The Red Deeps

(A grove where Philips and Maggie used to meet)

Mill on the Floss

Why men mummify their past ?

Build mausoleums in their minds and heart ?

Why they nurture the ashes of time?

And always breathe hard and fast ??

... I was yet to learn.

Your presence, always alone

Longing for Maggie's side

In Red Deeps,where limps

Had made a bed for autumn

Embarks a journey for tears ...

Your pure eyes, frustrated

By the loss of "single chance of happiness"

when rise to watch two birds singing

Just above the head-branch

I learnt -

the Power of the Moments

Their Might and before them

A meek, timid , and prone I.

Yeah philips! I can't see any deformity

In your poetic look

- In your unsaid words

Which always struggled,with palpitations

Victoriously asserted themselves

In the rudeness of Time.

I'm not shocked at all

To see myself in Red Deeps

Following an old philosophy -

Longings can never be brushed aside -

Which was some day, strangled, I found, Could never die

But became an Oasis of Life.

The Rock

Then, the dusk set in-

And the golden Disk disappeared

To the other side of the rock

And he, still hanging,

Kept on thinking about his existence

What had there been, which he might have lost ?

Here, many a sun wasted and many a moon spoilt

Until now, he never saw himself at things

Which made love die in the lover's very eyes.

This rock never held him in promise

But his heart said all otherwise.

Was that mere a passion-

Why was then his eyes wet and soul so bright?

Every jerk now and then,

Writing a new expression-

Garbled his sense of doing and being.

Questioning seeking, sometimes retiring -

Desperate for even a little niche.

And he recalled- a Battle field

A vast armada of tragic flaws and total black out

Reluctant Hamlet -Hesitant Arjuna

Both in need of a walking stick.

Then the call-"Arjuna! Don't live for the End."

"You can't live upto the End."

He found himself at peace

Perplexities- ruffles of the disturbed mind

Chinks and crumbles falling of rock on his being

Looked like Rain drops in the poor man's field.

Thus, he was hanging-

He dared not look below

(for it, he had lost the sense of belonging. )

He was not feeling like looking above

(for,he simply could not imagine.)

He was feeling the rock

Was it love? - the question lost its meaning

Now,his eyes were daubing every inch of the space in between...

He knew not what if conquered

As he could die too with a gust of wind

All expectations pruned - all questions dropped

He was in delirium or simply feeling at home.

Breeze

It blowed once in life time

over the oases

over the crumbling walls once built by the heart-

over the iron roofs of the long cherished dream-

over the charred pages and sorrows just impaled...

It outwitted the squalls

Blessed to blow over as long as to sail-

And I was left-

Dumb struck

With a bleak hope to see it blowing again...

An Expression

I don't like suddenness

The awakening of a latent fire-

I fear to burn from.

When lava erupts-

(don't look at me standing aghast)

Below the volcano, I always bear it

As i can't move- being paralysed.

Haven't I said?

I have seen my own death-

Like Phoenix, always been reduced to ashes

Somehow recreate from devastedness

- A new way of life.

oh change! now welcome

To my igneous self.