Poet…

She taught me how to join syllables of sorrow
And string together letters of remorse
To create words
And arrange them to form a verse
A verse that speaks of a heart
Of which, Love made a Poet
And Time, a Rebel.
A verse that tells the story of a rebel,
Who owed her destiny to the merciless world
And her poetry to her own world
Every word she scribbled
Represented a rent on her own body
And an image of it on her soul
They said time heals all wounds
But what becomes of the wounds inflicted by time
Only she knew…
Her parchment was the hide of her soul
Her tears, her ink
With her mutilated existence as her quill
She created the most lamentable thoughts,
The most reproachful expressions,
Of the most unfathomable convictions…
They called it poetry
And christened her a poet
The poet who was born out of Love
And faded into Time
To evolve as a Rebel
She is the poet that lives inside me…
She taught me how to join syllables of sorrow
And string together letters of remorse
To create words
And arrange them to form a verse…

I know you can’t be mine…

Your voice belongs to someone else
Your words speak of someone else
Yet I converse with your silence…
Your eyes sparkle with the gleam of someone else’s love
Your smile blushes on someone else’s thought
Yet I look at you with loving eyes…
I know you can’t be mine…
Yet I love you nonetheless ever.

Your thoughts wonder far away in someone else’s world
Your dreams flicker in distance in someone else’s arms
Yet I can’t help thinking of you; only you…
Your memories cherish in someone else’s life
Your fantasies sneak out into someone else’s thought
Yet I spend every moment of mine longing for you…
I know you can’t be mine…
Yet I am and will remain yours forever.

Your days dawn in someone else’s sun
Your evenings bask in someone else’s moon
Yet my days and nights belong to you alone…
Your time fleets away waiting for someone else
Your moments pass by in someone else’s time
Yet I love to lose track of time, lost in your thoughts…
I know you can’t be mine…Yet I believe that in this life or the next, we shall be together.

The stolen poetry

A lonely statue on an isolated shore
Carved out of cold, forsaken piece of rock
Chiseling its rough, uneven surface
With the tool of unrefined ideas
Wiping the dust off with a withered hand
He continued to engrave feelings on a stony face
The thoughtful moon with its brows furrowed,
The creased surface of the shimmering sea,
Watched with a pretension of ignorance
The old withered hands,
Imparting their experience, a form
Their thoughts, a mould
Their imagination, a face
And their creativity, a person
The waves washed the discarded dust of rock
With a sense of unacceptance and left traces of fading foam on the shore
As a sign of satire; a mock
Some angrier waves beat against it
Indicating their dissupport to the intruder
The intruder that broke in on their serenity
The intruder that trespassed their tranquility
The clouds parted to reveal a clear patch of sky
That reflected the on-going creativity
Time stopped a few paces to look
At the pathetic display of humanity
The magnum opus of nature
Against the magnum opus of man
On completion of his work,
He stood and admired his creation
He had induced life into a piece of stone
It could sing for itself-
Sing for the skill and finesse of its creator
But at the crack of dawn,
The illusion faded into reality
The sculpture, disfigured and deformed,
Reflected the state of man
Man-God’s sculpture in stone
And poetry in the form of life
In his lust to exceed god’s creativity,
Surpassed His highest creation-himself
Now the poetry on stone that he created
Reflects the wrath that He inflicted!!

An autobiography of Solitude

I come even where I'm not let in
I walk in Silence
I walk with a heavy gait
I drawl on time and shadow thoughts
I bring hope
And at the same time, Disappointment
I bring memories
And at the same time a wish to forget everything
I am like a cloud
That thunders distant voices
Flashes shadows and rains memories
I am like a battered old book
That contains the secret of ages
Concealed in words of future tense
I wash one's world with darkness
Filled with flashes of familiar faces
And echoes of distant voices
I magnify Sorrow and multiply Hope
I am like a long lost friend
Who shares the deepest of one's sorrows
The darkest of one's secrets
And the brightest of one's hopes
I am unbiased emotion
I am an unfathomable expression
I am the immeasurable depth
I am an incomplete story
I am a complete world
I swallow not just the body
But engulf the soul as well
I am SolitudeI am a part of life
I am Life unveiled in its virgin form...

Without you

They say life is beautiful
With it’s vibrant hues
They say love is more so
When I look up with my broken heart…
I feel their words are untrue…
Life can’t be worse than what it is without you…

My summers scorch up what is left of my soul
The rains drain away the last drop of my tears
The autumns leave my heart drier than the falling leaves
The winters fail to freeze my bleeding heart…
They say time heals all wounds
But it renews this pain of mine
My wounds bleed afresh with every memory of yours without you…

My eyes yearn to cry; yet they are dry
Tears seem to have deserted them
Just as meaning has deserted life
Just as you have deserted me…
My agony is silent, my longing, expectant
Though happiness is lost, my hopes are not dormant
Where you left me, I still stand there waiting, without you…

I breathe in the air of your memories
My pulse throbs at your name
I walk about in your thoughts
I live a thousand deaths in every moment
Being alive is a different thing
Life is a different notion
Yes I’m alive…But far away from life, without you…