Near You...

Again comes one of those days
When the world sleeps and I wake
To gaze into the starry,moonlit sky
And speak to someone, who wont reply.

You come near me as the chill of the night
And caress my face with the hands of breeze
Here,in your lap, I feel comfort
As through locks of my hair,your fingers release

I recapitulate the moments we shared
Those countless times when we felt so near
Before fate could draw us apart
And, from me,you had to part

Now memories, like the moon, follow
Behind me,wherever I go
Reminding that you are ever so close
No matter how much the time erodes...

Under their wings

To the farthest distance, that vision can trace

In the aura of green, the earth lies immersed

And the squeaks of morning birds

Render melody to my ears

 

A mother bird, calling for her child

Searching every tree that he might hide

Two others, together, a pair

Arrive nest, with their night’s share

 

Yet another, screeching in shrill sounds

Warning them all of an enemy around

Many, floating on this vista, serene

As if saying, “These don’t affect me.”

 

But somewhere above,

Still flies a cunning hawk

Watching and waiting

over the humble flock.

Solitude

Like the calm of a docile,tideless ocean

With gentle and floating waves of thoughts

That sweeps mildly on he shores of mind

To shower their bliss in solitude

 

But man is bent on living in his thoughts

Thoughts, that always guide him along

Most of the time through the roads of past

A journey,so distant and long

 

Solitude may sometimes bring oodles of joy

When memory opens its colourful window

To show you the times that you had enjoyed

And takes you back to the people you love

 

It opens the treasure of those precious moments

So that you can rejoice them once more

And revive the vague faces on the canvas of mind

The portraits of those wonderful people they once bore

 

Solitude is sometimes a longing for them

Who,you know, may never come

Still you wait in a hope that they arrive

So that it’ll come as a pleasant surprise

 

You know that it is madness all way long

But solitude always forces you to long

For something,which you know wont occur

But the longing persists and recurs

 

When the wishes slowly turn into sorrows

The grief of loneliness touches your marrow

And like ripples in a still pond

The tides of pain retreat and mount

 

The scars of the old wounds of heart

Burst open again,giving a fresh start

To one of those endless moments of torture

That the mind seems so keen to nurture

 

The hush of the ocean becomes disturbed

Turbulent storms of agonies whimper

The silent thoughts give away

To cries of despair and dismay

 

Tears that roll with a useless hope

That some arm may be kind to wipe them off

But the cruel hands of monstrous loneliness

Can only squeeze necks, not caress.

Another old song..

Memories that give colours to my solitude
Voices of past,filling my silent room
Your gifts, that I'll treasure a lifetime
They'll be my possessions,most priced

An anchor that binds my boat of thoughts
From drifting away into turbulent seas
A confidente, I pour my soul to
When this big,bad world threatens me

Keep me bound in your thread,invisible
For my still mind is easily rippled
Dont let go,even if I say so
For any other way, I dont know.

Where the mind is without fear...

The other day,I was teaching my 8th std cousin this poetry of Tagore...

I was overcome with delight at seeing this poetry in his textbook,as it was one of my favourites,when I was a student.It took me back to those days when such simple things as poetry could touch some chords of your mind and make an ever lasting impression.And I began to teach with all the zest and zeal I would've felt when I myself heard it first.

The poem itself being simple and easily compehendible, I did not have to take much effort to teach him.But when my eyes fell on these words,I was a bit stuck. "Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way into the dreary desert sand of dead habits"(Note: Not good habit or bad habit, but "dead" habit.) I was not sure how to explain.So I thought a bit..

Then I told him "A habit is an action done spontaneously,without really thinking, "He asked "Why then dead habit?" "Of course!!! 'Live habits' should be ones that must be guided by a clear stream of thinking about its cause and consequences.Otherwise they are mere repetition of some thoughtless exercise.Hence 'Dead'."

And that set off a train of thoughts in my mind."How many things I do like that? At work?At home?Where is my clear stream of reason? Dried up long ago, Isuppose, by continuously flowing in the desert sands of dead habits." That,I feel, is the impact every good piece of art has on you. It just makes you rethink those truths that you had always ignored.

Immediately I took piece of paper and copied down the entire poem. My brother asks"Why?" and I say " I liked it very much." After copying it I was about to ask him to do some exercise given at the end of the poem when I find him sitting transfixed.I ask him" What happened? Why are you sitting like this?" He says" I was trying to memorise the whole poem, though it is not there for the exams".

Hats off to you,Tagore,for such an inspiring work...

If you had really loved...

Love, They say is a double edged sword
You can hurt yourself,you can hurt others
Try and use it to defend your world
It shields your soul from all bad weathers..

Energy to live your life to the full
Inspiration,to dare and show your skills
Refreshing memories, that all wounds of the heart fill
Amazes yourself, showing what you are able...

Then what is it that you mourn and cry for?
Unfulfilled desires? egoistic joys?
Why do tears from your eyes pour?
For the rare blessing,that life has bestowed?

Loneliness, Again...

Loneliness,the pain
Coursing through every vein
Filling my eyes again
And I fail to restrain

As some unknown grief
Tightens its ugly grip
And in a moment,so brief
Erases smiles off my lips

The mind fills with shadows of doom
As I await in this gloom
For something to break this wall
That between me and the world,stands tall.