The mossy green steps of the pond

The slippery stones are mostly avoided

There, under the drooping roots from the banyan branches

One can find the lonely thin kid with curly hair

With a bunch of little wild flowers

That all says are bad coz they smell wild

There, by the dark green water and the green shadows

He sits with his chin on his knees

Sitting and chatting with his friend, from morning till dusk

No one can see his friend, but can see him talk

Though he listens more, and draws while listening

Drawing with imaginary brush and colors

A real picture for his real friend

Once he tried making a hut near the steps

That lay unfinished as it sunk in the soft mud

Now he makes a kite to climb to the clouds

And make a boat with some of its pieces

Does one know what he will do with his boat?

 

 

 

Snap Snap Snap

Moment from futures album

Captured yesterday

 

The head on the chest -

And Silk sprayed around,

Two face in one mirror-

Chin to head or cheek-to-cheek,

Sparkle in the eyes,

And the uneven teeth emerging in smile

No boundary, no distance

Verbal lies and silent truths shared

 

Moments – treasured

Till they come alive in future

 

Do you know love?

Do you know me?

Do you know my love?

Do you know what?

Do you know what I love?

Do you see?

Do you see my love?

Do you know why?

Do you know why I love?

Do you believe?

Do you believe in love?

Do you believe in my love?

 

 

My Selfish Agenda

Want to see the smile finding a permanent place

On her lips

And every now and then

Releasing a gush of giggle and laughter – untamed

Its my selfish agenda

 

My Selfish Agenda

Wanted to see myself as her permanent custodian

To care for her

And put and invisible arm around

To ward of all the thorns, strengthening her each step

It’s my selfish Agenda

 

My Selfish Agenda

The real selfish agenda is to steal a glance at her

Every now and then

To block off all my tears and pain

From here till the last breath, have and be the best friend

My selfish agenda

 

The trees in the village hug each other

The leaves touch, they lean and kiss

They share the air and light and space

The sun light filters down the great ones

To the tiny ones below in their shade

 

In the concrete jungle of cities, there’s no hug

No touch, lean or kiss – as they fear falling down

They do not share, as it violates their existence

No touch – and if they lean – they still have boundaries

Love in their own rule – proximity with safety

 

Two decades – and still need to go back

 To that time and space of village

To remind me what it means to hug

And feel and love and kiss – the way it should be

The only way it could be – done and lived

 

 

 

Does an angel change if it becomes a guardian angel?

Does hi power, goodness and importance becomes less

If it looks and feels and cares for just one soul?

 

How does it feel to be an angel?

How does it feel to be a guardian angel?

Is a guardian angel less loved than an angel?

 

 

When I was walking down the street last night

It started raining

Small droplets on my bare face

Turning my head up I looked up to it

Asked, if it was the same rain back home?

Does it taste – smell – feel, the same?

Does it love me in the same way?

Alien rain in alien land

It couldn’t even reach near my heart

 

Did I tell you I missed the rain?

Did I tell you I missed – my rain?

Did I tell you I missed the touch of my rain?

Yes I felt it, smelled it, looked at it –

Searching for a touch, a scent, a smile,

 

It rained last night

And I got drenched.

 

 

Bare trees line the streets in December

Wrapped in lights to make them look good

Do they look good in lights

Or is it the green leaves that make it look alive

Should one expect the winter tree to offer beauty and shade

 

I prefer to wait

To give it the time it needs

I prefer hope than expectation

Hope to see the trees come alive and love you back

 

This time I am not hopeful

I am not hopeful because I am sure

Because I know –

Come spring, and the blooms will be back

Its only a matter of time

And the tree will have its shade

And the tree will have its blossoms

And the tree will be ready to offer love

 

- fools who expect

- fools who demand

- fools who want

From a bare waiting dreaming tree

And I lay here

Engulfed in blinding glow

Cocooned in soft warmth

Floating in rising bubbles

Immersed in the scent so known

Feeling touched all over

Waiting to open by eyes

And see you beside

See, and hear and touch

Its been long since I was here

Its been long since I felt like this

Its been long since I felt loved

Its been long since I saw your smile

 

Love might have changed its meaning for you

But it still means the same to me

What it meant when the kid used to run amuck in its kingdom

It still means freedom of soul for lifetime

 

Love might have changed meaning for you

But it still means the same to me

What it meant for the teen dying to fetch the stars for it

It still means dying for that one smile, every-time

 

Love might have changed meaning for you

It still means the same to me

What it meant for the angry youth being denied a touch

It still means accepting every bit of the loved one

 

Love might have changed meaning for you

It still means the same to me

What it meant yesterday when the dreamer was building its nest

It still means decorating a world fit for its queen

 

Love might have changed meaning for you

It will still mean the same to me

What it will mean to the bald old man kissing a sleepy old forehead

It will still mean holding the head close to heart