They speak volumes

They speak words

From the infinity within

And the eternity beyond

In the recurring dreams

‘n the constant visions

I hear the expressions

I hear the din

I communicate with you

With the voices within


Under The Familiar Blue Sky


Far beyond the horizon

Under the familiar blue sky

Stands a tree from my childhood

Whose leaves have fallen by

It’s a symbol of my strength

It’s a symbol of my dreams

For under its shade I have spent

Many a days of blissful retreat

Lying in its comfort

I have seen the clouds float across

From near its roots everyday

I had plucked the flowers and grass

Running squirrels and changing chameleons

On its thick trunk, each day

Had made me think and ponder

Of a life that could be gay

Far beyond the horizon

Under the familiar blue sky

It’s all still there: the trees, the shade, the birds, the grass

It’s all still there: the dreams, the strength, the thoughts, the flowers

Myriad Feelings

Dark Tranquility

A flood of myriad feelings envelope me. Things seem so askew sometimes that I don’t feel my usual self. I find myself running away, running away from everything that surrounds me, running away from myself. My heart is constantly heavy and cold. My spirit feels tired and weary, it is drifting away. The will to survive seems to be lost, it has escaped my frail grasp. My reflex to hold on is vanishing. No matter who surrounds me, I still feel lonely. Sometimes I feel, my life is becoming a puzzle of friends, families and loved ones. Loved ones…..that in itself is such an irony…..no one actually loves, without any hidden motives. A part of me is actually dying. Soon all in me will be gone, and soon I will be forgotten. Sometimes the darkness totally devours me. I don’t even feel the urge to resist it, in fact I encourage it, until all hint of light will be gone.

There is an easy breeze. With it I want to have an easy heart and a treasured feeling of love. But this easy breeze is of a lonely life, of nature’s sarcasm and mock. A clammy air on a dark night, along an abandoned empty road of a lifeless land, a flickering lamp post, an autumn in the heart, matching dark clouds, thunder and flashes of lightning. Heavy raindrops – the best camouflage for my tears that have been trapped in the corner of my eyes for eons, waiting to burst out and flow incessantly. Darkness is just so perfect, no one will be able to notice me, standing in solitude, at the same time being able to ignore the world that doesn’t even need my attention. I feel like a lone soul wandering and imprisoned at the same time, in a labyrinth of loneliness.

Call From Beyond

Can I see you today?

‘coz tomorrow might not be the same day

Tomorrow I might not open my eyes

By day break I might not survive


Anything to stop this pain

To stop the cloudbursts of this rain

To stop the thunder in my heart

Anything but this moment apart


Passing away does not seem right

Have searched each path with all my might

Seems to me my destiny is set

So, this night I gracefully embrace death

C’est La Vie

I stand as a silent spectator and observe the ever changing dynamics around.

Circumstances and people, both, can change at a pace faster than you can sometimes keep up to.

New faces replace the old ones, ditto with relationships.

A faint memory still tries to keep alive the blissful moments, in times of desperate redresses.

The definitions of friendships are being re-written and the endearments no longer stand for affection.

Awkwardness looms large in the company of same people with whom you might have shared a zillion smiles.

Familiarity has become a breeding ground of discords.

The non stop flow of words are being superseded with silence.

The once non-calculable distances are now being measured in miles and hours.

No more are there the proximities that secured the strings of fondness and associations of complete strangers.

Forced into oblivion, the heart at times yearns for the same familiar grounds.

A thought overshadows this mindful rambling, that maybe it is good in a way, as it assures that life is not stagnant, but evolving – although on its own terms.


Above the clutter of human voices

Above the realms of sanity

Silence speaks a thousand words

If you listen without your vanity


A twinkling eye, a zestful smile

An untold word, awaits a while

Frozen spaces, frozen time

Frozen thoughts, a mere mime


Every moment and every sight

An unforgettable era of delight

A wonderland of thoughts and dreams

Treasures of love with endless seams

Parallel Reality

The door makes a noisy creaking as I push open the wooden block and enter the room. “Close the door, please” says a familiar voice. I oblige. While pushing the door back to its original place, I can’t help but wonder how even after all these years, the voice has not lost its charm, although its intensity and passion can’t be found anymore.

I try to adjust my eyes to the dim lit room. The only light is a narrow shaft of the setting sun’s rays through the slightly parted curtains, as it tries to illuminate the darkness that is engulfing this place. A reeking smell of cigarette smoke fills up the air.I look around trying to make my way through the now forgotten pieces of canvases and paint. At the far end of the room, a flash of fire goes up to light another cigarette.I catch a glimpse of the tired and weary frame lying on the arm chair. I pull a beanbag and settle down next to it.

“Let me open the windows, it will be nice and refreshing”, I say and start towards the window. “No, let it be, darkness is sometimes good for the soul” comes the reply. I oblige once again, settling myself back into the beanbag.

Even though her optimism is lost, the soul searching has not stopped. A few years back this same soul was the chirpy nonstop chatter box who had helped me come out of the biggest depression of my life and it’s unbelievable to see her today at the place where I stood some time back.

I uneasily fiddle on my seat trying to find words to begin a conversation and break the wall she has created around herself. Why does it seem so difficult?

“Don’t try so hard” she says, reading my mind. I gaze at her and reply “Trying is what you have taught me. Remember you always used to say, There’s no harm in trying, even if you don’t gain, there’s nothing to lose.” A thin smile appears on her face. “I see you have taken all my words to heart, child.” The words are followed by a puff of smoke. “Yes, I have. They hold true after all and work wonders, don’t you think?” A hollow laugh goes up from her as she replies, “Wonders, huh? They don’t exist.”

Well I have hit the wall again! How has a single experience turned this forever optimist into a cynic that I can’t relate to? How has life been so cruel on her as to totally turn around her way?

“Show me one of your recent paintings, I don’t remember the last I saw”, I try once again. She stares back at me quizzically, “You really want to? Don’t think you will find it to your taste.” “I insist” I say. “Well if you insist”, with these words she pulls up her fragile frame from the arm chair and walks towards the table. She picks up a small canvas leaning against the ottoman and hands it to me. I try to study and understand the theme on the thick piece of cloth. These are not the usual colours I would find in her creations. The piece is covered in the hues of darkest colours and myriad brush strokes. I look back at her with a blank expression. “Well I told you, it won’t be to your taste” she says.

“This is not even to your taste; this can’t have been done by you!” I retaliate. A sarcastic smirk is followed by “This is my inner and outer world, child. What else did you expect?” “I expect…. I expect you to come out of this misery that you have drowned yourself into. Come back into the world where you belong, back to the life that is yours!” I try to stubbornly voice my thoughts.

She chides me with a pat on my cheeks, “Ah! Expectations! I don’t belong anywhere and neither anything belongs to me. The world is meaningless, child. But to answer your expectations, one day I might find the courage to walk back into what you call world, until then this is where I need to be, emotionally and physically.” I start to give another argument but she cuts me and says, “It’s getting late, you should get going.”I nod and get up to leave. She walks me up to the door and says, “I like you, keep visiting, won’t you?” “Yes, of course!” I reply. I take my leave from her by hugging her. She unexpectedly smiles and plants a small peck on my forehead and says, “Be blissful.”

And you too, I send out a small prayer as I walk towards the faint light of the dusk.