Lamentations

If only light understood the dark,
If only the seas understood the ark,
If only water fueled fire,
If only depth took you higher,
If only dusk never seemed dim,
If only she understood him.

A Dream

“What is life?”, he asked me
And stunned me right there.
For I became a victim,
To this incredible affair.

But it set me pondering,
Unable to sleep anymore,
For there had to be an answer,
To this question, for sure.

That answer I did find,
Ironic as it may seem,
Although I was bereft of sleep,
Life is just a dream.

That is what it said, in
The book by Richard Bach,
And I seemed to believe it,
For, questions I did lack.

But, what did this mean to me?
That is what I sought.
This vast world have I created then,
With my incredible thought.

The white moon did I choose,
And everything that I “see”,
All of this “world”, and every face,
I am my God to me.

And there must be a million worlds,
A million minds at work,
Each one drawing its own lines,
With thoughts that run berserk.

And in this world did I choose,
For me to write this down,
As I imagined for you to read,
And maybe to astound.

Superhero

Awaiting my turn at,
The hospital queue,
Because superheroes
Are susceptible too,

A call I received,
From a person unknown,
Inviting me just then,
To a place thus shown.

There was something in the voice
I had to fear,
It surely did not seem
Like that of a peer.

Prepared for anything,
I made the flight there,
But, Something kept telling me,
I should’ve been more aware.

My mind thought of the time
When I had a wild swing,
Why had I been so unwise,
At my first meeting.

Well, there was no time to think,
‘bout all that was done,
I had work to do now,
An enemy to stun.

At first glance it seemed,
He was not there to fight,
Because he was dressed,
In clothes of pure white.

But when he showed his sallow teeth,
And opened his red eyes,
A disfigured fairy he seemed,
An angel in disguise.

He but allowed me twice,
To thrust my sword at him,
‘cause after that my body,
Was moving to his whim.




My arms just dropped down,
Like branches from a tree,
My feet too gave way,
And I couldn’t even see.

One by one, my senses
Started to fall apart,
And my part of the fight,
Did not even start.

It was unusually clear,
As I lay facing hell,
I wanted an answer from him,
Even as I fell.

His name I did ask, and
It resounded in my ear ,
“AIDS” came the reply,
Relieving me of all my fear.

The Ride

The bird comes flying,
Gliding through the sky,
It stops at my door,
As it passes by.

It peers through the window,
A glimpse at the “next one”,
I am forced to wake up,
My journey has just begun.

I know not where I go,
Nor where I shall have to stay,
Because I’m just going,
Where life makes its way.

The bird may sometimes fly,
High up in the air,
For that is when you think,
That life is just so fair.

But sometimes it may drown,
In the great waters blue,
Giving you a chance,
Your life to renew.

Wherever the bird takes you,
Whatever you go past,
You can control the destination,
If you don’t move too fast.

Now's the moment

When the words are left, at the tip of your tongue,
The song that you wrote, but left unsung,
When you’re not able, to express your love,
For the time’s not right, not right just now.

The words of thanks you are afraid to tell,
After all that she did, when you were unwell,
A kiss and a hug, for a person so rare,
But you are struggling, to show that you care.

You may do it later, once you’re ready to face,
But they shall have no meaning, when the moment escapes.

Sculptors of the Heart

"Inside" Out

Have you ever thought ,
Of the world being inside you ?
The skin being the boundary,
Between the false and what is true.

What if you were the “outside” ,
Not what you believe.
The “outside” is now the “inside”,
Not what you perceive .

Oh!, What shall happen then ,
Of the “body” , the soul annoyed?
We may see it differently then,
For now, lets call it a “void”.

The ears would hear “your” inner soul,
That “your” calling you may attend.
The eyes shall be an instrument,
To see “yourself” my friend.

The “world” as you know it now,
Shall be a different place,
Of no “human” action or expression,
Will you ever find a trace.

No heroics or acts of war,
No battles, no victories, none.
Because on the face of it all,
We shall all be just one.

This may seem a dream portrayed,
Nothing that is “seen”.
That’s the beauty of the “human mind”,
If we had believed, it could have been.

Heaven on Earth

If you could touch,
And make a change.
A disarrayed life,
If you could arrange.

If you could search,
And find yourself.
If you could be one,
With the world and the self.

If you could see,
Your thoughts come to life.
If you could remain,
While change is rife.

If you could look up,
And reach high above,
And to never look down,
If you could avow.

If in a mirror you could stare,
Straight into your eye,
And speak only unto yourself,
Yet not say a lie.

Then shall the heavens,
Seem ever so nigh,
Mark my words my friend,
You shall never die.

Bright 'n' beautiful

I look out at the stars,
As my world outside moves .
Confined to this box am I,
Galloping to the sound of hooves .

In my thoughts I wonder
What these stars mean to me,
Are they just a signature,
That we’re always reminded of Thee?

Or maybe they’re the sentinels
Of the brilliant fortress white,
Spread around ‘cross the sky,
Displaying all their might .

Or maybe the ships that sail,
Through the sea, we call ‘night’,
Making their way safely through,
By their lights just so bright.

Maybe they are a sign of love,
From a brother far away,
Appearing when things get dark,
Disappearing when its day.

But before I think much more,
The answer seems to shine,
Brighter than the stars themselves,
It is all so divine.

They are there to remind us,
Life is as we see it too,
You just join them differently,
You have a picture just so new.

A tryst with destiny

Dark clouds and whispering angels,
This is what I see,
As every night, I sleep tight,
Just to be free.

The white mountains and blue skies
Fall to their knee,
As every night, I sleep tight ,
Just to be free.

The sun goes down ,the moon doesn’t rise,
Things you may never see,
As every night, I sleep tight,
Just to be free.

But now, as I sleep, I start to believe,
This, forever will not be.
That one day I shall break all chains
And fly over the sea.



The cool winds whisper in my ear,
Songs of love to thee,
As this night, I sleep tight ,
Knowing I will be free.

The bright sun and white stars
Are, but pearls to me.
As this night, I sleep tight,
Knowing I will be free.

The sound of water , the scent of the mud,
Oh! I cannot believe,
As this night, I sleep tight,
Knowing I will be free.


The light shall rise, and drops shall pour,
Giving me a day to live once more.
Because as I rise with the rise of the sun,
I know I’m slave to none.

The eye of the beholder

Winter's end and summer is nigh,
Not a cloud seen, in the sky.
Soon it will be, time for spring,
The nightingales have already begun to sing.

The sky seems blue, the colour of joy,
The river plays about ,the sand being her toy.
Trees dance together, to the hum of the birds,
The young hearts run away, away from the herds.

My heart beats louder, calling out to my love,
There...she answers me, as she calls out to me now.
Oh...its just the sound of leaves talking to each other,
I haven't found her yet, why doesn't she call back, brother?

Clouds suddenly appear and pour down drops to the Earth,
The clouds are not dark, but white across their girth.
The wind blows about, as my ropes of doubt untie,
It whistles in my ear, as it passes me by.

I learn a valuable lesson, from the image that I see,
That love on this Earth, has always been for me.
It, but lies in the eyes of the beholder,
The beauty of love, strikes the young and the older.

The moon does change form, attracting the oceans of the land,
The waters cannot rise high though, withheld by the love of the sand.
The wind blows about, searching for itself in vain,
If it only could have known, only love for another can gain.

The clouds talk to the sun, through the thunderous sound,
Through he raindrops pouring below, its joy it does expound.
The Earth receives the water, an unfailing task,
Oh...love of a better kind, how could I ever ask?

When you smile and when you sigh

When you are walking through the darkest of nights,
When the road is deserted and there is no one in sight,
When you need a shoulder to rest upon,
When your tired feet simply refuse to go on,

It is then that you remember someone called a friend,
A magical person, who, to your wounds will tend.

When you celebrate the happiest day of your life,
When you have recovered successfully from a strife,
When you want to expound your love for someone, awhile,
When you have no reason, but you just want to smile.

Don't forget your friend who helped you turn a new leaf,
He is there to also share your smiles, not just your grief.

The Calling

In the darkness of the moonlit night,
I see a shadow, loom by the light.
His eyes are pale and his face is dark,
His hands are wrinkled, the sight is stark.

His eyes seem deeper than the greatest ocean,
They have a story to tell,to prompt me to action.
Suddenly, I realize, he is not alone,
There are many like him, he has brought into my home.

Like the great waves of the agitated sea,
The sight of it wont let me be.
My mind starts to travel, far and near,
Thoughts of it , instil in me, a fear.

Although each one has a story to tell,
They stand there quiet, like they were in hell.
They look at me with indifferent eyes,
Not a groan on their lips, no cries or sighs.

And then it strikes me, I understand it all,
These are my people who stand before a fall.
They are being led without a leader,
They need my help and hence they come hither.

My mother is sick and she calls upon her son,
I must go now,for my mother doth beckon.
What a fool am I to let her reach this state,
I am the one to be blamed,not that poor Fate.

If you dont understand what I do say,
Look deep in your heart ,search for that hidden bay.
There will you find her,She'll never cry out loud,
For she is your mother,your motherland so proud.

Awaiting the Mahatma

What remains is a path
Upon which time has played her tricks,
Shrouded by the enemies of man-
Deception, deceit and treachery.

A path which great men trod upon,
Waving their magic wands,
Making princes of frogs and roses of furze-
Leading a revolution.

What a time that was,
When greatness knew no bound and malice but lay asleep
In the darkest parts of the world,
Awaiting its time.

And yet, what a world have we come to,
Where every man is to himself,
And for humanity there is none,
Where love, can but perish, while hate copiously exists.

When the myriad of faces
Look down upon us and ask,
How shall we answer them?
Should we hide our scarred faces in the dark?

Oh! There goes the bird o’ peace,
Soaring away into the sky,
To a distant place we know not,
Never for us to come by.

Now the time has ‘risen,
For us to find that path,
Etched with words and actions of wisdom,
And bright rays of light to dispel the dark.

As we wait for another man
To deliver us from this quandary,
We bring upon ourselves, the walls of doom,
Oh! Won’t the Mahatma come back soon.