Did what it can
Shattered my existence
Where do I begin?
How do I pick these pieces?
There is no ground
Under the feet
It’s all water
The roof over my head
Has blown off
Whatever I held close
Simply floated away
Some with water
Other with the wind
How do I get my life back?
How do I prove I am me?
How do I show?
Where my mud house stood?
It’s all gone
Either with water
Or with the wind
Did you hear howling winds?
Did you see the waves rise?
Those uprooted trees?
My uprooted life?
No, you wouldn’t notice
You were all locked in
Blind and deaf
Till they cleared it all
There is no sign left
Of howling winds
Of broken homes
Of my lost past
I too ask
Am I me?
Category: time
Spin
What kind of a spin is it?
What goes around, does come around
Yet, its never the same!
Laws teach nothing is lost
Yet, much cannot be retrieved
The top is also below
A walk on the mobius strip
In a world so self-similar
Nothing is familiar
For – What is, is never,
What really it is!
What we know, is actually,
Only the depth of the unknown
And that bond also decides the drift
Stuck on a blue planet in a vast abyss
Where war literally is sold as peace
I wonder,
What kind of a spin is it?
Lost Humanity
Scavenging under the rubbles
She looked for humanity
It was yet another day of
Strategic bombing
They tried to flee in vain
From guns and grenades
And bombs
And landmines
And beastly men
Death was everywhere
In every form
It caught up with all
Even those who escaped these
Troubled shores
She kept scavenging for humanity
Under the rubbles
Of the wasteland
Many died
For the sake of few
Who wanted to live
It was a lost battle
Under the rubbles
She scavenged
For dead humanity
The Blue Door
There is a blue door at end of the road. People say it’s the door to the happiness. One can hear laughter and songs, but no one is ever seen crossing the threshold. Neighborhood believes that all the peace and happiness has got locked behind the blue door. No one knows who has locked all the joy away but the sadness and anger that is left behind is quite palpable.
As one walks down the road, one can hear screams of the locked lunatic sibling coming from an attic of one house. They say he lost his mind over a girl who was forced to marry someone from her clan. From another house one can hear heart rending lament of a mother whose only child has gone missing. A misogynist cop rants and screams in the other one, ordering his wife and children who tremble with fear. A young girl screams hysterically in the next one whenever she hears a footstep, “They are coming for me. Save me.”
The town has a church, a temple, synagogue and a mosque where prayers are held daily. Everyone prays for peace and prosperity that they think is locked elsewhere behind the Blue door. They all hold each other’s faith in doubt. They all live in constant fear and pride of their gods. They fight and attack each other relentlessly. It feels as though they are compelling their gods to compete in a race to gain the highest glory and power of the land (just like they wanted the children to compete once upon a time). Sadly, they have managed to drive both gods and children away.
After prayers everyone returns to the little hell they have managed to create. The Blue door remains shut forever. In their fight, hatred and bigotry, the town has forgotten that the gods have left key to the door with them – the key that opens only when there is love and kinship.
Howling Winds
It was in the news
Cyclonic storm was on its way
They did what they could
To prevent the disaster
They monitored the eye and the tail
There it was circulating,
feeding on winds
And gathering momentum
It all seemed calm on the shores
Till the waves began to move faster
It came closer,
Sounds of the howling winds
Made it all real
Everyone knew
All preparations were made
All estimates looked good
But there was no way to assess
The damage it did
Young ones quivered in fear
Homeless knew they will be
Unaccounted ones
Lonely man walked on the street
Unaware of the perils
No one had told him to be safe
He took shelter under the very tree
That crushed him minutes later
Howling winds
Harbingers of death
Preyed on lonely, helpless
And homeless
Farmers lamented as
Entire harvest got washed away
No one realised
Storm was our harvest
By feeding Earth, wind and seas
Our anger, disgust, greed,
wastes, pollutants and hatred
Cyclonic storm just churned it all.around
And returned what we had reaped
With anger and vengeance
Winds, earth and sea turned hostile
Howling winds perhaps were warning us –
“Don’t be a bully
It all can all boomerang very badly!! “
Silence and the Darkness
When silence becomes deafening
And the words hide in the dark
Slowing erasing history
I try to figure out their forms
Or meaning or language
Nothing emerges
It’s a dark dense space
Nothing is visible
Nor is audible
I wait
Maybe words are being born
Maybe a new reality is taking a form
What if it’s a monster that’s in the making?
What if the silence is made of inaudible screams?
As the world looks away in faith
Blinded by the festive lights
I will hang on to my doubts
I shall still try to listen to sounds of silence
And try to peer into dark abyss
With or without hope
Chains of Liberation

You ask “Why don’t you dance with joy?
There have been infinite invisible chains around my feet
I never knew that I was supposed to undo them one by one
I kept them all ‘as gifts’
I waited for some loving hands to undo them
I didn’t know I have to undo them myself
One day you came along
And laughed at me…
You reached down my feet
But ended up adding one more chain
Now I struggle to undo them one by one
Only one of them can’t be undone
It’s the ‘chain of liberation’
Which you gave me as a farewell gift!!!
Strange
Strange is the light that blinds
Strange is the light behind dark shadows
Strange is the joy that inflicts pain
Strange is the love that teaches to hate
Strange is the life that must end in death
Strange is the meaning that is absurd
Strange are the dreams that cannot be real
Strange is the reality that is a dream
Strange are the clouds that don’t bring rain
Strange is the regret that hides the pride
Strange are the journeys that never end
Strange are the words that defy the form
Strange are the doors that never open
Strange is the religion that robs the faith
Strange are the bridges that separate
Strange is the war that is fought for peace
Strange are the journeys that never end!
The Storm
Light breeze kissing the leaves
Dancing waves touching the shore
Whisper to me
A storm is on the way…
I want to be silent
I do not want to burden the wind
For my words might trigger a storm
I wait silently for the storm to pass
Once again I shall be ready
To throw my words to the winds
1999
Juxtaposed
Man against man
Man against women
Women against women
Man against Nature
You against me
All of us are juxtaposed!
One defines other
One ends other
One begins other
On a dark night
We seek light
On a sunny day
We look for shade
Light and dark
Day and night
Love and war
Life and death
Juxtaposed!
Sad seeks joy
Happiness
Sadness
Juxtaposed!
Broken against
The Whole
Nothing can stand
On its own
It needs the other!!
You eliminate one
Other loses meaning
Yet the fight remains
Eternal!
Juxtaposed
One belittling the other
Forever!!