Mine...

Hoping to own all that's perceived to be yours,
You run your way, trying to veer from me.
Failing, finding none to cast the truth
Over you, your mind, revert you will,
Back towards my simple form that speaks,
And reflects your nascent feelings.
Remind me of a moment that I parted,
Or one of my slighting!
And you shall have your freedom.
The freedom- not that which singles you out
But which builds chaos in you,
Then which takes other senses off,
And will bring in you the fright I gushed.
Away. Till now. You be not free truly
As you are with me. Within my fort . Protected.
Much of what I speak to you through my silence
Holds all the love. You wait for the dark
To put me away. And I am the light.
There's this world's dark irony!
You be dreaming. But last learn,
That life's not just a dream
But a dream in a dream in a dream,
Truly a lie, Truly far from truth.
And I am the only truth. That will stay on with you.
I'm not just a shadow but your true other half.   

Inhibitions...

But what holds me back
While I with every that’s best as the
Deepest senses of mine take towards you
And touch all of the concrete verses
That you lightly and mellifluously pour
Into my mind?
All the wildest notions about you
Creep, wander in and wither down
My soul’s free will and binds to yours.
What was in me before? What was juggling in?
That moment escaped far
And I crave to know it while I fail my self.
No questions can tie me down to that time.
And no answers shall evade me.
Yet, yet even as I lose my conscious being,
Yet as I wonder over the pain that warns me
To close and turn closer to your meaning,
I fail to turn towards you
And realize the truth you expose.
Your music holds me back.

The Freedom...

Where the mind is led forward by thee
Into ever-widening thought and action
Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake. (Tagore)

 At the stroke of the midnight hour, when the world sleeps, India will awake to life and freedom. A moment comes, which comes but rarely in history, when we step out from the old to the new, when an age ends, and when the soul of a nation, long suppressed, finds utterance...... (Nehru)

"Shall we take along the heaven earned,
the thoughts concealed in the minds of those radicals,
the fighters, the martyrs who burned their lives
for this every moment that we are breathing,
For us to take forth the fire they doled out
and become the one they wanted us become?
Shall we fight through the times that shall lead us
Into the brightest future yet to come?
Shall we unite to drain all the banes that still exist
To corrupt our world?
And bring forth fresh life into everything that could ever live?
Freely? With no qualms nor angst about self?"

It is fitting that at this solemn moment, we take the pledge of dedication to the service of India and her people and to the still larger cause of humanity...... (Nehru)

Jai Hind ... !!

Inner music

I trust no more the speeches,
Encomiums nor the disdains of us mortals
For once and for the last time I heard
The wordless yet philosophical,
Ordered and reverberating notes
From the adorned home of my soul.
It is but the only chime that ever shall stay
With me, ever into my endless journeys into
The whole search of self and parts,
Never crossing the shallowest river of my life.
I envied and was awed at the wondrous art
Of the eternal singers, of the nature's embellished
Nightingales and cuckoos whose heartful music
Shall flow and purify my subconscious mind.
No more shall I for I found a source
More spiritual than intonations of holy mantras,
And more golden and lasting than ethereal silence.
The cries, smiles and pains of the worldly beings
Are towards me more strikingly,
Into my constructs and instincts, now.
And so teaching me unrelenting and suffuse love,
I hope that my music shall vanish before I'm
Back into the veiled and worldly world.
I trust me no more.    

Stillness ...

When the mind is still, the universe surrenders. (Buddha)
What universe?
The one we live in?
Or the one we create within us?
One is perceived and one appears to be real but distorted.
Distorted by our own senses,
Distorted by predispositions and prejudices.
When everything stands still for a fraction of a moment,
When the electrified brains completely come to an instantaneous halt,
An infinitely rather ultimate energy,
In the form of a feeling would flow into the subtler existence
And forever alter the way of perceiving, wherein the universe
Has no more self or other. They tend to unite.
And hence surrender as one gains or wins omniscience,
Though ephemerally. That is where reason ends
And what we search for lies, the ultimate truth.

Song of heart...

Can you touch light at the feel of sight?
Can you chase your mind with blink and might?
If we believe in all what eyes say,
If we dream to be all what our dreams show,
Why then not chase a dream?
Why then not live in a dream?
The dream that love and care is shared all over.
The dream that you and me, and all those
Who smelt our soil have a share in it.
The dream that pain is disbursed from each heart
To every one else in the world.
Why not chase a dream that closes us,
To a heaven on earth? To a motherly world?
To live a life out of love, and death
Is to live not at all.
To live and not sharing happiness,
To live and not being content,
Ah! Never shall I choose that life
To be not lived by others and
Not touching others.
Even touching one and bringing a shine in,
Can heaven apart make you richer.
Can you now touch the light of that shine?
Can you now feel it?
Can your blinks bring in brightness
In the blighted world? Can your might move
The mightiers from mime towards the change of time?
See in yourself. There lies the almighty
That you search all over.

Dreams...

One more last moment that I shall say,
For your being the guest of my unending dreams,
For being at the fringes of my hollow heart,
Forever filling, forever emptying.
That what I heard was but a cry and not a beat.
Cry, cry, Oh poorest of the worlds!
No cry can ever cease you flow,
Until your very whines end self.
A night or a day, whatever it be,
It all seems to verge into a dead end.
Never shall I fear for my-self
But all the pain, all the joys,
All the dreams and your memory!
Should it disappear from life,
Or death, my poor soul can rest not.
Do souls dream? I know not.
If ever, do they dream you?
All, just for a moment of delight,
And yes, I shall forever be, forever live,
For to say one more last moment,
A Good Night, for the wings,
Of my unending dreams to take off. 

Immortals...

You could have immortalized me.
Alas ! I but have become a mean creature
Of this unworthy earthly time.
And oh the conscience!
It found wings to far fly
And to expose self to devils of dead worlds.
When there are no qualms even as mind
Seems to falter at every tick of time,
When hatred and love seems to have vapoured
And the only visible feeling is that of silence.
That silence, which holds the cries
Of unfortunate present,
That which holds the key to unreal pleasures,
That which ends what mind can truly perceive.
And who would bear the rigorous pains of life?
Who would think of the past and clone
The eternal beauties into sumptuous dreams?
This, the reason for my being lost
Into a total unconsciousness, is what drags me
Closer to forced peace and calmness.
But the turbulence inside is forever lost into darkness.
All and yes, you could have immortalized me. You chose not.
I live not closed, in the world when you choose not.
So shall I find me in this rave existence.

Birds...

Two birds part ways, fly high, fall down, die lone.
Their souls walk close, pain less, heart less, love less.
One says "Happy we were crying, smiling even while whining".
The other says "O love! We were living. Now dying.
Dying to live more, crying to smile more. Yet happier I am.
For I can't part now. For I am you now. Forever yours now. For forever."
Their wings catch the eternal fire of love, and disappear to live again.
To live again, love again, whine again, die again. Like just love, forever.

Instincts...

I'm not figurative. It's an impossible truth.
Life seems to have put itself into a question
When it built around it's soul, ruthlessly,
A mind of an abnormal stature. There exists
Of sorts all, caricatures teasing its presence.
The state of being and living,
With unformed and enclosed instincts,
Off from reality, far from perception
Is no more than to live with no instinct,
Like a dead being lying with no senses
That ever reflex. How mind forms the awareness,
Feels it, lives in and with it,
And with only it's bound expanse
In a world with not a feel for reality in entirety
Is insubstantial, to form and forever continue.
Robbed of the power, this flail feeling forces
Into a dissatisfaction. Fears that life may end
With not a completion, with not fulfillment
Seems to have conquered the able thoughts.
Pray I not for pleasures of the world
But a way, the puissance to peep into
A window verisimilar. Pray not to end this way,
In the veneer Of living, living like dying.

Colours of music...

Shall I sing no more? Or can I not?
All that time that's been lost
While my mind was ever, ever searching
For what I couldn't see close here.
Ah not thither! Wherever I touch
I see no thing. Wherever I see
I smell no taste. I have lost all my wits.
And all that's left is just my soul.
Shall I keep even that away?
Shall I walk with no soul?
Shall I search in me for me?
Where was I? Where am I?
I have lost myself. Am I in you?
Am I with you? I no more know.
I can shed tears only in blood now.
I'm like a drowned without you.
I can breathe only from you.
Can you breathe life into me?
Can you say that I'm still alive?
Can you touch my heart and say
That it still sings your name?
That's all truth I ever say.
It's just myself that I lay
Into your warmth, without which
I am dead even alive. Dry and dry.
No more I care. None but thy.
Singing and singing. And more of crying
I think it's all done with me.
I think I'm all done with me.
I think it all ends here.
Just in a tick of light, it all ends here.
It all ends here. Ends here.

Other forces...

A mind game aiming hunting the vitreous heart,
Which piled with it, panes of tales of pain,
With cacophonous voices haunting every other time,
It is but an end game, ending the last visible blink.
Light like my wings have thrusted out,
Dark like my senses have flushed,
Yet feeling that which was never felt.
Giggles with meaning none and shrills one after one
Catch my subtle self and I can no more control.
Not even my thought, nor my mortal will.
Effortlessly I wobble with weightlessness.
Fear? What does that mean?
Ask me. I can dive into seven seas.
But just the name that I shall ever ask me forget.
Ah the names! Aren't they that bring tempest back?
I am a warrior with no shield. Warring myself.
And there the end turns in. An end into myself.
Should I trust my enemy self? No more.
Already warped into nothing. Squaring dose of pain.
Well where was I? On shores of seven seas I guess.
Dancing all the way, like the eternal dance of winds,
And rallying with dust and smoke, I rushed
Back into the arms of nature. Into my early form again.
These forces! Not vital but suppressed my vitality.
Rejuvenated yet extinguished me. Decimated me.
What I am when I am not what I was?
Than a mere speckle of spark less dust.
No more voices. No more giggles. No more pain. No war.
No dance. Nor a moment felt. I'm no more here. And no where.

Ends

What this hardened soul's cry purports?
Hard and weak alike, hard from out and weak within,
Wring my calmness into a tumult of pain, and disorder,
My heart senses troubled time ahead.
Troubled? Or may be a dire end.
An end in itself the end of time in my veins.
It seems as if my breath is culled each moment.
There isn't an absolute end in any way but.
Just here, Just the visible.
I shall live on in the other worlds and 'verses.
The mirrors no more show my true self
For my mind is shattered fully.
Unanswered and unfulfilled, dull and dry,
My eyes seem to decline and dwell in dolors.
Once temperate demeanor disrupted.
No more of my soul's felonies can I bear.
No more of them in my solitude.
The courage. I assume it is nought.
And Strength, over-arched by gruesome fears.
What this flail soul's cry purports?
Nothing. Into nothing, and to the end of nothing.

Mirrors

With revulsion and reluctance you look
Into my surly eyes. Have you read them by now?
Ah! while they scorch into bloody red,
You still stand before them and dare
To earn their wrath. Poor living cells in them.
They are at their deadly high. Born and out.
At once. They do not blink at my rhyme
Nor they at all close and give up.
After all what are they when there is nothing
To hide in them, nothing to protect.
What all can escape escaped.
What all can bleed them bled them.
Poor mirrors. They showed my world in them.
A small world though. They are crass anyways.
So I did them.
With bluntest of my knives.
They were searching for pain. Where it went?
Not up there but down right there.
When heart is pierced already, what more can be?
I still see something. Though far off.
Is it you and me? Never mind. Who's me? No one.
Well if there are nights anymore I'll live in dark.
And if there are any days... Well dark again.
One in one out. Well played world.
A pawn and that's all you'll lose. You lost.

Trains of whole sensed music
That run by my side
Like a butterfly fluttering
By the soft flowing river,
And dancing in my benumbed mind
Raise the emotions that echo again
And tells the tale of a dead lover
Who dwelled in the rain and by fire
Who waited for his only desire
For his heart, to speak to his own.
They carried an air of pain
A flush of smile and love to a mile.
Not just a rhythm and a rhyme
But a full lengthed mime
That ended with tears
Which closed to his bust
In a final act that ended all.
This hush is contained in the music.
And tears engrossed with it's octave,
Making the music dearer
Than just till my ear.