Silent February

 

Words don’t sound anymore here,

Silence breeds from a distance.

Do people feel it in the air?

The stillness-

Of a magnanimous turbulence.

 

Sights can console hearts,

But the deafening silence will still choke,

These people must now seek,

New lands and make them home.

 

But if darkness does take over,

And the nights refuse to pass,

They may only wish,

They remember voices en-masse.

Water, Wishes and Wisdom

 

You were,

The physical embodiment of life,

Flowing without any qualms,

Some patches dark, some bright.

 

Life glides, like your flow,

In waves, with its ripples.

Depositing some slack-

Washing away some,

Bringing some back.

 

Like you, we create some things good,

Nourish them, savour them,

But bound as we are,

Moving forward, abandon – sometimes destroy them.

 

But like that floating ball,

That, now and then, kept kissing my knees,

All that has been created consciously,

Will be around- as memories.

 

Maybe Bruce was right,

When he asked us to be like water.

But what about the volcanoes amongst us?

Can defining characteristics be altered?

 

Irrespective of everything, I must confess,

This tryst added to my being.

I left behind a bit of me with you,

One sided- couldn’t be this fling.

 

What comes next, I care a damn.

For I know, what comes will go,

And then return, in pieces too small,

And then I know, these ruins,

Will be a part of it all.

 

I assume, we do not live in isolate phases,

Each phase makes us whole.

We need to accommodate characters,

Living or dead, as demands the role.  

 

Paris

One fine evening in Frankfurt,

I sat by the one and only Rhine,

Mesmerized, overwhelmed;

A moment inexplicably divine.

 

The gods were kind,

Sending showers of love;

While the crowd rushed indoors,

I took stand, like the one true God  from above.

While sipping wine by the Rhine,

Would have been poetic,

Chugging beer, I stayed true,

To my label trend-agnostic.

 

I know the Rhine embraced me,

Not as a guest, but as a lover,

It is not often that her magnitude,

Witnesses such pious grandeur.

 

But as we said goodbye,

She almost forced me to sail to Paris,

But she finally understood ,

Paris has been promised to someone else.

The one

 

Blessed indeed are pairs,

Who find and live their love.

But love is a tale of solemn defiance,

You choose from “one of the above”.

 

Tonight I choose you,

Over everyone else,

Irrespective of their standing or claim,

Be that in thought or in flesh.

 

When I take you over, 

Your own wishes matter little, 

All the adventures here and there, 

Matter no more, in a life so brittle. 

 

 

Cosmic chances

I try finding words,

But to no avail.

What I see, is inexplicable,

Like others, will we also fail?

 

Were we always so frail?

Our stories speak otherwise.

Beyond your plastic veils,

Somewhere inside, love must thrive.

 

You have the strength,

The kind love demands,

But not the patience,

Nor the faith to take a chance. 

 

I see you, and I wish

I could give words to your silence,

Heal your pain, 

And bridge the distance.

 

The next time we come across,

Leave your veil behind.

I will meet as the stranger,

I have been for a while,

Let us give the cosmos,

A moment to record and rewind.

Absolute

 

They drift in space time,

Bound by laws of entropy, of relativity;

And those, undeciphered hitherto;

And some fake rules, created by humanity. 

 

Quantum mechanics ensures,

The drift is random.

Distances fluctuate, and 

Souls entangled, move in tandem.

 

The naïve, cut off strings,

Forced by limited knowledge;

The wise ones, warp dimensions,

They build and preserve bridges.

 

How else do we experience the multiverse?

A bestial life should never suffice.

Only that- "which endures

Through space, through time,

Through everything in between and beyond,

Through compulsion, through choice"-

Deserves to be preserved,

By those wishing to be as absolute as light.

Choices

 

Choices in life,

Often, are at extremes.

The roads travelled- habit.

Those not- dreams.

 

That feeling of helplessness,

Is okay in those moments.

Moments which force evaluation,

Of actions, of consequences.

Of causes, of effects.

 

Maybe life doesn’t allow rectifications,

Letting a part of its own self be laid to waste.

Goes on and on- on a path predisposed,

Destinies shaped by fate.

 

Would have been lot easier,

If only, there were middle paths too.

Some more choices, less extreme,

Sparing us some pain on the move.