Preview of my obituary

Last Night I had a preview of my obituary

Like my life, it was all chronicles of contradiction

Press and the world celebrated with frenzy, like every death

Filled the columns with lies, laurels and laments

Bestowed with degrees I never had

Treaded the glorious paths I never travelled

Overnight I was made messiah of poor

Whom I had never met

Galloped me with gift of the gab

Flocked my pen with powerful feelings

To make me that orator and author

I never was

My vision, my intellect reached pinnacles

Which I never dreamt of

‘Garlands galore’ was the headlines

For a sole wreath with stinking smell of death

Mine was mere immersion into infinite oblivion

They made it an image immortal

I laughed and slipped into slumber

To wake up as a posthumous celebrity!

And see how an obscure autobiography

Was made a best - selling obituary!

A Heavenly Hug

My winter was not frozen, this time

November was a rain of romance

December was that warmth of relations

January is indeed not frozen

Bringing the warmth of hope

Waiting for the visit of my little angel

She is floating in the flux of fluid

Wandering in the warmth of womb

Swimming her way to the light of life

From her pristine prelude to life 

Bouncing on to my bare bosom

Wonder! My winter is not frozen

When heavens played swaps with the seasons

It’s celestial shower of sunshine in my life

She is dazzling as divine…pristine as petals

For once, the lily laments

And the river ruptures

For want of beauty and serenity

For, my little angel stole it so innocuously!

(* wrote a few days before the birth of my son in January, 2015. “She” in the poem is a gender neutral reference. Happened to be “Him”…dazzling as divine…pristine as petals!)

An Epitaph for Future

Past will never die…

Lives like the eternal; the perpetual prick

Present will one day become that forgetful past

And will not ever die

Future is the only mortal, certain to perish

Uncertain to bloom….and exist

Let’s mourn for the future, the futile mortal

Preserve the ethereal past…

Celebrate the ailing present

And lament the ephemeral future!

Liberated

Freedom to fall from my starry sky…

And ramble with the wind

Without ever reaching the barren ground

Freedom to float in my ocean of obsession

Without ever waves barging me back to shore

Freedom to snuggle in my insane sand dunes

Without ever drops of sense soaking me up

…... to scream in my valley of silence

Without ever sound of sanity scorning me

Freedom to swim in the darkness

Without ever dawn clasping me

And to flutter like a kite

Without ever reaching the horizon

Freedom to drown down deep in the dumps…

…in my abyss of agony

Without ever reaching the road of rhapsody

Freedom to travel in my timeless trance

Without ever reaching the dawn of despair

Freedom to empty myself

And plunge me deep into love and lust

Freedom to wine on scores of nectar

Without ever a whining from my flowers

Freedom from fidelity!

Freedom unto my blissful solitude

Far from the mayhem of madding crowd

Liberated….unto my emptiness …

….to the eternal…to the ethereal

In Search of Identity

Who am I…. ?

An acrobat….?

An acrobat in the ladder of life,

who falls and pants in the midway.

A merchant….?

A merchant of dreams….,

who trades his dreams for a penny….

….for a penny which earns nothing….,

but tears….

Or am I a prisoner?

A Prisoner of the past….,

who chains the self behind the bars….

…. behind the bars of darken thoughts.

A bird….?

A bird of passage…,

which flies across the skies

like a kite without a course.

A warrior…?

A warrior who fights with own shadow

….to conceal the scars of ego.

Or am I a myth….?

A myth which is untold…

….never realized and never happened.

Claps and clamours echoed in the air….

of those inherited lot….

who scorns and taunts at those

who live in search of identity.

I blossomed and I perished

In this barren land of bizarre….

Without knowing who I am.

Mind Speaks!!!

I want to shed some tears….

…..don’t know why.

But I want to shed some tears….

On my own wounded feelings

On my own fate… on my own life..

On my own spirit and soul…

…. Just to fill the valley of sorrows.

I want to sketch my life

On my own shadow….

Just to realize it’s a folly….

…. for, I have no shadow.

Oh mind! Where you lost yourself?

No! It’s with me…. But it lost something

Some waves on its way to shore.

I want to dance…

Dance to the tunes of life.

But I failed…. for, it lacks rhythm.

I can see a glimmer….

A glimmer of hope which nestles with my dreams.

…. Just to realize those are some illusions.

But I am satisfied….

For, life could offer nothing else.

And I heard once mind speaks to death….

“Oh death, you are dearer than life”.