Friday, December 31, 2010

Monsoon Rain and Mother Earth

Drops of rain kissed the longing earth,
Sweet smells rose from his mate’s soft breath,
Fragrance it filled the air millions worth,
When frogs sang their anthem in mirth.

The bride draped in misty clouds,
Walked the aisle amidst the crowds.
Fireworks lit up the sky, bright and loud,
When knots were tied with her head bowed.

Horn-bills greeted the newly weds with hoots,
Bamboo shoots whistled like dreamy flutes.
Peacocks danced their thousand eyes en-route,
Under the arched rainbows to the green honeymoon suite.

Drip, Drip, Drip,
More rains seeped the soil strip.
The land can take no more a bit,
Her body drowned in a deep pit.

Torn is her role between the mother and mate,
Tied to a perplexed fate.
To break the knots of a nuptial conjugate
Or to put her children at stake?

The wandering wind ferried the rain away,
When peeped on the land the golden ray.
Once more a bride she became,
When her hands held the golden bouquet!

~ Trilok ~

Wednesday, November 10, 2010


Your lips touched mine
True, it wasnt the first time
I've kissed many times before
But my lips have finally found shore

Like those horrid fairy tales
Where ogres and demons reign
Slowly the princess withers
Till the prince looses her chains

~ It is a rather poor translation of a Bengali poem. I happened to come across this in my collection and I felt I should put this up here.

Thursday, October 21, 2010


The dust. On the Path.
Traversed many a times
Over past eons.
The sun shines overhead.
Sometimes, the moon smiles.
And on dark days and cold nights
The rain lashes on pedestrians
And the Road.

I walk the Road now.
It's scarred bosom- the ravages of time
Tell of days passed by- centuries, millenia
My journey so significant, so insignificant
Is there any rhyme or reason to this universe?
A few people walk around me. Their company
give delusions of purpose. Makes me want to go on.
My friends. Brothers.

Thursday, October 7, 2010

Dewdrops on grass

Winter and dawn.
And a droplet of dew,
Onto a rugged blade of grass.

Naive, I exclaim,
"How lovely the droplet.
How rugged the blade of grass."

You smile,
"Every drop of morning dew
Needs her grass to settle down,
And every weathered grass aspires
A moistened jewel in his crown.

Behold the lovely pair."

Tuesday, August 17, 2010


Staring out,
Through the rainwashed glass
Of my hostel room window.
Watching the grey of the weeping sky
Dissolve into the green of the dancing leaves.

A sweet pain of longingness in my lonely heart.
A bitter joy of holding onto false hopes.
The void in me growing bigger
With each passing moment;
Screaming for more space,
Overflowing through my eyes.

Sitting here on my bed,
Hugging my pillow,
And wishing.
Wishing for a thousand wishes.

Wishing that I could go back home;
Wishing that the rain would never stop;
Wishing that you were here to catch my teardrops.
Even though I know that wishes never come true.

Friday, August 13, 2010


Even the darkest nights bloom
When dreams are watered
Sure there is a safe abode..
Ringing laughter
Flowers of spring and beads of sunshine
Shade of green and peace of blue
You are never too cold for loving
Never too dead for giving!

Wednesday, July 21, 2010

Dunes by Nick Drake

Your heart is more complicated
than the coastline of Norway;
but then you decide to describe
a place you had forgotten
until this moment, a secret beach
discovered by luck or chance,
the long curved shore exactly answering
to the description of the waves,
a far echo of Atlantic ultramarine, salt and glitter
returning home at last
just as you say: There we could be
nudists nesting in a sand dune's heat and hush
of two freak waves in step
that cancel each other out
as if sea stood still and listened
for one strange moment
to the truth;
afterwards, on tide-ribbed sand we'd find
six eggs unbroken in a box,
a cornelian the colour of light,
and a milk-carton from Quebec.

Thursday, July 1, 2010

Windy Dreams

One stormy night she came knocking on my door

I flew the door open and was taken into a trance:

She rolled out a carpet and vanished into a spell

Hell broke loose, she mesmerized the gale

Round and round she whirled,

Swirling, swishing, sparkling magic!

He lit a match in the rear, she burnt into a tear

He hit a thunderous cloud, she hushed behind a shroud

She sobbed, she chanted, she hearkened to my silent guard

She twisted and turned, she whined till her whimpers waned

She blew on my face n' played with my hair

She kissed on my cheek n' tiptoed into the air

Oh I love her! I love her!

When she bursts with gusto

Alighting on my guise, like shards of ice

How I love her! Oh I do!

As she tempts me to life

Flashing her lashes in the tryst with time!
(May 7, 2008..inspired by a rain storm in Pilani)

Wednesday, June 30, 2010

Even so, remember me (Tobu mone rekho)

Translated lyrics of Tagore's song "Tobu mone rekho":

Even so, remember me
Even so
Remember me.
Even if far away I stray
Remember me.

If old love gets slowly buried
Under the strands of a new love's mesh
Even so,
Remember me.

Even if I am just
And yet you cannot see me;
I become like a shadow
Shrouded in doubt
Remember me.

If tears well up
And cloud your eyes
If tears
Well up
And cloud your eyes
If suddenly one day
The games come to a halt
On a lovely night
Even so, remember me

If suddenly one day
All work gets obstructed
On an autumn morn
Even so, remember me

If, remembering me,
Remembering me
Tears do not well up
In the corner of your eye
Remember me
Remember me, even so, remember me.
Notes on translation:
The phrase "mone rekho" translates in English to "remember". I have had to add 'me' ("remember me") to preserve meaning. However, it detracts from the open-ended sense of beauty of the original phrase.
The repetition of phrases and break-up of sentences into lines follows the manner in which the original is sung.

Thursday, June 17, 2010

The rush of blood
Pumping into my head
Makes me feel good.
The scratching grows
on the stupid marks
on the wall
Until they start to grow red
from the blood oozing out
of the frayed end of my fingers.

I throw a laugh
A shrill, empty one
at generally nothing
I know soon I'll cry
and then the steak knife
will curve the mark
at a place still uncorrupted
with the scar tissue
from previous wounds.

My pills all lie
mixed with my weed
In a corner of my bed
Where Megan Fox often sits
smoking a Marlboro
And sipping my Johnny Walker
The one I used
To wash down the sleeping pills
Two months ago.

The shadow never goes
and the sleep never comes
Even as the nightmares drag on;
I have a wash basin
Filled with tissues
Soaked in my blood
That I burn every midnight
Am I alive? Am I dead?
Am I the undead? Am I Insane?

Monday, April 5, 2010

Demise of the artist

More and more the mind
Seeks solace within the head.

It does not yearn to fly again,
With the flock of storks over foggy fields;
Or to hop with monsoon frogs,
From leaf to leaf, across lily ponds.

Quite mysteriously, it has silently succeeded
In forgetting all those pleasures.

Instead, it now remains obsessed
With a corner within the cranium,
Where it has housed itself

Crouched in that dungeon,
Chained down by time,
It sits and works,
Like clockwork.

Perhaps it is too scared to float out:
Some unknown fear engulfs it now,
And it seeks comfort in cages.

It now longs for the assurance
Of meaning, over existence,
For a certitude
In the social orderliness.

Alas, it has got diseased
With this perfect sanity,
And there is nothing I am able to do about it.

Saturday, April 3, 2010


There is a tranquil dragon inside me
And the pain is receding pretty well
The bygone days bring pleasant memoirs
And tomorrow promises a year ahead
Sedated, I stroll serenely along the woods
My hopes are sated and born are desires
Over the meadows as I walk a winter morning
I crush the fresh dew and the dirt clings on me
I immolated myself and left me forlorn
Your malevolent expectations are dead
And along with you buried inside the tomb
But still I grieve beside your grave
Every dawn when I genuflect, I see
The horizon till the eternity screaming
And dry tears paving a path for the smiles.

Thursday, April 1, 2010


On the other side of the morning
Searching for a truth nobody told me
Melancholic memories, emotions estranged
Anxiety, worry, anger, boredom and love
Healing my day, mundane and monotonous
The thorns don’t prick me anymore
Neither do the roses smile at me
I hate to wake up the sun, and the moon too
Celestial pleasure is not what I seek
Neither a jet plane nor a bicycle
Just a bit of rocket science may be
God exists, but only in reincarnated mind and hearts
How the conflagration camouflages the carnage
In this hour’s tiny life blends tomorrow’s uncertainty
And astrology is just an astronomical philosophy.

Monday, March 15, 2010

Winter Sun

I love the sun in winter!
But time flies, winter subsides
The sun takes charge
And i don't remain the same.

~ Rysha Hamza

Monday, March 8, 2010


A pale(dying) petal bathed in the rain
A lone(broken)twig, blighted and gnarled
Do they seek each other in their endless streams of thought
In their rusty lives,in their quiet deaths?!

Thursday, March 4, 2010

The kingdom reduced to rubbles
Lost in time....
No ornate palace
No golden chariot
No flowers to adorn His path..

Yet in the ravaged courtyard, the wind fans a fallen leaf
And the dewdrops smile in sleep!

Thursday, February 18, 2010

At Last

At last the clock has turned, at last the warmth is fading
Among the woods of my neighbourhood, I stand to shed my leaves
Like moments drowned in wine, smoking away the past.

Me, my friend and a heart I love all will quench my thirst
Not to let me grow bold and brave but to water my nostalgia
But I am lost, in the search for warmth, in the search for smile.

Too many desires I have fulfilled, too many lives I have lived
Today this hour I wish for one hour more of my favorite emotions
One hour more of the time we smiled, of the time we grieved.

My soul, my fellows, the men I owe I here to admire me one last time
On my road to freedom, of the heat, the rain and the cold, I would dream
That one night, by the roadside, I am relishing with them the words I lost.

And the day next I will wait for the spring like an angel wearing green
Infant twigs will sooth my heart, remind me the autumn cold and blue
But the road ahead is too long to sit and talk, too short for a silent walk.

Monday, February 15, 2010

The Last Grain

In the moist breathe;
Through the stifled throat
As beads of fear
Shroud the craggy lines of fate.

The netted beams of the moon,
Through the monsoon clouds
And the reeky night; they
Glimmer on the murky puddles
In the backyard.

The last drops of oil
Feed the wick; the flame
Flutters in the icy breeze.
A trickle down her cheek,
As the knells croon …
The last grain of time drops.

Sunday, February 14, 2010

A Valentine's Day

Another dry day in Pilani.
Another dawn, shrouded
By the misty moist.
It is still dark.
And all are asleep. Only I sit,
Gazing blankly at a moon
That belonged to some other dawn.
The sun isn't up yet,
It all seems familiar,
Yet, not quite.

I am unmindfully wondering,
Of someone sitting far away,
Maybe thinking, maybe not,
Maybe just blissfully asleep,
Maybe planning to spend the day
With someone;
Awake with excitement.
It isn't a pleasant thought.
How strange!

Today seems so empty,
All around seems a void,
Seemingly having cleared space
And waiting for someone.

I haven't been cured yet.
Maybe I’m just incurable,
Yet it's not the same.
Maybe I have just grown up.
The same excitement hasn't remained, just
The moist joy
Of gazing blankly at the morning moon.
Feb, 2006