I stepped out… awake now in a strange clatter;
The clatter.. as raindrops fell over my wooden hedges,
And the rhythm overflowed along with the waters.
As I kept staring at the rain… now deafened.
I could see every image that the drops reflected,
Never before had I ever seen my world so clear,
All converged in a tiny droplet of desires….
Which is so small and yet so contending
That the thirst of ages could be quenched by its mere touch.
But I still kept just staring at the rain… thirstier but content.
Then they slowly dripped down my window
Only to get lost in the ocean of many…..
But as water merges in water… a life in life..
Is the loss a loss? Individualities are merrily sacrificed
To be what they were meant to be… an element of ocean.
And I kept staring at the rains… contemplating me.
The drops fall as explosions on the surface….
As new stars get born in the galaxies afar,
Being destroyed and created… all in mere moments.
Yes, just a moment… as the whole life was now but a mere moment.
No promises were made when past said it would return…
Or that the future would ever come……
So I just keep staring at the rain… uncertain what life would be..
Its’ not that my world was never so enchanting...
I was still captivated by the lividity of the sky.
Wondered of the colours that it had; the strange moonlight.
But I could now see them only through the drops…
How can a refracted world ever be so beautiful….?
How can beauty inspire the realization of another?
How can you keep staring at the rain… adoring the wet moors?
I know not where i walk.
My life was stuck in a rush hour… and I kept walkin past the nadirs;
‘Move on’… that’s what I always did; was always asked to do…
And I loved my small world of sworn faiths.
A world where the vision was blurred…
And the elements around were but as a mist…
As winds that blow fast by you… enclosing you all over
But never letting you realise that they were ever there.
Moving on and on now I had also lost my tracks;
I knew I had to walk and so I did… never questioning my roads.
But then suddenly questions did appear… at a strange subway
I was asked to wait… couldn’t leave without answering…
But I didn’t have them… I still don’t… and I knew you won’t either.
But then was the first time I had ever stopped…
The first time my vision had seemed so clear…
A world that I had never seen before was beside me…
A strange subway… huh… I know this isn’t my stop.
Can never be… I am not allowed to wait or leave.
But I am not waiting… its just that my worlds seem to revolve.
I am walking even faster now… but every time I walk past or ahead.
The esplanades rotate back to me… for me to walk upon them.
And I hate myself for not being able to cross them…
For the fears that reside so deep… unsaid and unheard.
That now I wish as we stand together in the oceans…
That the waters must split… the currents should rise…
And Moses’ stick must befall… leaving us waves apart.
From where I can see that world… in the mirrors of ocean.
And yet know that I would never be able to reach it…
I know that the world there doesn’t need me… but
Whenever you would turn to look this side…
The reflections will always be a merry image… however dark the world might be…………..
‘Move on’… that’s what I always did; was always asked to do…
And I loved my small world of sworn faiths.
A world where the vision was blurred…
And the elements around were but as a mist…
As winds that blow fast by you… enclosing you all over
But never letting you realise that they were ever there.
Moving on and on now I had also lost my tracks;
I knew I had to walk and so I did… never questioning my roads.
But then suddenly questions did appear… at a strange subway
I was asked to wait… couldn’t leave without answering…
But I didn’t have them… I still don’t… and I knew you won’t either.
But then was the first time I had ever stopped…
The first time my vision had seemed so clear…
A world that I had never seen before was beside me…
A strange subway… huh… I know this isn’t my stop.
Can never be… I am not allowed to wait or leave.
But I am not waiting… its just that my worlds seem to revolve.
I am walking even faster now… but every time I walk past or ahead.
The esplanades rotate back to me… for me to walk upon them.
And I hate myself for not being able to cross them…
For the fears that reside so deep… unsaid and unheard.
That now I wish as we stand together in the oceans…
That the waters must split… the currents should rise…
And Moses’ stick must befall… leaving us waves apart.
From where I can see that world… in the mirrors of ocean.
And yet know that I would never be able to reach it…
I know that the world there doesn’t need me… but
Whenever you would turn to look this side…
The reflections will always be a merry image… however dark the world might be…………..
emptiness
I enter the room and the walls keep staring at me
Long and hard…….. It seems they seek so many answers,
But I don’t have them……. The questions were often perditioned.
With nothing to offer…. I just walk within in silence
It was not that I was empty…….. just the eerie voids….
I keep sitting alone watching the larchen trees, the wind
And the hidden moon beyond….. and thoughts just come.
Beyond my own consciousness now, I let those thoughts exit my mind
And they form these verses, random and unsought…..
It was not that I was poetic……. Just the sultriness of night.
I step out and the raindrop falls right beneath my eyelids
And they in an instinct come down trying to hide it…….
But as they open, the drop slides again slowly; down my face…
It was not that I was crying…….. just the drenching rain…..
Long and hard…….. It seems they seek so many answers,
But I don’t have them……. The questions were often perditioned.
With nothing to offer…. I just walk within in silence
It was not that I was empty…….. just the eerie voids….
I keep sitting alone watching the larchen trees, the wind
And the hidden moon beyond….. and thoughts just come.
Beyond my own consciousness now, I let those thoughts exit my mind
And they form these verses, random and unsought…..
It was not that I was poetic……. Just the sultriness of night.
I step out and the raindrop falls right beneath my eyelids
And they in an instinct come down trying to hide it…….
But as they open, the drop slides again slowly; down my face…
It was not that I was crying…….. just the drenching rain…..
untitled yet
Livid…. That was how I was defined…
The colour blue describing identities that I held
As it also decribed the sky….. the vastness……. The freedom
So I knew I was born to be a vagabond….. to live for myself
But you spilled my colours and I was left stained
Red all over me……sparkling….. pristine
And you ask me what is it like…….?
“Like the glowing sun at the dawn?” No.
“Like the single petal that would slowly drown?” No.
“Like the feeble flame still sustained in the wind?” No.
No….. these do not define my easel now
It is a drop of red over my blue palette.
And they combine to form only black.
“Is it the colour black?....or betrayal of your own vision?
Why can’t you ever see the obvious…. The elements…. The plain answers
But interpret it only when they merge to form complexities?”
The colour blue describing identities that I held
As it also decribed the sky….. the vastness……. The freedom
So I knew I was born to be a vagabond….. to live for myself
But you spilled my colours and I was left stained
Red all over me……sparkling….. pristine
And you ask me what is it like…….?
“Like the glowing sun at the dawn?” No.
“Like the single petal that would slowly drown?” No.
“Like the feeble flame still sustained in the wind?” No.
No….. these do not define my easel now
It is a drop of red over my blue palette.
And they combine to form only black.
“Is it the colour black?....or betrayal of your own vision?
Why can’t you ever see the obvious…. The elements…. The plain answers
But interpret it only when they merge to form complexities?”
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?
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…………….
‘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…………
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.
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?
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?
REFLECTIONS ON THE MIRROR OF SURREALISM
"i don't know what my dreams mean...
will you come close and have a look??"
"come sir! and look at the river..see what it speaks to you
all that i can see is my reflection on its surface..
do reflections penetrate so deep......??
do the surfaces that reflect the masks i put on
enclose the lividity that reflects my true face...
yes sir!my very own face which now even i don't seem to remember??"
"answer to my questions sir! and i will charge no fare
as i would have got my answers then
so content,i would fight the waves to row you over there"
he stayed silent..... i heard not a word....
the only voices i could hear were of the squalling waves.
he simply stared at me; perhaps trying to....
conceal his contempt for my lunacy..."
i may be insane but my dreams are not.........
so i continued
"i have this nostalgia; a painful disease induced by the rivers
nostalgia not of a lived past... but of a past i never had..
i wish....hmm...no one ever had
i see myself rowing my boat, but there is no river,
no waves to fight, no tides, no shores
but all that exist are reflections.....
strange images of elements i have never known"
"are these the reflections of the evil within me??"
"they know every bit of me and so i hate them....
i don't hate the river; i can always fight it back..
neither of us having anything to lose...
it attacks me trying to prove its mighty vastness
and i fight back trying to retain my emptiness in me..."
"come sir! and look at the river..see what it speaks to you
all that i can see is my reflection on its surface..
but i can't fight them because they don't attack
they just remain there.......... staring at me
i hate them even more... despising every bit..."
"tell me sir...can one ever fight stagnance..??"
"answer to my questions sir! and i will charge no fare
as i would have got my reasons then
so content,i would fight the waves to row you over there"
he stayed silent..... but his lips curved in a smirk,
the distance between his eyebrows narrowed as in question..
questioning the sanity of my very own tale....but
again veiling his sattires of disbelief..
i may be insane but my dreams are not.........
so i continued
"i move across the room, pretending valor...
but i suddenly realise that there is no end,no boundaries
no starts, no dimensions....i know now that i am stuck in a labyrinth"
"come sir! and look at the river..see what it speaks to you...
because now i only feel frightened of the reflections..
i feel succumbed,evacuated,lost,...i break down
fall behind...lament...implore....ramble...squall...
i feel all the voices of the rivers within me"
"tears splash down on the featured miraged floors..
and even in its brevity of existence it creates a kaleidoscope of
a multiple reflections of reality and fears converging together..
my own tear; an element of the river..a part of me..betrays me..
but then....."
"i do see a silhouette arising from far;presuming it to be real
i call out for help,louder every time...choking myself through the silence
but the silence seemed so loud then....i yearned for commotion"
"what is louder than silence...?? can i ever penetrate??"
"answer to my questions sir! and i will charge no fare
as i would have got my definitions then
so content,i would fight the waves to row you over there"
he stayed silent too....huh..the idiocies of a human mind,
the strange fears and fantasies;the weirdness of human psyche...
thats what he thought of my strange tale...i could know because
not all reflections are undecipherable;and i could see his in the river.
i may be insane but my dreams are not..........
so i continued
"i shout trying to be a part of reality...
i struggle hard to separate myself from the elements
but then reflections are cast upon me too.....
how do i run away from myself?? and where to??
come sir! and look at the river..see what it speaks to you
as it speaks to me no more...perhaps it doesn't recognise me
as i had hurt myself now;trying to lose my own identity
i cry out to him because now i have nothing left in myself
but...... indifference walked past me...."
"perhaps he was no redeemer.. may be he too was a reflection;
an unseparable element of that very room.....but then if he is one
i am not to be afraid of him, because i know i can harm him...."
"no..! oh no...!"
"forgive me sir! but the waves are violent
the oars are rigid.....the wood is old and is wearing off
can't you feel the adamant waves...???
but don't worry sir,you would very soon be fine... "
"even in this situation i still wonder about my dream
trying to interpret it.................
whose reflection was it,sir? was it mine.......??"
"or was it yours...........................?"
"i have got the answers to my questions sir!
and i would now charge no fare....
for i have my interpretations now to hold;
for i have fought with the waves and rowed you over there....."
he would now remain silent,as another element in my room of reflections.
don't blame me or call me a devil! i m just a victim.
reflections; truth; clarity; reality; stagnance;
silence; indifference; i hate them all
and here they were all together...............
so you see,my lord! i never intended to end his life....it was self-defence...
i may be insane but my dreams are not........
so i continue!
"i don't know what my dreams mean...
will you come close and have a look??"
"come and look at the rivers.............................................."
will you come close and have a look??"
"come sir! and look at the river..see what it speaks to you
all that i can see is my reflection on its surface..
do reflections penetrate so deep......??
do the surfaces that reflect the masks i put on
enclose the lividity that reflects my true face...
yes sir!my very own face which now even i don't seem to remember??"
"answer to my questions sir! and i will charge no fare
as i would have got my answers then
so content,i would fight the waves to row you over there"
he stayed silent..... i heard not a word....
the only voices i could hear were of the squalling waves.
he simply stared at me; perhaps trying to....
conceal his contempt for my lunacy..."
i may be insane but my dreams are not.........
so i continued
"i have this nostalgia; a painful disease induced by the rivers
nostalgia not of a lived past... but of a past i never had..
i wish....hmm...no one ever had
i see myself rowing my boat, but there is no river,
no waves to fight, no tides, no shores
but all that exist are reflections.....
strange images of elements i have never known"
"are these the reflections of the evil within me??"
"they know every bit of me and so i hate them....
i don't hate the river; i can always fight it back..
neither of us having anything to lose...
it attacks me trying to prove its mighty vastness
and i fight back trying to retain my emptiness in me..."
"come sir! and look at the river..see what it speaks to you
all that i can see is my reflection on its surface..
but i can't fight them because they don't attack
they just remain there.......... staring at me
i hate them even more... despising every bit..."
"tell me sir...can one ever fight stagnance..??"
"answer to my questions sir! and i will charge no fare
as i would have got my reasons then
so content,i would fight the waves to row you over there"
he stayed silent..... but his lips curved in a smirk,
the distance between his eyebrows narrowed as in question..
questioning the sanity of my very own tale....but
again veiling his sattires of disbelief..
i may be insane but my dreams are not.........
so i continued
"i move across the room, pretending valor...
but i suddenly realise that there is no end,no boundaries
no starts, no dimensions....i know now that i am stuck in a labyrinth"
"come sir! and look at the river..see what it speaks to you...
because now i only feel frightened of the reflections..
i feel succumbed,evacuated,lost,...i break down
fall behind...lament...implore....ramble...squall...
i feel all the voices of the rivers within me"
"tears splash down on the featured miraged floors..
and even in its brevity of existence it creates a kaleidoscope of
a multiple reflections of reality and fears converging together..
my own tear; an element of the river..a part of me..betrays me..
but then....."
"i do see a silhouette arising from far;presuming it to be real
i call out for help,louder every time...choking myself through the silence
but the silence seemed so loud then....i yearned for commotion"
"what is louder than silence...?? can i ever penetrate??"
"answer to my questions sir! and i will charge no fare
as i would have got my definitions then
so content,i would fight the waves to row you over there"
he stayed silent too....huh..the idiocies of a human mind,
the strange fears and fantasies;the weirdness of human psyche...
thats what he thought of my strange tale...i could know because
not all reflections are undecipherable;and i could see his in the river.
i may be insane but my dreams are not..........
so i continued
"i shout trying to be a part of reality...
i struggle hard to separate myself from the elements
but then reflections are cast upon me too.....
how do i run away from myself?? and where to??
come sir! and look at the river..see what it speaks to you
as it speaks to me no more...perhaps it doesn't recognise me
as i had hurt myself now;trying to lose my own identity
i cry out to him because now i have nothing left in myself
but...... indifference walked past me...."
"perhaps he was no redeemer.. may be he too was a reflection;
an unseparable element of that very room.....but then if he is one
i am not to be afraid of him, because i know i can harm him...."
"no..! oh no...!"
"forgive me sir! but the waves are violent
the oars are rigid.....the wood is old and is wearing off
can't you feel the adamant waves...???
but don't worry sir,you would very soon be fine... "
"even in this situation i still wonder about my dream
trying to interpret it.................
whose reflection was it,sir? was it mine.......??"
"or was it yours...........................?"
"i have got the answers to my questions sir!
and i would now charge no fare....
for i have my interpretations now to hold;
for i have fought with the waves and rowed you over there....."
he would now remain silent,as another element in my room of reflections.
don't blame me or call me a devil! i m just a victim.
reflections; truth; clarity; reality; stagnance;
silence; indifference; i hate them all
and here they were all together...............
so you see,my lord! i never intended to end his life....it was self-defence...
i may be insane but my dreams are not........
so i continue!
"i don't know what my dreams mean...
will you come close and have a look??"
"come and look at the rivers.............................................."
Waiting for the fire.....
My senses seek a fire...
Not the fire of the woods, which spell destruction
Neither that of a flickering flame,hmm uncertainity
But the one that emerges out suddenly
Of the candle's molten peripheries...
Moving within radially, every moment in struggle
They finally perish, and if they won't
They are blown-off................
The jealous, unkindled air rushes through
And puts an end to the existence
Of that short-lived and yet the most luminous flame ever.
But.....No!!.........the fire hasn't died
Every element within refuses to accept an end
I saw it reincarnate and at that very moment
My own heat got merged with the flame's
I know that the summoned death wouldn't arrive
And that fire cocooned in sparkling wax would wait;
Wait....for another reincarnation and metamorphosis
And so would I...be here waiting.....
Not the fire of the woods, which spell destruction
Neither that of a flickering flame,hmm uncertainity
But the one that emerges out suddenly
Of the candle's molten peripheries...
Moving within radially, every moment in struggle
They finally perish, and if they won't
They are blown-off................
The jealous, unkindled air rushes through
And puts an end to the existence
Of that short-lived and yet the most luminous flame ever.
But.....No!!.........the fire hasn't died
Every element within refuses to accept an end
I saw it reincarnate and at that very moment
My own heat got merged with the flame's
I know that the summoned death wouldn't arrive
And that fire cocooned in sparkling wax would wait;
Wait....for another reincarnation and metamorphosis
And so would I...be here waiting.....
What do the seasons mean??
The life revealed me strange truths
And stranger they became everytime
What interpretation could I have drawn
From Nadir's subtending rhyme??
Did it mean end of a life??
Or did it mean beginning of a death??
Were the prophecies to be believed in??
Or was it all about the unearthly faith??
I thought I can explore.....
Can paint truth out of the blurred blues.
My worlds had seemed to me finite
And it was then that the morning was caught in a noose...
Still barbaric in thoughts, I couldn't accept the change
So I moved up, high in the rocks, out of sight
Misconceived that I would win......
I did trace back the warmth, but why was there so much of Light??
I climbed down,no longer feeling even warm,
Stood there, felt drops from the lake of cocytus falling upon me.
Was I a betrayer??? Of my own faith and life??
Or was it just raining down a distant sea??
I had now begun to feel a chilly numbness
And as the blood froze, it gushed out of me mortified,
Fell down,creating abstract red shapes on the whitest sheet
I got newer questions, interpretations underived....
I thought the world was about to end
So I promised winter to be by its side.
I knew that the snow is white
But why is it so cold and dark inside???
And stranger they became everytime
What interpretation could I have drawn
From Nadir's subtending rhyme??
Did it mean end of a life??
Or did it mean beginning of a death??
Were the prophecies to be believed in??
Or was it all about the unearthly faith??
I thought I can explore.....
Can paint truth out of the blurred blues.
My worlds had seemed to me finite
And it was then that the morning was caught in a noose...
Still barbaric in thoughts, I couldn't accept the change
So I moved up, high in the rocks, out of sight
Misconceived that I would win......
I did trace back the warmth, but why was there so much of Light??
I climbed down,no longer feeling even warm,
Stood there, felt drops from the lake of cocytus falling upon me.
Was I a betrayer??? Of my own faith and life??
Or was it just raining down a distant sea??
I had now begun to feel a chilly numbness
And as the blood froze, it gushed out of me mortified,
Fell down,creating abstract red shapes on the whitest sheet
I got newer questions, interpretations underived....
I thought the world was about to end
So I promised winter to be by its side.
I knew that the snow is white
But why is it so cold and dark inside???
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