Ocean

Of the Ocean, stories I’ve heard.

The magnitude of which, petrifying.

But so is the sky from here, isn’t?

What makes the Ocean different?

Perhaps it’s the same.

The Ocean could eat me up, they say.

But why shouldn’t I let it?

Aren’t I just a drop anyway?

So, like the river, I flow.

Thirsty flowers and fishes drink from me.

Sometimes, I hop on the back of a twig.

Sometimes, a leaf.

For a drop in the river I am,

flowing with the grace of the undercurrent.

Like the river, I surge,

in deep hunger to merge with my Ocean.

Take Me There

Take me there,

where walls are painted

in colors of dawn and dusk

Not with hate and blood.

Let me live there,

where vines embrace

the walls of my room

Nothing made of gold.

Take me into nothing

Where bodies don’t mean a thing

Nor does color or religion.

There, where lives a zillion stories, unheard

You may come with me there,

where silence overpowers

Only if you promise to be

without a word.

New Year's Eve

I’ve had my share of fireworks and bonfires.

Of midnight greetings and gatherings.

Alas! None drowned me in silence.

None put thoughts to rest.

So, this time around,

I slumbered.

No fireworks. No greetings.

Just like the other night.

Birds and flowers woke up the next day.

Just like the other daybreak.

At the last midnight, what changes anyway?

Other than the date?

Dance

Downing the grace of the Earth generous,

I bow in gratitude, at each thud of the feet.

I besought Her consent to dance.

A grand dance of death and its journey.

So, the breath waltzes with the heartbeat

and grace tenderly robs me off gravity.

Hey Shiva! I dance with ache too, in glee,

in the womb of the only dancer known to me.

Shambho

A blast abruptly roars

from faces and things

and everything on which

my eyes stumble upon.

As I devour your scent,

my lips murmur your name.

A name, like a mountain

that stands spotlessly tall.

A surge of colors

as I drink, flare up and flow,

each bleeding into another,

like a drug in an inviting glow.

Does one need any other, I ask?

When they’ve consumed

the loftiest intoxication,

named ‘Shambho’?

Wait

As I silently wait,

I need not tell the world

how it pains to not know

the bliss in your tears.

I need not tell the world

how frequently I implore you

to rid the ego that is

encumbered by fears.

Like a lost girl in a dark forest,

I hanker for that crack of dawn.

A little peep

of sun’s first ray

while impatience persuades me,

to pander to its delicate self.

But I remain faithful-

to wait.

Tale

After a few million breaths,

appears the inevitable last.

Tarnished with bothersome churned flesh

of yesterdays and tomorrows,

you are but a parched leaf

to the hungry mouth of demise.

But the grumbling you

would unquestionably deny seeing

the repeated-ness of your habitual roar.

Only when tales would begin to wrap up

would you desolately notice,

your tale is no different from the one before.