Tomb

gathering a city
in bits ... in pieces
filling up the boxes
with ages... pages.. of history

abandoned halls
broken mirrors
murky cellars
.. of a city lost!

caricatures,
now meaningless
knowledge lost!

a story untold
of the silent words
aged and brewed in the dark
for a century

This tastes just like destiny!

Ghost and the flame

He often compared
Darkness to Flames
Dwelling in dark
he would complain
"Selfish, elfish..
too brightly it glows!
must be ignorant
to be standing so bold"
But all it said in reply
was an answer so lame..
"The Lesson i have, is too simple to explain"

Aghast in his fears
he marched in dark corridors
awaiting the rescue
from the flame he now adored
"Take me..
Light me! delight me!!
It exclaimed..
For now I tire.. of darkness and its games"
But all it said in reply
was the answer in vain
"The Lesson i have, is too simple to explain"

Lost in his battles
he now wondered aloud
"what keeps you glowing
how-come u never run out"
He noticed with calm
"For I glow within you.. not about"

khayal

kuch toota hai kahin
ek sheesha sa ab mere dil mein hai

kisi ne khadi kari hai ek diwar
ab un tak pahunchna mushkil mein hain

hairat to yeh hai ki
dard nahi hai.. gam nahi hai
fir bhi khush rehna ab mushkil mein hai

Hidden

Unable to feel safe

i scout about

without being seen

without being sought

hunting for clues

for letting it out

surviving on grubs

i look about

they stand still

unable to hear me shout

i cry around

unseen unheard

trapped in a tragedy

striving to fly...

they call me a bird..

and i don't even know why..

chromaticity

hiding beneath the hindering light
out of my sight
they waver beneath
crying in delight
half-heartedly i look them up
shook them up.. as if in fright
myriad colours...
on a journey of abundance
sighing with every breath
these colours of delight
what i seek ..
is the colours devoid
of flavour, of passion
of wisdom and kinds
the colour of darkness
forgiving in its cry
i seek .. i peek at the
colour of the blind
and then i find
the colour divine
of beauty, of passion,
of freedom, of fight..The peace,
within the white..
the morning.. after a long night

What's the story morning glory... ;-)

Change of Seasons

{aching for you
is more of a habit
a morbid
sense of being i feel

but being with you
is suddenly tragic
trapping in itself
the emotions are real..

its not a change in season
i fear, its a change
in the memory of you

for loving you is a memory
a memory more lovely than .. you}

Vrindavan...

As the day passes by..
in the cosy sarai..
potentially waiting, for a cup of chai..
I heave out .. and.. sigh.

eras have passed it seems..
leaving this place untouched..
its the same old gali
the same old nukkad...

radhe radhe..says the little boy
offering me the magical words
along with a kulhhad full of chai

breathing through the vintage halls..
this city of magic.. the city of lords
brajbhoomi.. where Gods were born

the touch of 'now' is seeping in
tones of a bhajan..emanate..
as the mobile rings..
loudspeakers blaring the new hit remix

kajrare kajrare.. tere kare naina krishna..
.. :)

here i belong..
it is here that i am from..