Last encounter

That was the last time we met,              Our LAST ENCOUNTER…                        The sunny afternoon spilled Gold            on the sands, sprinkled yellow powder.

 

You were walking on the shore            Did you not see me?                                  Or did you forget the times,                  We thought we’re meant to be.

 

So I walked slowly closer,        Reminiscing about the time            Destiny brought us together                  The sloping sun, a witness divine

 
Now, we stand, one before another  Your face holds a warm familiarity    But how my heart breaks at the sight    Of the girl beside you, in her eyes, I see pity.

 
You talked to me slowly, looking at me straight                                                “Stacey, how have you been? ” you said Did you too, like them believe, I had gone mad?                                                You smiled at your wife and said “just an old friend ”

 
How long has it been?                            How fast time has ran.                          They call me mad now,                            But I kept waiting on the sand.

And I kept waiting on the sand,

For you.

Kala pani / Black water

Cutting through the depths of dark

screamed, a voice glum

“Don’t you fret mother

Vande mataram”

Our heads rose high

He’s dying for our mother

Our blood started to boil, 

To avenge our deceased brother 

We’ll gladly be gone, 

Be it, if death comes

We’ll embrace with open arms

Whatever be the outcome 

We will come back one day, 

We will fight for our nation

Mother, don’t loose faith in us, 

We’ll break free of this prison

Did you really think, binding me

in this blackness I’ll die? 

But what is darkness for you

For me, is brighter than light

Everywhere I see, is black

This darkness is revolting,

Time stands still, in fear, 

This darkness is liberating. 

-a freedom fighter from inside the Cellular Jail

Nation Envisioned

Where the mind is without fear          And the head is held high
Where sadness is ample.                              But equal are the smiles
Where two meals a day.                    Doesn’t seem like a Dream
Where power doesn’t supress.                The poor deafening scream.
Where the mind is without fear.          And the head is held high
Where my daughter fights back.            She doesn’t cry.
If you dare to put a finger.                      On as much as her hair
She will kill you at the spot                    She won’t play fair.
Where the mind is without fear.          And the head is held high
Where humans won’t be animals.        And animals will survive.
Where my four limbed stray friends  Won’t be stray anymore
Have a peaceful life.                                Not a victim of brute force.
Where the mind is without fear,          And the head is held high
Where humans won’t strive.                  To get their basic rights
Where respect and love.                    Form stronger bonds than birth
Create the Nation of their Dreams ,  Make the sacrifices worth.
Into that heaven of Freedom ,my Father,Let my country awake.

Falsche Liebe

‘Love’ in the modern world, wants the humane touch ,..

For people these days, have attempted, however miserably, to objectify it. 

The word ‘love’ has been repeatedly used by all sorts of people in all sorts of things that it has lost it’s original essence.. 

And in their ventures to commodify it, love has been made so commonplace an entity that , The purest of emotions, and so beautiful a sensation ,once ,has been debased into the most trivial of things, as if a rag doll, played once with much gaiety, but eventually grown weary of it and without so much as a fleeting glance deserted it, impure and blemished. 

So rather than trying to objectify love in the forms of insta stories and facebook statuses, let’s try to drench ourselves in it’s ever falling rain of kindness and passion…of longing and devotion … 

Let us all be a bit less robots and a little  more human. ….

A Tale Untold

So I walk down the paths,                              Of gravelled roads and broken pasts.

Of futures bright, all left unsaid,                    Silence forced, and forever laid. 

As I walk, I sweep my eyes,                              Over the rocks, A hundred miles,

And See,                                                          See the reality,

For what it is,                                                      For what it says, 

These people,                                                      Standing upon their graves,

No loved ones to visit,                                        No loved ones now lives

They are all dead,                                              Buried in soiled beds. 

Some wealthy Tyrant’s deed,                            The lust for Power and Greed

Like a Sabre, Huge and Vile,                            The many lives, it Sacrificed,

Their ghosts now stand,                                    Faces ashen,                                                        With blood drenched fights,                             And trails of pain. 

With hands outstretched,                                  They seem to ask,                                                Who robbed them of                                          Their Corporeal Mask? 

To tell the tales,                                                  I walk down the path ,                                    The gravelled roads, I take,                              And leave behind my heart. 

____________________________________________

Relive the massacres of Eastern Ghouta, Syria in this poem

Numb

Every time I look back,                                      I see it all again.                                                  The memories so fresh,                                    driping like rain,.

Wrinkles of time,                                                So hard to erase.                                                The difference made this time,                        Is everything it takes.

Your Savior, you say?                                        The one who shows you light?                        To stitch your broken parts,                            With the world, for you, fight. 

I’ve tried so hard to be,                                      To be the one to nurse,                                      But Baby                                                              Let me heal this time,                                        For I’m hurting worse.    

Broken heart

It smashed down a little 

Took away a lot

A few pieces left 

A few more, to sort.

Unnamed Amour

Love is blind,                                    Undefined.                                                        Why then, the Chains,                              Their freedom bind?

                To love, and be loved,
                Is no grave crime.
               Two hearts benign,
               Their feelings may rhyme.

Then, why can’t a lass
To a lass, vow lifetime?
A man, in the arms
Of another, solace find?

               Deep down inside, we must
               Love our own kinds.
              Shattering, the clichéd wall,
              Of our prejudiced minds

Harlot

Tainted and torn,                                      Painted with scorn.

               Cursing the day,                                              Of unfortunate born

Shadows of the night,                          Dreading the morn.

               With hearts, forlorn,                                          They walk on.

Scum of the Sun,                                      Moon’s delight

               For how little,                                               With the world, they fight

Respect, their want,                            Courage, their pride,

             Hope, Of a day,                                               To embrace the light.

Humans, they are too,                                Life’s unbiased child

             Let us not unseam,                                    The wings of boundless flight.

Little Goddess

“Kill the girl”                                                   Amma ji deride,                                                                                                                                    “A bucket of milk,                                          for the`  Shaitan‘s`  bride”.                                                                                        Back at her home,                                          The men all tried,                                                                                                                                  But food and wealth,                                    Were both denied.                                                                                                    “Save us, Lakshmi Ma”                                 To the sculpture, They cried.                                                                                                         From the depths of milk’s ocean,                   The Real Goddess smiled.