Tomorrow, I love you tomorrow!

I’ve taken all the beating and t’was the final blow, would it be all right if I felt a little low? All my miseries are about to be laid to rest, and I know that tomorrow, you won’t be here to test. I’ve managed the ordeal, and you’ve delivered your sermon too, eventually, I’ll rise above and join the worthy few, so let me hold this fleeting moment in my palms, and bid goodbye to past with open arms.

Like setting a bird free?

Perfection is not in men, but deeds, the little intentions that fill up all needs. For perfect men haven’t existed in spirit and body alike, an Adonis at heart, with a flaw in the spirit slight? What maketh of man, if not his deeds, that only surpass and transcend creed. If I told you the secrets, as I held them dear, would they help me, conquer all fear?

Like putting faith in faith?

You’d fail and fall, and I’d be hurt too, but ignited souls, are only, but few. I too would fail, hah! That isn’t something new. Perfection is in character, to persona it is loosely bound, elsewhere it’d be sought, but would never be found.

It’s within, not without.

So fall down today, for it shall be the last failing, the seas will drown themselves, tomorrow we set sailing. With tonight’s moon out, let the miserable tides swell, past the night, the sea is ours to dwell.

A new euphoria fills the morning hereafter, ahoy!!

*** 

जीवन भी अजीब है न, हिरन कि भाँती | जीवन भर सार ढूँढ़ते बहार ही घुमते रहते हैं, और तत्व एवं सत्य है कि हमारे अंदर बैठ कर जीवन को महकाता रहता है, कस्तूरी की तरह | त्रिश्नायें क्षणभंगुर हैं, बुलबुले सी, अभी हैं, और अगले ही पल नहीं | परन्तु इन्द्रियों को तो बाह्य ज्ञान ही महसूस होता है, भीतर से तो केवल एहसास की अनुभूति होती है, जो इन्ही इन्द्रियों से व्यक्त होती है | भीतर अरण्य है, पूरी तरह से पत्तों से आच्छादित | एक पगडण्डी है इसमें, जिस पर हम निरंतर चलते हैं, और संकेत ढूँढ़ते हैं, बाहर |

Some voices never die.

To err is human, to forgive divine.

Much too often we’ve made mistakes which knowingly or unknowingly we are going to repeat, and yet promise not to make the same mistakes again. One of the mistakes that I often make and which I’ll correct here is to generalize what applies to me alone. Henceforth, I speak for myself, there is only ‘I’ and ‘me’ and no ‘we’ when making claims. Hence.

Much too often I’ve made mistakes which knowingly or unknowingly I am going to repeat, and yet promise not to make the same mistakes again and loop. 

Some mistakes are imbibed with birth, and are made when all other mistakes are being committed in succession and things are falling apart like the domino effect accompanied by a train of ‘Oh Shit!’s and curses.  

To err is in humans bred,

Doubt and fret, than to seek instead.

                                                                               

The wisdom of our ancestors was passed down in undiminished quantities through our genetic code. We have the combined wisdom of what our mothers and fathers had while our seeds were sown, and the wisdom that we gained thereafter on our own. It’s not forbidden to have it, but it’s never too apparent either, it takes a little something to decode a code, the piece of Eden some desperately seek.

I plucked the finest roses from the gardens,

Stuck them in pages and laid them on dry tombs,

While poets struck in them the finest tunes,

I in my naiveté merely hummed along.

I gaze at the prose and pieces written by poets and sit helplessly in amazement and wonder, with little success what might have prompted them to write something that continues to live long after their creators are sleeping cold, and what influence? They are subtle, powerful and the influence is still unabated.

The ciphers from distant lands,

Travelled far and wide,

To land up in unworthy hands,

For all their efforts despite?

 In the simple nuances of the forgotten poets do I find the clues holding promise to be the key of what I seek. What I seek, is something I am not too sure of, it is like looking across a waterfall and that is why I want to know it all.

Masters scrambled the words to conceal,

Roads leading to the treasure’s post,

Plain as the nature is, needs but plain sight to see,

The wisdom long gone, was never lost.

I’ve met people, I’ve liked people, and I’ve disliked people, formed opinions with what they looked like or behaved like. I like to believe that most of us live many lives, and seldom the real life. Even when alone, we are trying to mould ourselves, in a bid to outdo ourselves and become something that we think would make us better, but would regret sooner or later do to loss of intrinsic nature. But then again, I’d only want to talk for myself. I live like that. Part apologetic, part hypocritical, part proud and part self mocking. People mock me, I mock people, and sometimes wonder what made me like that? A little thing of beauty that semiconductors have taught me is that once they are doped, they become more conducive to be operated upon. They conduct more, and hence, react to little stimulus in a way they would have when subjected to their extremes when in their intrinsic states.

The cause of fall of Eden,

Just because of a tree?

That feels just so wrong.

They tell me to depart from mediocrity if I am to shine, and allow my heart and mind to judge, the feel and the sense. Don’t get me wrong if I hush myself after vehement blows. It’s not subjugation or diffidence; it’s not surrender, at all. I repair myself when no one watches.

To err is human, to forgive divine.

(Redundant, rhetorical.)

All in a game.

For once,

let us just pretend,

everything to be all right.

And while we pretend to forget,

the pain lets for once, forget,

to pretend.

Unfinished Lines.

Okay, am convinced. There was time and now it’s past its expiry date. I am not going to finish them, so am just dumping them out here in open, if somebody does it for me. So feel free to add lines to them and let me know the rest.

These are lines that started as status messages, and then curled up into few lines, then as prospective posts, and now they are but unfinished lines. Some of them may be complete in themselves, but I refuse to call any of my poems as poetry. Not even the ones I have published under the label ‘Attempted Prose’.

Here we go with a few finished/unfinished lines:

As the wind strikes my bosom, and passes me by,

We negotiate consequences, of what becomes of us,

Should the wind stop, die out, and lie there cold,

or should it carry me away, dissuading me from pursuit?

*******

The emotion mirrors itself in words,

And reading the words is gifted to few,

To draw conclusions from a minute talk,

He might be wrong, but who would tell.

******

I will sing the dirge,

While my city shall burn,

Like a shadow I shall fade,

For my day is done.

******

Cut through my layers, hack and slice,

I am the onion, you be my knife.

My wounds would make you cry,

But at least, 'tis worth a try!!

******

To every girl out there, listen up close!

When everyone complements you for being so cool,

When they say you set them on fire,

And that you invoke their desire?

Don't be flattered, coz I'm tempted to say to all of them...

LIAR, LIAR, LIAR!!

You look good when you look good,

And you look bad when you look bad.

Expect from me,

Nothing more, no less!!

******

From the abyss of darkest trenches,

there I now see a halo sublime,

In the darkness of the hollow oceans,

there I now see a shimmer, a ray of light,

Don't hold me down oh gravity,

its time I paid my dues,

With wings of hope as I climb,

to see the skies azure....

******

Sleep before it stops to rain,

sleep before its summer again,

sleep before the dawn breaks,

sleep before you wake!

******

First time to taste it,

second time to test it,

Thrid time to savour it,

Fourth time... nothing happened!

Darn!

******

They call me a bastard when they are no good,

they fein me like I have nothing right,

they fear me for being so wretched and cruel,

who are they to determine my plight?

*(I don’t remember writing this one)

******

END

Break Me, make Me.

1:            “Paint yourself for me to see”

2:            “I can’t, my hands crooked.”

1:            “Then sing yourself to me.”

2:            “It’s no better than a screech”

1:            “Intoxicate me with your touch”

2:            “I am a harsh flame, I burn”

1:            “Drench me in your rain”

2:            “I am a cold winter wind”

1:            “Let me in”

2:            “There are no slits”

1:            “There is no wall”

2:            “Nothing ever existed”

2:            “Pull me out”

2:            “Redeem me”

2:            “Purge me”

2:            “Revive me”

1:            “Make me a sinner!”

लिख के मिटाऊं, मिटा के बनाऊं !

कह दूं आज के पत्थर की लकीर हो,
कल मिट जाए तो अचरज क्यूँ ?
लक्ष्मण रेखा खींचने वाले ने भी न सोचा था,
बाह्य तृष्णाएं प्रवेश न कर पाएं,
मन विचलित कर रक्षित के कवच भेद देता है!!

मस्तिष्क रेखाएं खींच ले असंख्य,
मन उल्लंघन आतुर है,
चोट लगी थी कभी बीते कल में,
अब तो युग बीत चले होंगे,
शायद, इस बार कुछ अलग हो जाए!!

फिर उन पुराने जख्मों को कुरेदने का मन हो आया है,
देखें अब भी दर्द कि वाही तपिश बाकी हो?
कैसे अँधेरे थे वे, जिन में दफ्न हो जाने की चाह थी,
शायद पीछे छूट गए हैं वह अँधेरे,
आज बाहर से ही उनकी गहराई नाप कर देखूं!!

माचिस की लौ में देखा था एक चेहरा,
धूमिल प्रकाश में कभी कुछ उभरता,
फिर अँधेरे में लीन हो जाता था,
छूना चाहा तो एक हँसी छोड़ गया था मेरे हाथों में,
उजाले में आँखें मूंदे वही स्पर्श तलाशता हूँ अब!!
मेरा दुःख बड़ा ! नहीं, मेरा दुःख बड़ा ! कहते हैं सब,
दुःख को खुदा करने की आदत अब छूट चली है,
हृदय छोटा इसलिए दर्द बड़ा? अब सहज ही रहता हूँ,
देखो फिर से उन्ही अनजान गलियों में चल पड़ा हूँ फिर से,
फिर चोट खा जाऊं तो दर्द क्यूँ हो?



**हिंदी में पहली बार प्रकाशित कर रहा हूँ, हिंदी मेरे विचारों का पहला दर्पण है, पहला माध्यम है!
**First time publishing anything in Hindi, Hindi is my first channel of expression.

P.S. Hindi in english version is in the comments section, for my friends who are having trouble reading it in hindi script.

Miss You!

I know am not talking like I used to,

Not even talking much, that is also true,

And I know these things are hurting you badly,

But sadly, you ain’t able to say all these things to me,

But despite of that I know everything my sweet friend,

What’s going in your mind and what you going through,

Even I know, because of this you are feeling blue,

Because of me you are bearing all this pain,

And I know that I am not,

Giving you the time that you deserve,

Which is making you go insane,

I know it’s all my fault and am the only one to blame,

What should I do to apologise for all this,

Tell me what to do?

I love you honey, and all I do is miss you.

*A poem that a very dear friend of mine once wrote to me. The first one for whom I'd fight, the first to penetrate my defenses.

Crumbled?

Crumpled papers

With poems of you

Writ with words

That won’t ever come true

Ingrained on a fabric

That’ll never fray

The hopeful words

I wish, I could say

Hands still shaking

As I continue to write

Scribbling meagre letters

In black and white

Across this darkness

Blinded, as I wend

With these broken pieces

That I cannot mend

Eager to tell you

How I feel

Just praying I could prove

My love is real

Wait!

Inside these peels like onion,

Inside this carnal shell,

Sulks a lonely heart,

 Waiting to get hurt.

Craving for a bruise,

From its healer.

Now I’ll post it, even if they are just 4 lines. Got the idea from a beautiful blog while blogwalking. Here’s the link

http://poojaroutray.blogspot.com

When I was Young.

Oh I scaled those lofty mountains,
And plunged deep into ocean’s den,
I scathed the crusts of the snowy tundra,
And wandered in the Sahara, under the raining sun;

I hunted with the lions,
And hopped with the hares,
I soared with the eagles,
Like gulls, dived to hunted despair;

Bears and me, stole honey form the hornets,
Butterflies and me, danced along rivulets,
Sunflowers and me, raced from sun dawn to sun down,
Life didn’t care, and I cared no less;

Oh how I loved to play with myself,
Throw a ball high and go play fetch,
Oh how I loved talking to myself,
Sending postcards to myself everyday;

When I was Young!!

Adieu, My friend!

Treading on this road, there’s a curve approaching,

Unsteady gaze, pensive and unwilling, we give in,

As the world flashes by in front of my eyes,

I wonder, What becomes of us?

                        Why should I cry now, when we drift apart,

                        When there was no tear, when we once met?

                        Those moments shared, that uphill walk,

                        Our hearts seemed to be strung into the single thread;

How can I forget, that childish banter,

Those mocking scuffles, your chirpy chatter?

Over are those times when fighting was leisure,

And confiding little secrets, derived eternal pleasure;

Why should I cry now, when we drift apart,

                        When there was no tear, when we once met?

                        We fought, we got upset, but still held together,

                        There is no fight now, then what did happen?

Our paths, are entwined like a stranded helix,

No matter how much we twist,

No matter how hard we turn,

Our paths will cross, but never be one;

Why should I cry now, when we drift apart,

                        When there was no tear, when we once met?

                        Our roads diverge here, the curve’s been taken,

                        So till we next meet, Adieu, my friend!!

Awake !

As I flow in this stream of thought,

I fly high above the surreal realms.

As I ponder, over what I fought,

The futility of efforts, the aims I besought.

The higher I fly, the deeper I sink,

Knitting thoughts with fragile links.

But when dreams break,

 there is no sound, just a little pain.

Clouded mind sets to wonder,

Why my dreams are fleeting away,

Alas! Naivety and travesty,

Are all that I have got now,

As I crash, headfirst,

Into a state where I am

Awake!