an afternoon slumber’s dream

soft bristling dry leaves dance in the calm december breeze the cold of the morning has disappeared and a full fledged indian sun that is characteristic of any piece of land in India, be it summer , winter or rain blasts through confused weed grasses. the silent sounds of leaves falling down on the ground… Continue reading an afternoon slumber’s dream

Flee, I shall but where to?

Flee, From this land of Death and ordeal From this land of deceit and falsehood, Flee, to be free. As primitive as can be, Nothing has changed not since the days of primeval man, We’re all, but primordial beasts, Hungered by the chains of power. Flee, I shall, But where? To a world where there… Continue reading Flee, I shall but where to?

A world of closed minds and open eyes.

Have you ever seen the sun through dumb windows? These windows, They play in sombre notes Even the loudest tones. These windows, they cease from speaking of what is outside. Dumb windows that colour everything in black, The blue of the sky, A neighbour passing by, Fading sounds of a righteous man's cry All coloured… Continue reading A world of closed minds and open eyes.

A still-lay monsoon afternoon.

A still-lay monsoon afternoon, Sombre sounds from shore-lines afar And the escalating voices of a soft, subtle-d rain. A Constant buzzing in the air From flies with dragon eyes All wandering in search of rain. And Clouds hovered , Over-faces undiscovered On a dull still-lay monsoon afternoon In Expectance of a something that was to… Continue reading A still-lay monsoon afternoon.

Echoed sounds of yesterday.

Just at the train station , Subtle lights half-glowing in orange The sounds of a train that flashed by me Played like echoed haunts  from yesterday. Train after train went by me Sounds, that echoed just the same, But never quite the same. I wandered at the train station for a long time after, Still… Continue reading Echoed sounds of yesterday.

A Receding fire.

A faint fire in the distant, Rising and falling with the harsh winds that blew Now, rising with fierce countenance ; Now, falling with a fizzled rage. Smoke rose, And clouds of black posed In the open, wild skies Like the black in a child’s eyes. The winds blew, And in fits of rage the… Continue reading A Receding fire.