Shoes And Soul

Shoes on the rack

I wish to make amends

By changing size

She holds me back 

With whip in hand

Poised to strike

The lashings whine

I try in vain

To stifle the cries

Shoes on the rack

Tell me why

I can't tread beyond

The limits drawn

By that number on the sole

Are  my feet to be defined?

Shared with Poets'United 

Mother And Child

I have nurtured hatred
unendingly so................
bags full of trash
valueless to the world
priceless to me
as all other worthless thoughts
churned and cherished
within the fragile membranes
                  of a puerile mind
now appear to have lost their shine
in the blinding glitter
of mushrooming malls

I have parented dreams
wailing in the womb
of silenced nights
throttled sobs
and muffled cries

I have sung lullabies
to sooth them to sleep
and woken them up
at the wrong time
fed them what
money could not buy
nourished them well
so that they  not die
an untimely death
schooled them to believe
they have been immortalized

Yes, I have mothered dreams
but never a child...

Skyscraper

From Google

Today I cleaned the attic
Dusted the mats
Ran the creaky drawers on their rusty channels
Vacuumed the drapes
Sprayed the freshener generously around
Then closed all the windows.....doors
Ventilators.............so that no dust
Should settle again on the bed, floor, closets
But there is one little hole
Down the corner (......workmanship of a nibbler)
Where the walls meet the floor
Cleverly covered by the frayed carpet
Which I couldn't shut....................(though I tried hard, believe it or not)
Like the blocked drain
In the shaft
................And the sun somehow manages to creep in
Through the slit lighting a room so dark and heavy with the smell
Of ancient baggage, mothballs and memories............
It rankles deep down..............(why I wonder!!)

And when I wrote a few verses today

...................On the vastness of the sky

...............................................Running meadows

.................................................................................Singing streams

..........................................................................................................Gurgles of laughter

The little hole in the unused attic
Kept on bothering me
With its narrow confines
Where the world seems to open up and beckon me...............
Yet I stay bolted behind

Shared with Poets United

ध्वनि

गूगल से 

शब्दों से परे 

सचकित सशब्द 

ये अंतराल 

The Battle Mates

From Google

I am no saint when it comes to virtues

My vices kill me on every breath

As well as those who dare to reform

My unhinged soul , my wayward will

Yet in moments of deep reverie

I feel a Oneness with the Universe

The abode of the cherubs and the chaste

The debauch and the demoniacal alike

I wonder whether it is the vile and vicious in me

Which senses a resonance with the chaos in the cosmos

Or is it the shallow-breathing long-captivated angel

Asphyxiating somewhere deep within

Perhaps my saintliness lies in just being human

However, the fact of the matter remains that

Eternal is the residence of Saints and Satan both

On the fulcrum of the Consciousness Supreme

The degree lies in the tilt of the lever

And that's so simple, isn't it?

This poem is shared with Poet's United for the Midweek Motif : Saint/Saintliness

Murder Of A Rose

From Google

His earnest gaze pierces my soul

His clasp tightening on my hold

Lips quiver in innocent appeal

Eyes brim with moistened gleam

Promises fake futile foolish

Douse me with glimpses of a

Wishful future and joyful overtures

My limbs slacken and heart topples

As I give in to his impassioned zeal

The very next moment strikes the dagger

Its stainless shine trickled with streaks

A bloody rose crimson in colour

Is wrenched apart from its anchor-twig

I can hear its silent screams from afar

I gasp and fume and slowly resume

My plaintive plea however in vain ....!

Its weird how symbiotically we merge in each other's being

Weirder still how we devolve into strangled cries and shaken faith

This is shared with Poets' United Mid Week Motif : Weird

A Flower Was Offered To Me

From Google

A Flower was offered to me

A Flower frozen in time

A Flower so distinctly beautiful

Its Petals soft and curly

Its Stems looking up to the sky

A Flower of exquisite Creation

Of Colour, Contour and Design

A Flower in harmony with the Divine

I could not have asked for anything more

And nothing would have substituted

The Joy of holding it between my fingers

The Flower was not a Flower

But a gift from Heaven, am sure

Yet countless times I calculated

The Cause behind the Motif

The Motive behind the Present

The Reason behind the Joy

The Mystique behind the Miracle 

The Possibilities it Proposed

The Opportunities it Negated

And in assessing the pros and cons

(A gross folly of the human mind

I know now it is...)

I somewhere lost the Moment

The Ecstasy of Gaining something Worthwhile

The Epiphany of Visioning the Enormous

The Marvel behind all Miracles

The Wondrous Find of Discovery 

The Magnitude of Magnanimity

And so failing myself

I lost the Gift as well

The Gift from a Horizon Beyond

The Love that was twined in its Stalk

The Care that was imbued in its Palette

The Bliss that was weaved in its Touch

I was Offered a Flower I know

But I Lost a World I know not When

This Poem is shared with Poets United's Midweek Motif " A Flower Was Offered To Me"

खामोशियाँ

गूगल से 

वो बातें बिन बोले भी बयाँ  होती है 

जिन्हें कहते खामोशियाँ  जवाँ होती  है 

प्रदूषण और परिवहन

(Inspired by Delhi Chief Minister Shri Arvind Kejriwal's drive to free the Capital of pollution)

गूगल से   चित्र 

प्रदूषण  पे 

रोक, राह तकता  

खड़ा लंगड़ा  

रतजगे सपनें

From Pinterest

रतजगे से

सपने, औंधे मुँह

पड़े दिन में

Food

Sourced from Google

I remember it was a week day
Boarding the bus on a busy road
Was suddenly accosted by this
Vagabond of a man 
Not exactly in tatters, for sure
But had a glassy look about him
Rumpled hair and dry mouth

Reddish in colour, quaint manners...

I shrank as he extended 
A dirt striped hand
And mumbled something like
"Didi! give me a tenner please
Haven't eaten a morsel 
Whole day long"

Spontaneity had the better of me
As I handed him the note
He vamoosed as though he was never there!

The man next to me grinned derisively
"Made a fool of you! He's a dopey... you see"

We share the day with each other
And everyday invariably 
They leave the table littered with 
Sparsely eaten plates 
I tell them, "Its a waste! 
Recall those who do not have enough
Children of forgetful Gods..
They belong to this Earth
As you and I do"

They have stopped sharing the table with me
And call me names
Behind my back, of course!
I overheard one of them, the other day...

I shun them as well

It doesn't hurt anymore
The feeling is mutual 
As usual...


Note : "Didi" is an address for elder sister

This poem is shared with Poets United's Weekly Motif Food

Sourced from Google

Incredible!!

Pic from Google

In the mystique folds of Life

I have found YOU

In serendipitous moments

Of self discovery

And realized with awe

That I am not the Only One

Who has wept blood

And bled tears

In your loving embrace

I have found solace

And in bliss of ignorance

Named it a Miracle

That I am still alive!!

Pic from Google

This Poem is shared with Poets United

Tote Bag

From Google

tote bag

rests in peace within

my memoire