afterall, what beauty lies in it,
if not the desire to crystallize?
How can I ask it to let go of itself?
To sacrifice its identity, to loose it whole.
Only for faintly percieved sense of freedom?

The light grows stronger, and I hear the call,
In your wake, will my self take the fall?
Mirrors of ice, myriads of them, slowly melting,
Reflected upon their surface, images of you.
The ice is destined to melt, but can I bid it to stop?
Can I ask it to be there forever?
Covering me as it always did, to be my identity?

Cracks appear at the surface, light reaches my eyes,
And revealed to me, you, smiling with your open arms.
And I try to smile back, knowing that my tears will always remain hidden to you,
Frozen they are as red spots in the receeding ice.
For I may have only shed tears, but the ice has bled with them,
And as it now melts away, it leaves me dry,
But then I know, its only the ice that is always mine.

Ramblings. (if anyone can suggest a name pls do it.)

semi-darkness,
and i m buried beneath inches of snow
succumbed in the numbness of it I feel suffocated
fathoms above there is warmth and light; i know
but in womb of the dark I still await its penetration
but it never reaches me.........

The drops at the edges
keep dangling, perhaps not sure if to depart from its soul;
afterall what beauty lies in it without the desire to crystallise
how can i ask this ice over me to melt; to lose itself whole?
How can I wish it perdition; let it sacrifice its identity
only to set me free........?

mirrors of ice,
upon which as I watch my delusions slide down with the drop
I am shown refracted images which I refuse to recognise
Because I know the end, the ice is meant to melt, but can I ask it to stop?
Can I ask it to be there forever; covering me as it always did?
Can I ask it to be my destiny……?

Cracks develop at the surface,
as I try to leave, my tears get so embedded in the ice that it can’t see me cry.
But when I shed drops I am only crying, but the ice bleeds with them.
I am almost drowned in the drops now but frozen they leave me dry.
Untouched I lie there, heartbroken, I know the ice was never mine
But will it ever be?