So it is

My Thought has grown fond of my Shadow.
They sigh in each other’s company and desire to swap roles.
You remember, like Heer desired to be Ranjha.
(Not that my Thought and my Shadow had much difference
between them; they both being dusky and unfathomed.)
I have seen the two from the beginning
of their amour. My Thought had wooed my Shadow
and then the latter to the former had possessed.
This incest has grown at its best,
in the twilight, when the two unite,

this season dont change the skin.
it is at its natural best.
u have the spots of grace, tranquillizing my sight.
often will yu see, in future, not something like this.
hold on, this season don't change the skin.

illusion there is none for now.
the trueness looks splendid.
the fear, the mercy, the love, the grief
all rolled there, don't seem to obscure your
appearance.
it stands perfect, with no show of pretence.
so let dat be, the skin, don't change it for now.

An Ode To Sloth

An Ode to Sloth

You who are a jewel among a crown
of seven jewels that adorn the crown of Sin….
You who are the epitome of inertia
and stand for boredom in merry din…

I wonder what a state your absence
must have devised for us,
without you who’d have pulled us
out of life’s mechanical fuss.

Like Robots we’d have persisted day and night,
Thanks for saving us from slogger’s blight.

I succumb to you, with joy, when I need to shirk,
Away from random bizarreness of my endless work
I have nurtured you in secret
with your seven Virtuous foes,
favoring whom I have been hit in life
by some deadliest of blows.

You also at times become my medium
of delving in a trance,
For making me oblivious to the woes
you are my sole chance.

vignette

You tell me how will you fathom effervescence?
I live my life in layers of those bubbles: transient, fleeting, ephemeral joys.
They leave no trace of their having being once a part of me. And yet they remain, subtly visible, carrying forward my dreams, through those prismatic realms.
They have coloured my time and space. Of seven colors they are.

A Game

Far or near
None I fear.
For I know
It’s all a game.

Too much proximity,
I say with certainty,
Breeds contempt.
So I make an attempt,
To let distances lurk,
display myself through murk.
So that at bay
You learn to stay.

For I know
It’s all a game.

When you miles across,
live engrossed,
I swear I also yearn
and wait for your turn,
to come and be with me,
so that you set me free,
of my receding approach,
which I often reproach.
Cause if it becomes
a trend,
will bring this game
to its much detested end.


For I know
It’s all a game.

Lets play it until we depart,
From our lives, from this world,
and from each other’s heart.

When was i silent last?

It wasn’t last night when I was asleep. I had dreamt then. Met my school teacher in dreams and did some easy chit chat with her. I told her how my college days had been, how disenchanting my days at a Media house had been where I interned for a couple of months, the paranoid Chief Editor there, memories of dad, and my present workplace: where i’m learning to gear up for doing something concrete in life.

So, it was no where in my nap. The SILENCE.

The day, rather all days, depart prattling, pondering, conversing, bantering, sneering and doing what not. All but remaining silent, from with-in and with-out.

Wondering when (if ever) has commotion stopped? The answer is perhaps ‘never’.

When I speak on the surface,
you absorb its meaning profound.
you carefully delve and think
when I mock around…

And when indeed I go deep,
you couldn’t care less and sleep
having expressed what my heart beseeched,
I have often mistakenly felt pleased
in thinking that you desirably approved,
my outpourings, which though were crude.

You smirk and gaze with your eyes in daze,
Then finally I discern that you have no concern.
With what I might go through and to say it true,
your ears got choked and your heart has doped.

For how many ages must I wait?
to trap you soundly with my bait!