let the whole world cry

its the dead of the night and the stars have dozed off  to sleep
only a few stray vigilantes remain awake,
like long lost souls with nothing else to do
they keep me company in mute cremony.

they are the ones who know all and see all
messengers of a formidable force, time
they see all the drama that unfolds under the night sky
and whisper their tales to the prostate, sleepy roads.

the trees are lonely like doomed boats out at sea
they lie in the midst of multitude, yet, alone forever
when the night is deep and dark as the bottom of my heart
when no light but the fire in my eyes and mirth of the stars shine
when even angels fear to tread, they call out in pitiful murmur
whispering their painful stories to the treacherous wind
who shall carry their sad stories to far and wide lands.

very far, across the roaring waves, a lonely oarsman struggles
Neptune himself shall not thwart him today for his love awaits
yet, cruel is the game destiny plays, for its Medusa that awaits
in the garb of Venus she beckons the poor man closer
until he shall have a heart as cold as she and never love again
let no bards sing nor flutes play for pain awaits us all that love
the treacherous wind, the roaring sea and the black sky can cry
for i shall not, never again,.

THE LONELY TREE

A lonely tree she stood waiting for me
Her bark was rough like a peasant’s skin
Her stem gnarled like a woman in nude
Her branches flew upwards beckoning the sky
A lonely maiden in the wilderness, only for me.

 

A lonely tree she stood waiting for me
Her foliage was green and fresh
Like a woman’s hair freshly bathed
She smelt of wild flowers and nature’s bosom
A lonely maiden in the wilderness, only for me.

A lonely tree she stood waiting for me
The lush green grass kissing her roots
The blue sky caressing her leaves with affection
The breeze within her branches a soft symphony
A lonely maiden in the wilderness, only for me.

A lonely tree she stood waiting for me
A princess from a fairytale, regal in appearance
I wished that I were a bird to alight on her branches
I wished I could build a nest and therein stay
A lonely maiden in the wilderness, only for me.

A lonely tree she stood waiting for me
Yet, I, in my hurry, had only moments to spare
With all her love she beckoned, I burdened with care
To my life I would return, hoping someday to return
A lonely maiden in the wilderness, she waits for me.

DREAMS AND DIMPLE KAPADIA

Time, they say, is the best healer. Well, in my case, I don’t feel too healed. Maybe not sufficient time has elapsed yet. I was with her again last night. Every night I try to forget her, the memories grip me tighter. This time she was sleeping in my arms as she used to love to do. Her head rested on my outstretched left hand, her soft face nuzzled in my chest. She used to love sleeping in this position, she said she loved to smell the dip of my chest. My other hand was slowly caressing her hair and she snuggled in closer and closer until two bodies were but one. I could feel the soft undulations of her heavy breast rise and fall with every breath she took. Her hands were ensconced near my abdomen – peculiarly this wasn’t sexual at all. She looked more like a fairy than human when she slept. So innocent were her closed eyelids, curved eyelashes, and the slight pout of the fine lips, the rounded cheeks and the small chin. Her hair fell askew over face and her nose flared ever so slightly every time she took breath – she dropped into a peaceful slumber. I used to spend so much time watching her as she slept that I can remember every slight contortion of her face and every curve of her balled up body in that pose. I kissed her lightly on her forehead first, then slowly on the cheeks and finally on the lips. At times, she used to love me when I did this, at other times she simply gave a low grumble and turned her back to me, indicating that she wanted to sleep and I was being a nuisance. Either way, I loved it.

Even as I replayed the whole thing in my mind, I could feel the acute sense of loss – as if even in my dreams she was slipping away from me. Reminds me of that song Madhavan sang in the movie, Rehna Hai Tere Dil Me, “Ek din bhoola doonga main usse, chahoonga na mai ussko, ja baata de uss patthar ko”. I slept very little all night, what with all my dreams and the bedbugs that seem to have a feast of my blood every time I am back from a couple of days hiatus. I waged war with them all night, killing a bevy of those little buggers, but losing my sleep in the process. When I woke up in the morning I was very groggy and I felt like I was having a terrible hangover. Went for my dental check up where the Maj Bharat Khanna took a whole lot of time to see me only to tell me that I should come back after one more month. He is one the biggest shammers I have met till date. Every time I go for acheck up he tells me to come back after a month. In the meanwhile, my teeth are going from bad to worse. It was not a total loss though. I had a great time looking at this lady who looked surprisingly like Dimple Kapadia. She accentuated her look by dressing up like Dimple and styling her hair in the same manner too. Well gain some, lose some.

GOD? NAH!

What have you asked from God this festive season? Oh, I guess you’re the type of person who doesn’t ask anything from god? Well! Now that’s not surprising because I happen to be the sort of person who never asks anything from god either. That is because I don’t believe in god. You can call it blasphemy if you may. Either ways I don’t care. The answer in today’s lingo would probably be “WHATEVER!" There is only one god on this earth and that is children. I know that many have said this before but just saying that the moon is the earth’s only satellite doesn't make it wrong no matter how many times you speak it out loud.


You know what I see in children? It’s the same thing I see in a mountain brook or a young sapling. They’re unpolluted by the world we live in. Its simple, really, and the fact is that they are the only people who speak and think alike. Now think of all the people you know and think of one grown up who can lay claim to this fact? I don’t mean you, of course, you holiness, but all the rest of them are tainted and polluted. We speak of so many things and none but we alone know what lies in our minds. If a child says something then chances are that nine out of ten times he means it. That is also why we fail to understand so many things that children say or do. We start polluting them by just laughing at their mistakes and simplicity. It teaches them that they need to hide whatever mistakes they have committed and to lie so as not to look stupid in front of others. We baby talk them and teach them its disgusting to be a baby and, in turn, they want to do all that we do. Nobody tells them that what we do have also been learnt from our adults who had learnt it from theirs and so on and so back. If only some one were brave enough to face up to this fact and tell them that most of what we do everyday is cheat others and the best cheater wins then we wouldn’t have so many lost souls.



How many teachers are there who haven’t cheated in their own exams or wouldn’t cheat today if given half a chance? How many of today’s parents try and teach their children all that they know are false and won’t follow at the risk of their lives? Yet, we keep telling each other, “Grow up!” or “Become mature.” Why on earth, I would like to ask, should I grow up? To become like the rest of the world, conniving and scheming. Sho shweet, hai na?