A Birthday.

Beaten and battered.

Passed through fire.

The goodness of Life

Sandwiched between.

Holding aloft

The  promise of

A bright tomorrow.

What is a Birthday ….

But a piece of cake ?

The Knock

कल दिल के धड़कन ने दस्तक दी I

तुम्हारे बदन की सोंधी खुशबू 

हँसीके एक झोंके पर सवार,  

मन के झरोखे में से आकर, 

कुछ सोयी यादें जगा गयी I

कल दिल के धड़कन ने दस्तक दी I

वर्ना जबसे सपने भी 

इन फूलों के रंग लिये फरार हुए, 

इस वीरान खंडहर में 

आसकी बूँद की टपक भी 

कहीं गूंजती नहीं I

My Muse

On the cool monsoon breeze

You drifted in to caress my cheek.

Then gently floating down to rest

By my unaware palm. While I

Too busy and very engrossed

Continued with an oblivious fervor.

So there you lay

Patient and indulgent.

 

Waiting for  Imagination to awaken

And take us on that flight of fancy.

A thought in the passing

A thought fluttered past.

Riding the gentle breeze

That drifted down Memory Lane.

Brown with age

 Its well thumbed edges curled and torn.

Its fragile veins still showing the beauty

Of Love that once flowed through it.

There was new life at the crossroads

Where ambitions and desires went their separate ways.

A decision taken .

Feet that once walked together

Now danced to different drummers .

A thought fluttered past.

Away on the gentle breeze

That drifted to the end of Memory Lane.

Tears....

Gathering her Hopes , her dreams of Tomorrow
She wrapped them in his legacy of Sorrow.
And then in the still of the night
With hurried steps , she took flight.
Not a trace of her did they find
Except for the sparkle of tears left behind.

TRAGEDY

We stopped at Lockerbie on our drive from Manchester to Edinburgh . Here , we visited "The Garden of Remembrance"  at the local cemetery , built to commemorate the victims of the Pan Am disaster of 21st December 1988.

The picture below is of an angel on a tombstone erected many years , in fact decades, before the disaster . But it felt as if the angel was still in prayer for those who died in the crash .

We spent a quiet few moments in remembrance while a row of cherry blossoms carpeted  the grounds with their petals.

TRAGEDY

An angel stood
Fearful and petrified.
As bits of shattered dreams then gently
Drifted aimlessly, on wings that had broken presently.

An angel stood
Sorrowful and helpless.
As icy December winds could not put out the flames
That roared alive as misguided men ..played their merciless games.

An angel stood
Quiet and sad.
As charred ashes ....returned to Earth
Bringing to an abrupt end ..a journey begun at birth.


An angel stood
Silent and in prayer .
For unlucky souls ..that Peace they find
And Strength ... for those they had left behind.

An angel stood
Watchful and tireless.
As the cherry blossoms ...for decades and years
Profuse in a delicate pink ..wept copious and silent tears.

Pipe Dreams .... A Sedoka

Rusty and discarded they lie
Where once they glistened with Ambitious Hope
Bound by gossamer webs of the Past.
Shells that no longer hold
The gushing force of raison d’être
Now forgotten and old ..someone's pipe dreams.

RAVAGED

She

bloomed sure and eager

sunkissed and confident, brimming with

tender lofty dreams of Tomorrow .

He

watched dark and lecherous

arrogant and conceited , unmindful of her

tender lofty dreams of Tomorrow .

She

stood ravaged and devastated

riddled and torn , rot curling edges of her

tender lofty dreams of Tomorrow .

He

forgot and moved on

Oblivious and uncaring , as withered petals of her

tender lofty dreams of Tomorrow .

The Path

Checkered experiences
Build a path towards tomorrow.
Gentle shadows of memories
Create a respite from the scorching harshness.
Streaks of Joy bring in
Brightness to show us the way ahead
Lumbering footsteps
Change pace to a quick step.
A renewed desire surges
Bringing us even closer .
The blurred horizon at the yonder
Seems a little more defined .
Then the path takes another turn
And Life just goes on right ahead …

Passion

The door
Stood slightly ajar.
In an attempt to shield from prying eyes.

The chiffon
Peeked from round the corner.
Shyly blushing a deeper pink.

The trouser
Had followed boldly,
And now lay in a crumpled heap.

The entwined fingers
Snuggled deep into the
Gently heaving navel.

The lips rested
On the back of the nape.
Rhythmic breath whistling of dreams.

The voile curtains
Swayed ecstatic in the breeze
Billowing in the wafting emotions.

The errant sunbeam crept in
Surreptitiously to deepen
The flush on the glowing, moist skin.

The night of the storm had passed.

THE JOURNEY.

Frail, tired, withered and old .....

Resting on a limb

He reached out

For a moment to hold

A vague memory of

Youthful glory

Still lingering in

The faded wrinkles.

Then letting go

With quiet resignation

He continued with gravity

Till he was one

With

From whence he had sprung.

Colored Pains

The warmth of the setting sun
Slipped in through the glass
Of the doorway of the past .
To rock his chair a little gently
Setting in motion his dalliance
With the colorful shadows of Memories.


Green.
The firmness of grapes
Ripening a little
Juicy but tart.
Her favorite fruit.


Yellow.
A burst of Summer
Tinting the gossamer wings
Of flitting butterflies.
The glow on her joyous face.


Blue .
A meandering river
Reflecting the clear skies
With pleats of clouds.
The six yards of her sari.


White.
Brilliant and lethal.
Dazzling beams of
An errant headlight.
Her pallid face drained with fear.

Red.
A traditional dot.
Marking her love
For him eternally.
Washed away by the growing trickle. ...............


The rhythm of the chair
Came to a standstill
As the colors seeped out
From under the doorway
Along with the setting sun.