कहीं कुछ और

हम तो युहीं सोच चले थे!
वो जो कल का टूटा था
कब वो बिखरे को जोड़ पाया है,
कुछ पहेलियाँ तो बुझाने वाला
भी ना सुलझा पाया है.

हम तो युहीं चादर में समेटने निकले,
रद्दी की चादर कब क्या बटोर लाया है.
क्यों सोच लेता है यूँ ये दिल ;
की ख़ुशी के दो पल मूँद ले किसी और के लिए,
जो अपने लिए ना ढूंढ पाया,
वो किसी और का संवारने चला है!

एहसास

काश  आज साये को बोल देता

तू अक्स बन पीछा न कर

अन्जाने तो युहीं  में ,

तू भी अन्जान बन, अक्स न बन.

समझ मैं बहुत आता है ,

जो परे है उससे , तू वो वास्ता न बन,

छोड़ चार दिवारी , मस्त मौला बन.

ना बन पाये तू साकी, ना सही,

हर झूट का एहसास तो मत बन!

In another's memories

You watch as she runs oblivious to the shore. There is nothing holding her but what she has inside of her. What she loved and what she was. The parts of her that was hers and hers only. She stands there at the crossroads of twilight looking deep into the sea. What she searches for is for her to know. All you can do is walk soft steps for naught else can be done.

You do not fill any emptiness. A shadow is all but that. It stands behind. Watches and feels but watches only. For it can never be the support she needs. It cannot cocoon her in its arms for its arms point another way. A shadow was made and a shadow it remains.

She holds the sands in her hands. Sands have a weird way of making it back to where it came from. You cannot stay. You want to tell her that. But she will not listen. She is somewhere else. Somewhere between that place where the sea ends and the waves begin. Somewhere between where the sun sets and the moon begins. You look at the sun. You cannot set with it. The sun will never be your companion.

The moon rises over. The moon can never be yours, She opens with a mind of her own. The waves do not belong to you either. They left you a long time ago. Even the shore you stand on is in her memories. You intrude. You cannot go back elsewhere because there is no where else to go. You tried to go but the part of you that was you stayed back. It always stayed back

You want to tell her! The sands will never stay in her hands. It is not in the nature of the sands. She can let the waves take it. They can wash it clean. But harder she holds. Those sands slip, a grain at a time. She holds harder and all she can feel is her hand and the sands slipping away.

She will realize when her hands are empty. She will feel her hands again. When she does, she will move on. She would never realize.

You stand there. Left at crossroads in a twilight that's not yours. You stand alone in a world not yours. It never was. You followed for it is the nature of a shadow. And shadows someday will be shed. For the night she walks off to, a shadow has no meaning.

The shadow remains. This sunset was not yours. This sun will never rise. Some places you can walk out of. Some places you stay alone. Alone with the other shadows of the night.

Walk along little bard

Walk along your path minstrel,
These halls are not for yours,
These be barred to them of heart,
Love crosses not these shores.

It is a hall of the deaf, O blessed bard!
Sing not for none can hear.
Yon lore is poison for ears
That have never been pure,

Of ornaments is joy shorn,
In ornaments is love born.
The day of newborn long gone,
All that innocence long undone.

Was a day when the nightingale sang,
Those days are them we mourn,
For if a heart know not love,
Never will it be despair shown.

Till the tithe is collected

There ain't a thing true about me,
For I have been insane you see.
I have tried the other guy shoes,
That shoe was never meant for me.
Quiet can a day go and am true,
Laugh a bit till emotions burn blue.

There ain't a thing true about me,
For I have been deaf you see,
I have stolen the songs of others,
And sung lays not for me.
Quiet can a day go and am true
For there is a path for you.

There ain't a thing true about me,
For I have been blind you see,
I have trod on else's path,
Those ends were never for me
Quiet can a day go and am true,
Smile a bit till the hells are due.

Silence of love

A silence of work
Where the grunts are all that be.
A silence of quiet,
Where the smiles of the sad lie.
A silence of stone
To take all the hurt in.
A silence of water
And in flow of life none be.
A silence of the stoic
Taller will the willows be.
A silence of work
To forget all that is.
A silence of words
For when truth may hurt.
A silence of pain
For then blame is gone.
A silence of love
To lease loved ones a life.

The needs of a story

We could walk down a lane,
And care not where it goes.
But the need of a story
Is to be told.
Be it in solitude,
Be it in love,
A path may be lonely
The end may be sore.
Some ways be of love,
Some ends feats of lore.
For them that walk,
The ends are unknown
But in paths we take
Is beauty engraved in stone.

REstrained

Let there be a soft bed,
Where I can stare at the sky,
And forgo all who judge,
And fool all, who look in the eye.
Them that I care are strangers,
And strangers do still show care,
This be no place for a heart,
No place for thoughts laid bare.
Let there be a closed room,
Where none can meet my stare,
None to come, none to go,
None to lie about care.
Let my thoughts be a monologue,
And days diminish into nothing,
For stars are a haunt,
The dark is more soothing.
In desires awake and gone,
Of words spoken and feigned,
Truth is this heart stands alone,
Of labours lost and gained.
Let the paths be as dark,
For the darkness I am used,
Let none shine a light no more,
For I cannot stand another ruse.
An excuse has been always,
To think that there was better,
For once let it lie,
Let the silence be my fetter.

Take me

Take me to my sunset,
Orange hues beautiful.
To those sunlit isles,
Where I be alone with me.

Take me to my nemesis,
A smile there always is,
To an end life lies,
Where I be content with me.

Take me to my gods,
They can never talk,
To those days lost,
Where I have love with me.

Take me to my love,
Where I can never be,
To a destiny born,
Where I am alone with me.

Old man willow 1

Even old willows have learnt to smile,
A first will always come.
Even old gnarled ones forego pain,
For end will always come.

Old willow heard a story,
And he thought of a smile,
In another's dream
He lived for a while.

Old willow down the lane,
Learnt he was in another's story,
Quietly he retraced his steps,
And he brought back his quarry.

Old man willow sat alone then,
The stream still went by,
Old man willow made a sound,
And jumped for he heard the ground.

Old man willow had none around,
But an acorn on the ground.
By little the acorn grew,
And old man heard its sound.

Old man willow was never free,
Old man willow had none around,
But for an acorn that stole his heart,
And he listens to the ground.

Old man willow knows not this tale,
Old man has seen many a gale,
But old man has but an acorn,
Old man willow has found his grail.

A trick too short

Inevitability is the price of mortality,
For our sense of time be short.
What is pegged at a never to be,
Might just be a trick too short.
This life is mine and my dreams
Are mine to make and live.
These ways are mine and you
Are mine to let you believe!
Go as far as you could,
The distance is just a trick,
For when you feel of space,
There will be none.
Tricks abound in our life,
For what we are made is one.
Never  in solitude
Will the trickster win of us,
For though you may not see,
I will always stand behind you.
A lot of world to see,
A lot to meet,
And though you will see not me,
I will always be around.

And

And is a word,
Of limitless possibilities,
For there be many ways
And a lot to add.
Today I stop at and,
For I cannot see into the fore,
Into a tomorrow that scares.
Some part stays as is wont,
A part forays to the front.
A part that asks me some,
Then again pulls me within,
Nothing more can be said,
And be all is left unseen.
Let what is left be silence
For some things remain so,
What truth may not be said,
And I will let it be so.

Allegory

When a story be told,
Of them it be born
Will never be bold.
The feelings be buried,
In nuances deep within,
And allegory be born,
For love is torn within.
For them that but see,
Is a wonder born free,
To talk with glee.

Lullaby

Croon me a lullaby,
Hold me tight.
Help me sleep,
Dream nightmares no more.
Long be a night,
Longer yet in repose,
Sadder be my Nightingale,
Ennui in this prose.
Sing me a lullaby,
Though your voice be hoarse,
Harsher are times for you,
But you need sing me my prose.

Shadows of a night

Shadows have a dance of their own.
As lights come and lights go,
Longer this road and a time be slow,
They dance ahead once,
The sing and bow,
Left behind as the lights forego.
Stand by me and wrap me close,
Like a shadowy night wrapped in prose.