Break the barriers of history, of memory.
Move on, flow like the petulant stream.
Wash the sins, the guilt of a past bygone
Rediscovered, be a new human being.

Let not the passions burn unhindered,
Let the forest of your soul not be burnt.
Let not your indiscretions cage you,
Let them not bind you, make you cry.

Make this move today, to a happier place
Forget those who came, just move on.
Leave your old wrinkled skins behind,
Put on the robe, the king of your life!

When the emptiness starts screaming,
When the mind seeks distractions.
When motion and voice are soothing,
Perhaps there is need for a re-think.

If the self cannot find peace with itself,
If it always seeks worldly confirmations.
Then perhaps it is time to introspect,
To shred the baggage of confabulations.

The lenses of opinions to be discarded,
The burden of memories brushed aside.
The voices and views be irrelevant,
Then, perhaps, the truth will emerge.

What if the relentless sweeping sands of time
Had not eroded those moments, that phase?
What if our battles with the world, individually
Had not separated us with this blinding haze?

What if those beautiful moments lived on,
Not only in our memories, but every day?
What if you were here, sitting next to me
Would it have changed what I have to say?

What if the warmth of your love lived on
Would it have made this life tolerable?
What if we had never been separated
Would impending death have been honorable?

I wish these 'what ifs' did not torment me,
Keep me awake at nights, restless, motionless.
But when will my mind stop chasing them,
When will eternal peace visit my uprooted home?

The breath separating from my body,
The darkness, the fume-filled drudgery,
The faint light creeping into my dark house,
The lights of Diwali aren't meant for me.

The inner world in a futile effort at peace
Against the ostentation of the world outside.
For not being able to breathe, able to see
The lights of Diwali aren't meant for me.

I want to cry, to feel the numb pain.
Want to feel the tears, be human again.
Want to hate everything about my life,
So that the joy of living I can regain.

I want to fail, land back where I started.
Want to be hurt, bruised; struggle my way.
Want to feel success as a distant pipe dream,
So that with the humility of failure I stay.

I want to love, to be disappointed again.
Want to be blind, to make a person my life.
Want to crash when that illusion is broken,
So that I can ignore the world's endless strife.

Perhaps somewhere in the darkness of night,
Maybe among the radiant beams of light.
I search, fire in eyes, for that part of my soul.
The part that was lost in pursuit of this goal.

I walk from home to home, shelter to shelter
Searching for the warmth that I now miss.
But like a perennially unfulfilled traveler
This water doesn't quench my thirst, my soul.

In these dark routes joining my moments,
I look backward, and into the future.
But for as far as my eyes can go, can see
There is the fallout of what I've come to be.

The fear of ambiguity, the fear of the unknown
Eating away at the roots, leaves the heart rotting.
Like an impending death sentence, it crawls
Stealthily, constantly; seeps into the blood.

There is finally a weariness, a slump
The vision is blurred, is distorted.
The feet have lost their vigour, their drive.
The eyes have lost their shine, their hope.

There is now a darkness, a sadness
The flame of life is extinguished, is exhausted.
The face has lost its innocence, its smile.
The hands have lost their power, their stride.

I seek you, more than I have ever before
To come and rejuvenate me, save me.
These cold steel chains grasp me, enslave me
I want you to look me in the eye, into my soul.

Away, I sail far away from you
To a world free from your memories.
To a land of discovery, of excitement
To an ocean of infinite opportunities.

Away, I move far away from myself
To freedom from my own ideas, thoughts.
To a river, moving furiously forth ahead.
To a dream, where everything is new.

Away, I am swept away from life.
From everything I ever knew existed.
From everything I believed was true.
And from the person you made me be.

Can't live with, can't live without

With you, my wings are clipped.
My head hung with humility, shame.
My feet heavy with broken promises,
My mind lost, in pursuit of freedom.

Without you, my body is without soul.
Everything is without joy; is colourless.
The days are longer, nights lonelier.
As if the world has come to a halt.

And here I am, stuck between the two.
Not knowing where to go, what to do.
But the one thing I keep is the love
It enlivens me, with or without you.

पुकार

आज िदल िफर घबरा उठा
खोजने लगा वही चेहरे
जो एक याद बन चुके थे
जो िज़दगी छोड़ चुके थे ।

सब छोड़ के लौटना तो चाहा
लेिकन िफर याद आया िक
बहुत आगे आ चुके है हम
उनसे दूर जा चुके है हम ।

आज न है वह शीतल स्पर्श
न रही वह मीठी टकरार।
रह गई बस यादें कई
और यह नम आँखे ।

The Quiet River

On this quiet riverside I sit; wishing
That my life was different; hoping
That there was someone to save me
To give me warmth on a cold night.

As the river moves on a path well known,
I yearn for someone to hold my hand.
Someone to save me from the biting cold
Someone to touch me, and save my soul.

Someone to fight for me, cry for me
Laugh with me, get pointlessly angry at me.
Someone for whom I could leave the world
Someone who would make me forget.

My heart bleeds, the cuts are deep.
But perhaps this punishment is just.
Perhaps it's the best - for you and me
Perhaps ... Perhaps I still love you.

This silence makes me hear
The blood flowing in my veins,
The air, in and out of my lungs,
Even the motion of my hands.

On one hand, I feel trepidation.
Fear of not having anyone around.
Fear of passing days in solitude,
Fear of  letting things die within.

And then I think, what is this for?
Were people mere distractions?
Was this a stage; a hobby to kill time?
Why do I fear being with myself?

I have no answers as I think today.
One day, perhaps, I shall have them.
I want to live life free of fears,
To be alone is the biggest of them.

A broken glass; broken man inside
His skin sagging from years of toil
A frown, due to life's difficult ride
Waiting blithely for the next tide.

A tide to wash away memories,
Another to drag him into the sea.
Where death awaits with open arms
Where depth hides its charms.

Today, the man is dying with hope
Waiting, patiently, for an absolution.
An absolution that is to never come
For the heart isn't yet quite ready.

Not quite ready to move on,
Not ready to forget that moment.
That moment of blood, of pain
Sticks today, an permanent stain.

This silence, it returns, it haunts.
It reflects on the pool of the past.
It travels the hollows of promises,
The shallows of trust, of love.

This silence, my friend of past, today
I stare blankly at its new familiarity.
What had once left me, returns today
A familiar pain emerges in the heart.

The inescapable tragedy of love
Now playing in the theatre of absurd.
Then, there was the shade of dark death
Today I am naked in the snide sun.

I walk away, knowing that you're waiting.
And it probably hurts me more than you.
But my sacrifice today will open the gates
For joys for you; perhaps for me too.

I accept walking in the shadows today,
So that you and only you get the limelight.
I accept being an old, fading star today,
So that your starry journey makes a start.

How much blood my veins carry I don't know,
Don't  know when the dam of patience will break.
I live today, I die, eat, love, hate, pray today.
Tomorrow's sun I despise; it's promises I don't take.

Several miles are yet to be walked,
Several journeys yet to be undertaken.
Several sunsets are yet to be seen,
And several nights of waiting for sunrise.

Several dreams yet to be sewn together
From the shattered pieces of the past.
Several tears and smiles, several moments
Are yet to be lived, yet to be breathed.

Several hearts are yet to be mended,
Several bonds are yet to be formed.
Several victories are yet to be discovered
From the giant waves of challenges.

Several stories are yet to be made, told
Several dreams yet to be fulfilled.
Such that in the distant past, you sit,
Look back and say it was a life well lived.

The eyes that don't want to meet,

The hearts that don't say sorry.

The ego that is too big to bend

The lips sealed by years of hurt.

Something has to fall, has to give in.

First the citadels of ego, perhaps.

Then maybe the screens of the past.

Only then, finally, can hope be born.

The hope that will fill colour again.

The hope that will make life bearable.

The hope that promises joys galore,

The hope that will make a happy end.

When the muck of dashed ambitions

Makes the unending walk of life tough.

When the see-saw of joys and failures

Makes the head rest heavily on the body.

When the going gets tough and hopeless

When the remaining path seems so long.

Then stop; stop this internal warfare

Stop this race, this roller-coaster of life.

Let the mind step back and breathe easy.

Let it re calibrate, let it be in judgement

Of what is important, what it likes

And of what was done only for the 'race'.

Hold back, this violent stream of ambitions

Harness the energy of this blithe restlessness.

And then one day, when the time is right

Let go, in majestic fashion, this energy.

The great storm came that dark night
A giant specter enveloping the sky.
I stared emptily, no fear or anguish
The pain, however, made me cry.

Today, as the storm is well past me,
As my ship sails at melancholy pace,
I look back at the lessons I learnt
At what I lost, what ahead I take.

The storm robbed me of my heart
Of my soul the essence it stole.
The storm gave me a steely resolve
It set me on an irreversible goal.

The storm stripped me naked.
My dignity, my shelter it took away.
The storm freed me from fear
With me this fearlessness shall stay.

My words to me now seem hollow,
Without love, they have no rhyme.
But the hope and the swagger is back,
And with it, I move ahead onward.

The life, the blood, the endless stream of love.
What else did I have, what else could I give.
With the farmer's hand, hardened with toil
I planted this land, once fertile, now barren.

The question 'what if' still torments me.
And a part looks back, into the past bygone.
Yet, one part races right ahead, it says
No more; no more could I have given.

No more a life to be judged, persecuted.
No more a life lived in shame, in fear.
No more anger, no more love, joy;
No more will these eyes carry tears.

The beginning, those tentative steps.
Then came the dance and the flourish.
And yet, when the dust finally settled
It was back to the beginning.

There was a judge, a jury and a trial
Yet no words said, a judgement passed.
There were memories galore, and yet
It was back to the beginning.

The good done, interred with the bones
The bad, bleeding wounds on the mind.
There was celebration, of love, and yet
It was back to the beginning.

The future today, as lonely as years ago
The heart an empty ground of bloodshed.
And yet, a tiny seed of hope emerged
Perhaps it is a new beginning.

The sins of the past washed by tears,
The start line has been redrawn again.
With the pain in my heart I will run
Perhaps it is a new beginning.

Tall promises, now belittled by time
Firm faith, now shaken by doubt.
The words, they now ring hollow.
From a cauldron so full, so shallow.

From dust to dust, then further on
I move, drag my feet, plunge, fall.
I hurt, I cry; but life doesn't stop.
Then I awaken, to a new 'morrow.

That palace of illusions, of dreams I built
With own hands. Nurtured, strengthened.
With sweat, watered. With love, adorned.
Gave it everything I could ever give, ever.

Yet that very palace, I later discovered.
Was sunny in day, but very dark at night.
The protection I had once hoped for
Was unfortunately never there, never.

Then one day when the storm came,
It took that palace of illusions too.
The palace I had spend my lifetime for
Was nowhere in sight, gone forever.

Then one day, as I sat down to cry
I realised, what I should have long back.
That palaces are fickle, have no heart.
That palaces decay, they always rot.

I realised that love has no home,
It has to stand naked in the rain.
It has to get burnt in the sunny day
And yet, it can never die, never.

This blood on my hands, doesn't go away.
The sins of acts past linger in hazy memories.
The pure water of deeds done good today,
Bloodied by a single drop of blood of history.

In the blithe joy back in those old days,
Didn't know a cut would grow into a wound.
Didn't realise that minds would be so fickle
Didn't know under the currents lay still waters.

Till I scrapped the surface and discovered
That the past was still alive, still breathing.
That the albatross was still around my neck
That the hearts, after all, were still bleeding.

I walk those streets again this night.
Lonely, accompanied by the moonlight.
My heart paces with joy of rediscovery
But the familiar faces are nowhere in sight.

A stranger to my past I have become,
A stranger to the moments yet to come.
In between the bygone and the rising,
Like a possessed man I run, I run.