Corridors of dreams in your mind

Lonely spirits of desire on your skin

I look for mercy

In your speechless, hidden grin

My guitar burns, poems disappear

Like false history in your eyes

You look for victory,

Soulless life, in their quiet demise

Song - Forgive Me, Mother

Beyond the headless voice of music

I find nothing, but the cold rustle of death

In the language of questions and calculus,

There’s nothing, but Kini and the 22 frets

Forgive me, Mother

For I could never be your hero

Forgive me,

I could never love that mindless zero

Forgive me, Mother

I can’t be the way you want me to be

Forgive me,

Now I want to fly, I want to be free

Breathless spaces of time between us

My songs die every night at your feet

In the alleys of hope

And hopelessness, struggling to breath

Follow me for once

To the clandestine caverns of art

Allow me freedom, gift me life

So that I can convince my ailing heart

Let the hours chain me with only words

Dissolve your fears in platforms of love

Let the walls break like boneless trust

And let our stories build a heaven above

ADDICTION

cigarettes wine and the metaphorical call of weed 
I have always dreamt of evenings like this 
when we sit in a circle and indulge ourselves in narcotic games of fanaticism and hunger 
with the city busy surveying the bleeding chambers of reality by now 
I find my poems somewhere hidden inside the delicate corridors of these ignited leaves 
dusty lines riding the dark horses of pain and betrayal in my mind 
the evening rolls on 
slowly… 

and the dictator gifts me the September song 
strumming his guitar 
tempting me to hallucinate 

all evening 
I wait here 

her eyes floating in my mind 

her words racing 
with the drug stained 
arms of stolen time 

how could I not slay her then 
in the nightmares 
reminding me of forsaken desires? 


how could I not spell out 
the curse that I had so well rehearsed for her? 

O! I cannot bear these revolving thoughts anymore 

let me sleep now, 
and find this city hanging in mid air 
remembering the good times 

for they , 
sometimes , 
do make me happy. 

A SONG

Do you really think that our songs

Can ever change this world

This world of lies and folded mysteries?

Do you really think that those roses

Can ever free this world

Of the smell of dead skin and endless miseries?

Do you really think that the blue sky

Can ever save this world

From the curse of homelessness and poverty?

Do you really think that the winds

Can ever free this world

Of the stains of hunger which look so dirty?

Cause’ if you really think so

Then please come out and hold my hand

Cause’ I think you’re the only one, (my friend)…who’ll understand

That only love and beauty alone can change the times

And free this world of all the wrongs, murders and crimes

Do you really think that the moon

Can ever free this world

From the darkness of lost humanity?

Do you really think that the sun

Can ever guide this world

To the path of compassion and liberty?

Do you really think that the rains

Can ever free this world

Of the sins of the powerful and the greedy?

Do you really think that the trees

Can ever teach this world

The magic of brotherhood and sympathy?

The answer is Yes

The reply from nature will be disastrous

Do not take it for granted

LOVE IT

THINGS ARE DIFFERENT NOW

It has been quite a long time; things are different now.

My freshly brewed coffee,

Seems to have lost its aroma,

Or perhaps; I am still lost in your amul chocolate products!!

Things are different now.

The CCD Chocochips are less of a pleasure; less fun.

The intimate moments with the last choco chip flashes in my mind;

Picture frames with no rewind.

A faint smile fills my face,

A mockery, a soul cursing his fate; but that’s an entirely different story.

Things are different now.

The Reebok watch silver and black;

I carry it always,

Though it no longer finds place on my wrist;

As its each second reminds me of our Diwali after Diwali!

Things are different now.

My hair is falling!!

It’s not dense as it used to be;

With which you used to play around with your fingers

And quench my soul with its share of joy and tranquility.

Things are different now.

I have every reason to be happy.

But I still search for reasons to smile.

It has been more than quite a long time, things are different now-

Are they???

NOSTALGIA

Time has snatched..........moments unknown...

moments hv silenced....... the silent mown.............

i still live with those ............precious essence ....

may be true .......may be fake........

as now the essence of realization has creeped in........

the magnifiscence of those days days seem to fade..........

may be some day i ll help myself to realize.........

or may be i ll live with essence of hope........

the days i lost .....i knw will never be back......

but some how the essence remains.......

so remains grief of losing ........

somewhere beneath........still remains unknown hapiness

somewhere beholding the fragrance of some lost bonds......

well ....... life has moved on .....

time has ......engraved ....its shape ........

but some emotions still hold on....

holds on ........in my heart ......my nostalgia........

A SONNET

miles apart;yet so near

can't touch u though feel your presence

don't even get one of your mersmerizing glances;

but can feel those hairs like freshly spooled silk,

can see those eyes mysterious than depth of oceans:plugged brows

can sense those lips softer than half open buds of april;the slender arms'

her name speaks all.

my breath synchonizes with yours

u were unknowingly my torchbearer,my solitude;

my present perfect,my present.

but heart yearns for more it wishes u to be my future!!!

knowing all these will shatter some some day,yet it hopes that

gaps between my fingers will be filled by yours;

this heart is so strange an organ!!!!!!

HOPES

When your feet won't fall on my life ever again,

The sun would still rise though it wouldn't be sunshine.

My heart would sing but to cawing  of crows

Each new day, a new morn

Having nothing in common except for its bitterness.

When your feet won't fall on my life ever again,

The sun would still rise though it wouldn't be sunshine.

The cafe shop wouldn't crave for customers though.

I would too pay a visit, relishing old times.

The Hazel would still ring, but in wild tunes.

When your feet won't fall on my life ever again,

The sun would still rise though it wouldn't be sunshine.

The desperate farmer would still wait for the rains,

The old widow would still wait for son's return back home;

And I;would lead my life with a hope that you would come back soon with love.