All the promises

All the promises

1 – 10 July 2015

burning 8

The hours still stand by

As space expands in morrow

Slate of time dilates


Crops burnt in corners

Lie idle remnants of past

When food was mundane


Eyes wide with glory

Mind quenched with victory’s thrill

You rule, King of dark


Corpses pile aflame

Memories of hearts that loved

In vanity died


Thrill of chase vanquished

Idle thoughts of loyalty

String of hearts like pearls


I believed a lie

Intoxicating promise

Of a brave New World

Burning district - Courtesy Sancient
Burning district – Courtesy Sancient



11 May 2015


Birds call out your names

Shrill and piping psalmodies

A love’s litany

My heart beats your thoughts

Endless remembrance of pulse


Earth out of axis

Flung helpless out of balance

Craves your healing touch

Soul in unison cries out

For the waves of your embrace


White lambs flock silent

Into darkness of gulley

A shrine’s offering

I walk, my own sacrifice

Into churning dark tempests


The peacock cries loud

Shredded tail plucked one by one

Past token of love

I search for your lost totems

Within every lost Feather


Lands scorched by heat waves

Search for streams to quench their thirst

Though water falters

Chilled by your hesitation

Mind heeds not scorching embers


Seedlings struggle out

The cracks they can escape through

Mutating matter

All within transforms tireless

Inside out and dark to light


The open skies cry

For your long sullen absence

While you watch unmoved

In agony I writhe on

Take me back home for I die


Seven skies, veils and stages

Seven skies, veils and stages

4-5 May 2015


The night breathed darkness

No clouds barred a starless sky

Cloaked in still silence

Muffled thoughts in hooded mind

Spoke not inner wanderings


Dropping seven veils

In Earth’s anticipation

Of oncoming floods

Eye looked upon surging light

Soul bracing itself opened


Photons flew through air

Sky split with bursts of sunlight

Mornings’ flames lit hearts

Fire branded souls’ renewal

The Earth lifted its blue skirts


Birds chirping shrill, clear

Chant seven, seven, seven

Chest heaving with sighs

Whispering soul echoes soft

Seven skies, veils and stages

Seven skies3

Into black and white

Into black and white

22-23 March 2015



Night time brings the dark

That sits supreme over all

Live in beings’ frame

Slight is the heartbeat in chest

When shadows overcome light


Darkness engulfs shores

As seashells crunch under feet

Aimlessly walking

Mind steers direction in heart

As path to somewhere ends stern


The sea’s thunder calls

Deafening recognition

Of forgotten voice

How does one forget whispers

Of beings once clad in light?


Sand seeps through my toes

Grim testimonial of times

Where nothing would last

Mind probes last thoughts in blank walls

As stars etch in a new slate


A flicker lights night

And moving shadows walk tall

Into black and white

Duality is in thought

Though soul knows of times neutral



I am

I am

3 March 2015


I am no token in your dreams

Towards a bridled emancipation

I live a life full and in my streams

There is no governing consideration

I am no lollipop-doll batting eyelids

To the tune of some Pied piper

The path I walk on rolls and skids

I am of the cast fruit the riper


I am the girl who one winter night

Walking through the dark alley

Met those who knew not left from right

And guided her bones to the gulley

I am her soul that slept no more

Trapped in a dark inhuman space

Where cold pervaded her to the core

As heart lurched towards her battered face


I am midsummer wars’ brittle whore

Who one day spread her legs like a fence

Ridding herself of the monster she bore

And brought forth the birth of indifference

I am the child she let out with no pain

Among many a bewildered yet sullen face

For whom there was nothing to gain

In rekindling a lost sense of solace


I am the splintered boy on the beach

Surrounded by what once used to be a home

Whose broken hands a toy would never reach

As his homeless soul would now ever roam

I am the witness of a war born of folly’s pretext

On the primal right to protection of space

A land to house years’ unhappiness next

Acquired through a knitted political lace


I am the grey and forlorn widow

Whose tight sealed lips mourn no more

A husband gone from mind like a blow

Leaving only body and heart sore

I am born from wedlock of no nation

No borders will beckon to my mind

My only name’s calls are in alienation

Where infinite beholds infinite behind


I am a withered yet full green leaf

That looks upon a hurtling tree

That once was like to coral a reef

I am all that once danced free

I am the moon when it meets the sun

And kisses it with ice clad passion

I am the sun for which moon comes undone

As ice melts down with compassion


I am the many and the one

I am tomorrow’s anger and today’s quiet

I am listless loss for there is semblance of none

I am today’s wrath and tomorrow’s riot

I am a taut belly’s writhing hunger

I am through with what’s not right

I am tomorrow’s path lying yonder

I am of the broken weak the might

 I am


Traces of you

Traces of you

1 March 2015


 The moon waxed in sight

Of sparkling lilies that shone

With eerie brightness

In glaring light of your thoughts

A haunting split in heart lurched


Stars high receded

Giving in to the dark night

That crawled over us

Like an octopus creeping

Lurked the traces of discord


Night’s black ink rejoiced

Taking over all terrains

That skies led astray

You wronged me in directions

That led to our every way


The sky vibrant cried

Its muffled voice in grey clouds

A requiem stark

In wailing of our heart’s death

I left no traces of you



19 October 2014


An owl hooted twice

Rising in the desert mists

A fog built its wings

Flight upward beckoned to mind

As memories stirred in sand


A woman rolls dice

A man trusts his only fists

The nightingale sings

Spirit flocks towards its kind

Ushers bow to giving hand


The cutter would slice

And no Page ever resists

Praise to keen ears rings

Coin to great will ne’er bind

As prophets ne’er births a land


Leaking covers run

The flame its death surmises

On boils the kettle

A lost soul in eyes’ hollows

Harkens to mortuary


Winding rivers spun

Deceits’ tales one despises

Up springs one’s mettle

Rising takes not meek fellows

For deeds of noctuary


The clock has struck one

And as the holy rises

Dust does not settle

And the unholy follows

So I claim sanctuary



Keeping the light, staying clean in the fight  

September 1, 2010  

I try with words to keep my sanity  

To keep out the impulsion in me  

Never to think about vengeance  

Trying, awake, to make penance  

But my sanity walks a tight rope  

While I keep the love and hope  

He jabs at me and tries so to cut  

Into my insides, my poor sore gut  

A bit of flesh that I may deny  

All values to turn around try  

To jab him back or him pierce  

His side in an angle so fierce


Fighting back in gut and blood  

Head hung, hands in the mud  

Instead I keep my head high  

Reaching desperately to the sky  

Trying to seize that waning light  

That once shone in me so bright  

And brought me always such solace  

Removing of all ailments the trace  

And as I fight to find, bring me back  

To keep in me of such love the knack  

Knowing I am still there, though slight  

Flexing, crouching under this plight  

I know I fight in firm and strong peace  

Remembering from the ancient Greece  

The word that Rumi tried so to convey  

A blissful, smooth, silken word, Agape