poem 26

Duality

Was it you that I sought?
For so long,
At all places,
At lonesome nights
And crowded days,
Among faces known
And unknown,
As what I need,
And what would
Please me the most.

But then you are here now
And why do I still long for
My lonesome nights
And crowded days?
What do I still seek
And why anymore?
Why the same if not more
Restlessness as before?

I wanted you then
And now I don't.
Though you maintain
That you are the same
As you were.

If there be truth
In what you say,
How could you -
The unchanged one,
Cause effects opposite
To one another.
Pain-pleasure,
Presence-Vacuum,
Love-Hurt,
Hope-despair.

I think it was my mind
That perceived as I allowed
And wanted to,
And attached values hence.
Then what would you be?
The sum total of the opposites
Which is nothing
But mere naught.

poem 25

mistake

to see your face
in the silent dark
why bring the lamp
near the mirror
and fail?

is that not the image mere?

bring the light
closer to your face,
illuminate yourself -
the one real,
see the truth clear!

poem 24

nag

salesman of the year and the best ever
could sell almost all things
emotions, love. smile or tear.

nothing is too good or bad to measure
everything has a price, a buyer,
and you can agree on a number.

never out of reasons, pleas
persuasive in ways
ends by any means, please.

and he is persistent and sincere
that, you sign on the dotted line
right now for sure.

comes back always with a new offer,
even though you know, he makes you pay
him you just can not ignore.

poem 23

words

random patterns that ink
makes on white palms of papers,
a few words here and there.

when poured and filled with
emotions and feelings,
attain a life of their own.

can replace a person;
love, hurt, comfort,
instill fear, hope and inspire.

many times spurn actions
out of its fertile womb
and many times a few more of words.

poem 22

They

As curtains of darkness
Were swiftly removed for a moment,
They revealed their thin naked legs
And blood-stained ankles.

Forced to live
Carrying a burden of shame
That belongs to different
Shoulders and heads.

Wombs made barren
By pilferage, Often in broad daylight.
Breasts pricked with metals
Time and again in sadist pleasure.

They do not tie knots
In their cloud-like
Scattered hair anymore
Forced to grey before time.

Children must beg now
After being driven out
From their homes by hunger
And thirst of more.

They may succumb to this humiliation.
To which I added hours of vain ogling
And inaction.

poem 21

to give up, is easy
the river takes its course - up to down
takes along many things with it
things that have surrendered
their will to reverse
the direction of
the flow the mighty element
to traverse in the opposite direction
to strive relentless and
to never give up

I have no idea if this can be called a form. But this style is inspired by Kavi Samrat Upendra Bhanja (oriya poet of seventeenth century)who wrote kavyas (long poetries) with each line starting with one letter such as the Baideheesha Bilasha(with"Ba" initial for each line).

poem 20

prompt : to write a poem whose title is longer than the poem

EXPLOSION AND ULTIMATELY DESTRUCTION OF SELF AND EVERYTHING NOBLE AND GOOD AROUND AT THE FAINTEST HINT OF PROVOCATION WHICH MAY BE REAL OR IMAGINARY

my mind is mightier than the gun
why, it does not need even a trigger !

poem 19

An ode to confusion /What should the title be

Of all things that I am confused about,
I am confused about this confusion the most.
It's birth certificate is very complicate
Father and guess what even the mother
Have the same name as itself!
In the space for date of birth and time
There is just one specific word - 'anytime'.!!

Not an easy child to rear, you must bear
Many many trials: vehement denials
Followed by affirmations strong as bed rocks.
Only to be swapped as twins
And convictions are strong as nine pins.
Experience is meant to be forgotten
And past mistakes very repeatable.

Time, money, relationships and habit
Only make matters worse for it.
'How can I compare apples with oranges, bananas and pears?'
Poor things is an easy prey; sympathy, greed,
Jealousy, conscience, love and hate
All cast and catch it with their own baits.

It's a pathetic actor too.
Words and even silence,
Action and even inertia,
Reveal more of the blessed state than hide!

Even Mr. Frost finally took one road - the one less traveled.
But even if our friend takes one, either one,
It would think and miss the other.
Not only that, it may retreat and take the other
And do the same again, this time the other:
No. The other!

It's only solace though, is to know
That there are others, whom it equally bothers
With degree more or less, but it does.
Takes pride that only it can ride life's rivers
With a feet each in boats two.

One may be certain of many things
And the number of such certain things may increase
But one thing is certain -
There will always be things one is always confused about.


Dedicated to my mother, friends and well i am confused now.

poem 18

You had filled my empty days,
At nights fought with sleep for space
In the yellow desert of my eyes
And showed me many songs and plays.

Made me forget the lashes of memories
Struck on mind's naked back,
A break too from the cruel game with mirages
Of future, where one gambles on forgeries.

Intellect, knowledge, reason kept aside
So did were feelings dipped in pride
To 'here and now' you brought me
To think, believe, realise, decide.

And to Act , for the result taking no thought,
Whether it was a cheap bargain I bought,
It was my inevitable duty, my nature,
That there was a vital battle and I fought.

This form of poetry is called Rubayiyat (rhyming scheme aaba), made famous by the Persian poet Omar Khayyam.


Many titles could be nominated: Temptation, Kurukhsetra, Guru, The War. Too many for me to decide.

poem 17

will you
accept my doubts,
my vices, frailities
my confusions and demons of past
with me ?

in dark
and stormy nights
when i look for support,
will you steady me and hold fast
my hands ?

can you
bear it equally ?
losses-gains, smiles-tears
honour-criticism:without and
with me?

poem 16

maid

she swept neat the floor of the big house,
where from each tile the face of her son beamed.
'left alone at home, would he be crying for me?
ah! if only I could wipe the tear from his cheeks
and sweat from his forehead rather than this floor.'

she put out the clothes in the sun to dry.
the colour reminded her of the red frock
she saw through the glasses at the blue shop.
'should I ask for an advance or wait for month-end;
but my daughter's birthday can't wait no?

'it is so hot this year and then the damned powercuts,
why did they have to cut down the neem tree
that gave shade to her hut?
the children suffer so much during the afternoon!'
she thought while dusting the ceiling and the fans.

'two potatoes and handful of lentils is all that is left,
the children would ask for curry again.
three times he forgot,maybe he is saying the truth
or has he been drinking my Lord !'

her hands, feet and her body were here at her master's house,
busy working tirelessly and well.
her mind's compass though pointed to her small home
and he attention concerntrated on her family above all.

poem 15

inside-out

played many chords strained,
chased many sounds too.
failed to hear but
the perfect melody played within

colours and shapes varied
i sought with eyes thirsty,
never did enjoy the beauty
and play of darkness behind closed eyes.

care, love and respect
fame, wealth and name.
now this and then something else
did i seek in vain.

friends, lovers and others
i sought to complete my self.
all i wanted but was 'me'
as i was complete in myself.

poem 14

First Winter

This winter was the coldest
And the hardest.
During the snowfall of circumstances,
The glass-like sharp edges of flakes of words
Brushed past my exposed face
Unused to climate such as this.

The freezing cold winds from north
Cut my eyes like sharp threads of memories.
Got into my chest made it heavy
And did not even come out.
At night the bones
Could hear them talk among themselves.
The fluid of emotions that oiled them
Must have been dried up.

Many things slowed down,
Some even to a halt:
The heart threatened not to beat at times,
Muscles did not even flinch for a smile,
Tears did not flow past the eyes,
Blood got stuck paralysed,
Unguided by any will to do anything.
The winter would have been bearable,
Had you not pulled away from me
And shred to pieces in a few minutes
The blanket of warm sheep skin,
That took us the whole of autumn to weave.

day 13 - poem 13

Barter

No more of the hardness of earth for me,
Or the thorny bed of grasses.
On soft cushions now I lie down
But sleep like blessings has become rarer.

I have removed the sheet of sky
Studded with stars and clouds.
Now I have a roof rock-solid
Too small for hope and dreams together.

The playful breeze of summer nights
I swapped with mere air-conditioned.
The silence of the woods and river
With the noise of vehicles and motor.

I put my trust on iron and wood
More than on men and their goodness.
Now but doubt everyone
And everything I fear.

I have bartered the whole universe
For a small space called 'my house'
What was without limits any
Tapes and foot can now measure.

Kinship with many and friendship with all,
I hurriedly did shun
I choose a few to alternatively love and hate
Called them 'my family dear' .

day 11 - poem 12

that tear drop
should have stayed in the shell of your eyes.
and years of longing
would have turned it into a pearl

day 10 - poem 11

Sant Kabir Das
A saint in his own class.
Spake only the truth without fear.
Condemned all rituals, upheld love pure.

Sachin Tendulkar
Is not just a cricketer
To give hope, God himself came
Batted for India and blessed the game !

Kishore Kumar
Versatile genius without par
Singer, Actor, Composer and Director
Crooned for many but married four !


(Attempt at clerihew. A clerihew is a whimsical, four-line biographical poem)

day 9 - poem 10

Threat

A roof big, blue and bright
Dark like her eyes at night.
Walls of green mountains around
Valleys soft and profound.
There was my home alright.

Then they all came here
Many names, from far and near.
One was government, other corporate
Some to study, some to educate.
Our plight you see, too hard for them to bear.

"We are here for God's work" some said.
Some others fought with them and retorted.
Medicines with leaflets they mixed
Food for few symbols - deal fixed!
By whom but were my huts gutted?

We were asked to GO,
'To gain something, something you must forgo:
Growth for COUNTRY' they told
"We will turn this land into GOLD"
Graveyard, refugee camps, wherever - just GO!

They tore open the heart of earth mother
Big trucks, night and day did hungrily gather
GOLD as they said before, they got
'US' they all soon easily forgot.
Who gained what and who lost here.

Some of them came again
"What you have lost, you must regain.
Organise, protest, fight and revolt.
Lets give the system a mighty jolt.
Here brothers - take guns and train".

It worked and seemed so perfect
Some land we got back, some respect.
We did plunder your towns for greed 'FACTORIES'
We just wanted back the lives we lived for centuries.
Yet you called us 'COUNTRY's gravest security THREAT!'.

Then a few more marching came
With guns and machines with them.
We bled, got killed, were bombed,
Women, children and men - combed !
THREAT - eliminated, land cleared for GAME!

The poem was written at an altitude of 30-50,000 ft (yeshh, on a flight, on the back of the boarding pass!). Though the things that are written on here are very much grounded.
It is about the 'Country's gravest security threat - Naxalism'.

My attempt at a form called limerick (rhyming scheme - aabba).

day 8 - poem 9

One does not understand ordinarily,
Even has doubts, due to experiences otherwise.
Circumspect, cautious and fearful too
To accept the blessing one has found.
Ever aware of the limits of distance and time,
And transient nature of all seen and felt.
Seeks approbation from others learned and less,
Of what one knows in heart is for certain.
One bounces off and back again and again
From joy and apprehension inexplicable.
Disbelieves the worth of what is received
The receiver and even the generous giver.

Only when one finds a one as 'You',
One knows for sure what has one found!

Dedicated to my sister and all the wonderful people who are a part of my life.

day 7 - poem 8

Bidai - II
(sending off of the bride from her parent's home after marriage)

Though not easy to bear
Today, I would not stop
You or your tears.

They would tell me many things about your world
You many not have told or
I may not have understood well.

Mingled with those of your mother
They would tell me
I am taking the shadow away from the image.
That someone else would also
Need to know all the moment
That you are well and happy.

Dampening the chest of your father,
They would show me,
What high ideals you would seek in me.
The grip of his hand - caring but firm;
That steadied your steps and made you fearless as a child
Would have to be replaced.

Wiped away with plams of your friends and sister
They would beseach me to do the same
If ever you were hurt or sad.
And that you would need to confide in a friend
Without doubt or aprehension
In absolute trust.

More than anything they would inspire me
To do and many times not to do anything
So that I see them again.

This poem and the one posted before this were my reactions as a husband and brother (in that order) though I am yet to experience it first-hand.

day 6 - poem 7

Bidai - I
(sending off of the bride from her parent's home after marriage)

Those tiny fingers which you wrapped around my eyelids
And asked 'bhai, who am I ?'
Have become red with the redness of my eyes
Though old women say its the colour of your husband's love.
Fingers over my forehead, which used to measure my temperature
Nursing me back to health and smile from fever.
And massaged my tired back with mustard oil
Before a winter bath.
Slipped away every so slowly away from me
Farther and stranger.

The earthen lamp lit for prayers at dusk
Will miss the caressing echo of your voice
Repeating the hymns we sang in joy.
Your slippers would have no one to wear them
And run after me to join me in my walks.
Demeaned and even insulted, to whose eyes everyday
Shall I look into to find respect and trust fathomless?

day 5 - poem 6

I know not of the sun
Getting up from the bed of the eastern sea
But I have seen you raise eyelids to look up.

May not have touched with hands
Dew-drops dancing on a rose petal
I have but felt your tender lips.

They talk of the warmth of dove's wings
Who never have snuggled and
Slept in your arms.

With closed eyes when I soak-in,
The scent of your breath
I wish, I never breathe out again.

The eighth note, I discovered
Was the music in your laugh
More than the whisper of the stream.

The tired sun melts into the outstretched
Palm of the horizon and
I have found rest in your heart.

day 4 - poems 4-5

I

We met
And I had thought
We would do so more often.
Still I catch you in my mind, eyes
Do you?

II

This match
Like all the rest
Will have people take sides
For region or reason; decide,
It starts.

(writing before I (still undecided) start for an IPL (read lots of money) cricket match)

First attempt at Cinquain poem (2-4-6-8-2 syllables)

day 3- poem 3

Not This

Have you seen that one man?

Who did not have any name

Came from nowhere; his form

But too blurred to frame.

-

Water, earth, sky, wind, fire;

None of these it was ever

Nor any of the senses, objects;

Smell, taste, sight, touch or hear.

-

It can not be the mind restless

It merely did witness thought's movement

What analysed and judged the world

Was not it, but it's intellect patient.

-

Not for itself, but for ego mighty

Did it gather and posses a lot.

Friend, beloved, master, student,

Child, father: were just forms it begot.

-

No options it has than itself,

Its form is but formless,

Here and everywhere,

Now and everytime, It Is.

("Inspired" by 'Atmashatakam' by Shankaracharya)

day 2 - poem 2

de-sire

Beware of this potent seed - desire:
Sown in fertile mind, fruit it must bear.
Once fulfilled something else does it transpire
Thwarted, often turns to sorrow, anger.
Seated on the throne that governs the land
It cracks the whip like a dictator pitiless,
Thoughts and actions move as per command,
Judgement blindfolded, will powerless.
It's real nature, not easily discerned at first
Deludes us to believe, there is something to gain.
'Hemlock' we realise later, only increases the thirst
And to a raging fire more fuel does one add in vain.
Howsoever tempting and repeated be its call,
Do as less or if possible nothing with it at all.

day 1 - poem 1

together

all live here:
minute seconds of space
in tiny holes of time

(My attempt at writing Haiku)