Words flow
In the shade of the bougainvillea bloom.
Dignity
gives way to small pranks.
The romance
In both the hearts
Spins the guests
In a vertigo of flirtation.
The emotional intercourse, the genesis,
Gloats
With an analogous orgasm.Picture credit: Vishal Anand Reddy, Hyderabad.(Pencil sketch of a scene from the Hindi movie 'Rain Coat')
BLACK – I
Dark
Is the humor of the stubborn thorns
In the waves of the desert stretch;
The spirit of the cactus evaporates,
Body left in the monotony of ashen grounds.
Wasted talent of the chameleon
On a moonless night
- The color
As opaque as the philosophy
Of the remotest star.
Abstinence,
That holds the reins,
Strangling indulgence;
Bitterness,
That holds on ransom,
The verse of honey drops;
Despair,
That holds a hope,
Breaking into the tides of happiness;
Black,
That holds the suspense
Of animated hues.
BLACK – II
The language
Is manifested
In a pair of jet black eyes;
The frontiers of beauty
Begin and end
In the windows of the body.
Femininity
Wrapped in a veil,
The ceremonial attire
Melts
In the murky veneer of the night.
Black melts.
Some seeds remain buried for decades, and all it takes is a moment’s magical intervention for the first leaves to crack through the layers of mud and whiff with life; nature never gives up on the possibilities.
Read 'seeds' as 'ideas'; read 'nature' as 'your strong conviction in your ideas'.
The air is robust;
The breeze from the sunflower fields
Fills the lungs with spell-binding joy.
Fifteen or twenty minutes ago, at the western horizon,
The sun dropped the day
In an orange sea of glory;
The dissolving light
Paints the silhouettes of retreating cattle.
The hermits of darkness
Unweave
Out of their cocoons.
At a distance,
An oak tree is flocked
With an elation of skylarks.
A few yards away from the tree,
Inconspicuously hidden
Behind the fencing of a full bougainvillea bloom,
Is a small house
Ornamented with falling creepers,
The season’s blossoming best.
From the chimney,
A thin smoke of supper brew
Masts into the evening sky.
Twilight’s music is orchestrated
By the cacophony of the crickets and the frogs.
A dragonfly hangs head-down
To a ripening orange in the garden.
It is life in the country;
Life ‘grows’ in the country.
Live life in a broad spectrum of ideas with perfect balance of ideals, that includes fresh thinking, and a fresher perspective to make it to the top.
The sun sinks into the horizon.
Long after it’s gone,
The western sky
Still carries a memory of crimson & orange.
The warmth still lingers in the breeze,
In the wheat fields, on river sands
And between the ebb and flow
Of evening’s Theatre.
It’s a room of unforgettable dimensions
-to one corner
There is an unmade bed
And to another, a messy wardrobe.
The objects in the room are dusty and unattended.
A middle-aged man with disheveled hair and dirty clothes
Is slouched in an arm-chair.
He is staring
At a window that has not been opened for the last two years.
The wall beside him
Has numerous cobwebbed photographs, thirty maybe, of a woman.
A scarlet scent
Hangs among the objects of the room.
It’s the scent of her vibrant, passionate moods.
It’s the scent that keeps him alive.
One day
All would be gone –
The Room, the Objects, the Man in the arm-chair, his Agony.
It’s just the scent
That stays...... the scarlet scent.
She has innocent looks,
Tender cheeks, soft lips, graceful limbs,
And a pleasant countenance.
Her appearance
Is like the surface of a moon-lit lake,
And her voice
Like the whisper of ocean breeze seasoned in a shell.
When in deep thought
She puckers her lips, crosses her hands
And her slender fingers gently tap
To the rhythm of the flowing mind.
And then, you can see her long, manicured nails
-wherein underlies the intensity of the animal.
When in courtship,
She entwines into her partner in a clammy posture
And her nails are dug into his back like the claws of a predator.
The innocent looks are now fiery,
The tender cheeks turn crimson,
Her soft lips – sensuous,
Her graceful limbs – numb in ecstasy.
A blazing inferno belies her pleasant countenance.
That evening,
While riding back home,
Her partner winces in emotion
When the rain-drops damp his sore, bruised back.
Live life to the fullest...let the world be your playground.
Seek excellence always,
Fight fear and never give up;
Discover newer horizons,
Imagine ways through impossibilities
And connect yourself to higher realms.
Declare, ‘Today is the first day of the rest of my life’.
Black, white and gray shades
Fill the flickering images
That haunt the mind’s studio.
The eyes
Stare into a void, into volumes of nothingness.
Lost, forlorn, desolate and bored,
I resign into a corner, crouched in, what seems like
Perpetual unpleasantness.
Desperation leads to a restless mind
And a restless mind is never out of options.
The mindscape
Spots a hazy rainbow and the thoughts take a new shape.
The rainbow
Renders an imaginative dimension to the imprisoned instincts.
I look around.
The air turns feisty, the mind turns into a kaleidoscope,
And the thoughts script a new language – colors.
The mosaic, the cobweb knit,
The yellowing pages of an old diary,
The blotches of red ink on an envelope,
The steely shine of the hinges,
And all the terrains of the unexplored world
Pour into the soul
With a new sense of exhilaration.
I walk to the window
And stare at the evening sky.
My voice sings an unknown, happy tune
Where I see some swallows disappear into the green foliage.
Steel endures.
Steel shines. Steel outshines.
Steel rams into adversities…head-on
Steel lasts. Steel outlasts.
Steel humbles the impossible.
Steel performs. Steel outperforms.
Steel is ‘the’ metaphor
