I wrote her name upon the sand .........

I Wrote her name upon the sand

and came a wave and washed it away

And then i wrote it with another hand

ashore a wave a took it away ...

The remains of the past left in the strands

this time it brought with it her smell
her name fragrated the sea ,my world

i learned then i couldn't breathe air

if it didn't contain her trace

I remembered last time we were here

the waves seemed to acknowledge her

beauty .. her ever growing grace

i was searching for her at bay

but she ...

she was immersed in my heart case,

I took a plunge in myself to find,

but she was scattered and imbibed,

on the tombstone of my cremated disgrace

A candle light on our love's grave,

she is immortal and I die of her name,

A crude accusition I carry of bringing,

obsolescing her embrace

Feelings and emotions better left upon the shore .....

paths and roads on the way ...

roads i travelled
high and low
ways into which
paths
submerge and flow
valleys,rivers
mending all blows
untouched terrains
asking to
be visited
ridges and cliffs
shattering
realities and myths
journeys
long and hard
journeys
far and below
foraying into
places
never knowing
i could
ever go
uuf's and aah's
tremor's and falls
all
encapsulated
by the prized
enchanting waterfall
discovering myself
an entity
so infinitesimly small
in this valley
holding
surprises for one and all

Hear ......what isn't said

Hear ......what isn't said
for what is said
makes no sense at all ...

Hear what is meant to be said
just close your eyes
And open your heart

I don't want to speak
for I have so much to say
I don't wanna listen to you
for it never goes away

Listen to the silence ...
(Can you hear in it my voice ..?)
For it may speak for me

I always had something to say
something ..
that
I could
never summon up & say
but
Since now the tides changed
and no more
washes your name away

I couldn't either
but it just embarked itself on my heart

Now my time's up & ... out
I haven't lost my faith or courage
but with you they went away

A thousand words i can take to say
what i couldn't .
all the while it was to be said

Now that I'm a bundle of hay
dry, battered , useless...discarded away

Hear ... behind the words
in the silence of the sulken night
some bonds ... will always remain
maybe next time round .. I'll have my say !




This poem is dedicated to anyone
and everyone who has loved but could not say ...

A Poem ...

Thoughts too vibrate . . .
Vibrate and the molecules run far and wide.

Some one must be there,
Somewhere to catch my thoughts.
The thoughts fly . . .
As they have colorful wings of a butterfly
Fly far and wide but never before . . .
leaving a mark in the space.

The empty spaces are not really vacant
All the empty spaces are filled with thoughts..

Thoughts that you think today . . .
Are also the ones that were thought of y'day

Next time you decide to walk beside me
Through the space and time
Think that she is not I but is a thought.
Think that you are traveling through thoughts.

Thoughts of our future discussed in sound,
in whispers Thoughts enriched with words and metaphors
Thoughts woven in the strings of phrases and images
Thoughts moving through the evening verses.

A poem . . if you see is my say ...
A drop in the ocean of which I'm at bay
come beyond these thoughts and dreams ...

When there happen a hundred little things,
Like the season's first flower by the springs,

Or the falling leaves in the Autumn time,
A sweet pleasing song, a haunting rime,

Will someone notice these mysteries?
And when clouds cover each twinkling star
And thunder is heard from lands afar . . .

Stained . . .

In the heat of her body
she scribbles his initials and her heart
into the lines of her palm.

Her sweat thickens now with blood
Into that bittersweet potion
of love and death;
leaving in the air . . a scent of the same.

And
when she looks back today,
she rubs her palm again and again
but the stain of his name
just won't peel off.

Thoughts On Transience
The silent woods around are still,
And quiet blows the autumn breeze.
Now golden flowers on the hill
And yellow leaves on aging trees,
Shine bright against the azure sky,
As snowy clouds come floating by.

Far below on the green valley's face
Lie steps of corn and sugarcane sweet,
I watch content, in mellow pace,
And feel the grass under my feet.
But already grows the sleeping grass,
And see, oh see the daylight pass.

She sits alone and silently awaits
For sound of footsteps on my way,
Creaking of that swinging gate,
And voices friendly,
soft and gay.
But evening breaks on the plain,

This day that goes won't come again . . .

Color Me .... Into You ....!!!

In just blacks and whites...
Our true colors doesnt come out
In just black & white
Me & my shadow dont unite...

In just Black & White
You can't see

How many facets there are to life ?

In the Black ,thats pitch dark ...
Is it the Black night ?

Or is the corner too grave.....?

In this white , I lose my sight
White's All around ,with a black spot
My transitions of life are ... Black or White
And subtle shades , now of grey...

Is this whole world colorblind...?

So color me Red. . .
Just color me Blue . . .
Color me A shade . . .
That makes me a part of you ...!

Color me Green
Color me Yellow
Color me a color that like you , Is so mellow ...

Color me Brown
Color me Black
Color me in the wisps of those strands...
Color me this way ...
A Life can only follow . . .

Color me Orange ...
Color me Pink..
Color me a fragrance
Thats , blooming like the Spring ( that you presence brings...)

Color me now . . . Before you leave ...
Color me like An angellic ..untouched wing ..

Color me like a dew on a mountain leaf ...
Come color me a love thats no shades can descibe ...


Color me in your melody
Let me listen to your song
Just Color me a color
That lasts all life long....

Color me in your kindness..In the love benign...
( A love thats yours and mine )

Shower upon me all tears ...
sing that song that echos the inane
Color me with your hands . . .

Traces of contortion . . . no longer pervade

Lend me all the dark of night
Paint this bond with wide eyed dreams...

Color me this way ,your essence comes along..
A shade thats just so strong . . .

No darkness or sunlight ...
Ephemeral like the shining horizon
Venerable at the convulsion ...


Make your colors my soul...
Make me feel your own...
Color love . .not sympathy ..

Let the unspoken words console . .
Pedigree cant last long ..
Nor does this life . .


Come unto me ... End this reprise...

Color my life . . . Lets Color 'ours' this way
The day when the call comes . . .
Synonymously we're taken away . . .

Anand - Ode to Joy

'' Babu Moshai, life and death are games we play. Whatever happens here, you must leave me and face life as I would have.''

Every once in a while we transcend into our mortal demeanor and get intertwined into cobwebs that we are unable to free ourselves of ...that is when we look ... outside of us ... look around and notice if we are the ones who are acting ordinary or if people are acting funny...
When our desires outplay our wants and we start thronging on valuables to provide us happiness ..then ..these...these benefits make us venerable.
The life that we are bestowed with is really funny and unpredictable ... and just when we think we have decoded the mysteries ... is when we really get befuddled by it all the more.Since the advent of technology we've been making steadfast progress each day ..we've been venturing into unforeseen terrains and coming out with means to make our lives more simpler and more easy and simply put ---- to be happy..satiated ..radiated; despite the complexities that all of it present we somehow believe we're traversing towards happiness,migrating from the shallow mindsets we vouch for technology doing wonders for something that resides within us...a really scary thought...
Deconstructing all our endeavors we undertake. . .we'd realise . .its all towards ..that one fulfillment. . towards quenching that ignominious desire of freedom from suffering. We all want to succeed but not everyone is ready for the grind that makes us ready for that sort of appreciation...
Most of the times ..i wake up thinking that this day of mine should be perfect ...and i try and harness my actions in such a way they complement my mindset . . . sometimes it works out . . .sometimes it doesn't. So what does that mean ..?
It means nothing more than the fact that life is an everyday struggle ..and in order for us to lead we must not only give our best ...but keep bettering our best from time to time....as someone at the top of his game would say ..but then again , is doing all of this easy ? what happens if i suddenly meet failure ..well when we strive for victory than defeat should be out of question ...but does it happen that way...No...!!! Just doesn't happen that way ...so what does that leave us with ..it leaves with an opportunity .. a chance may have gone by but what of the one that's still in the offing ..whats done is done. . .whats lost is probably gone but how would you want to sustain that defeat with you....

But it leaves a thought that is big and strong,
With a wish that is kind and true.

Happiness . . Joy is often correlated with the presence of some favorable occasion or event ... something that comes rarely and lasts momentarily. But the question arises is that something that is basis of all or most of our actions . . Why would we want to do that..?
Why would we want to be happy in parts ..or on occasions ...?
Why would we do that for something that's is exclusive to our species..?

An answer could be that different things make different people happy .. and not everyone can be happy then at the very same time because some of those wishes might just be contradiction of each others . . .whatever may be the reason the fact that I'm trying to iterate is that we are consciously or sub-consciously finding ourselves dependent on things and object to fetch us that much needed smile. . . And assuming for a moment what they give is happiness indeed, we'd find more than it being temporary or fickle . . . its an instant satiation of desire that stems from the wants and slowly moves towards becoming a need and finally a happiness bringing object . . .This is where more often than not we go wrong . . i know that not always life gives us an apparent reason to be happy but then the same goes for trials and moments of agony as well . . . students study for a year and get evaluated once or twice in a year . . . employees perform throughout the year . . . and all that yrs. of efforts accumulates to a progression. Now i don't intend to debate over the system or anything but just say that fact that the balance is always there . . we just fail to acknowledge its presence.

A Positive effect study shows that the following things . . help us most in becoming happier.

Activities Positive effect

	Intimate relations	5.10
	Socializing	4.59
	Relaxing	4.42
	Pray/Worship/Meditate	4.35
	Eating	4.34
	Exercising	4.31
	Watching TV	4.19
	Shopping	3.95
	Preparing food	3.93
	On the phone	3.92
	Philosophers observe that short-term gratification, while briefly generating happiness, often requires a trade-off with negative repercussions in the long run. Examples of this could be said to include developing technology and equipment that makes life easier but over time ends up harming the environment, causing illness or wasting financial or other resources. Various branches of philosophy, as well as some religious movements, suggest that "true" happiness only exists if it has no long-term detrimental effects Everything said and done we acknowledge it less and pain and misery more because perhaps most of us are expecting that from our own lives and others .. maybe circumstances have bended reality to such an extent that it appears as a falsification or a gray scale . Happiness resides in the heart yet it becomes apparent in our gestures and actions and affects them so much so that it has a direct correlation with its fulfillment. A happy person may or may not be a contented one ... a person can be happy though on most occasions with what he holds because the visions that elude him often set in pressure to outperform which again in few cases can act as a driving force which implicitly leads to Happiness ... People believe we should be happy for others around us .. who care , for our family , friends , because its God's saying .. and for other such reasons but until the time we understand for ourselves as to why should we choose happiness we wouldn't really be able to achieve it for good . Lets face it , things .. situations don't really change just because we are happy but yes inevitably we change when we realise ' Come What May ' I'm going to face it head on and with that sheer belief we are able to break on through to the other side ... I remember being told very early in my childhood that ' We must stop assuming that a thing which has never been done before probably cannot be done at all . . . ' .. its just there .. waiting for you to come and conquer it . Whisper words that carry power In the misty midnight hour Speak the things you wish to change Will your words to rearrange Raise your will let your power flow Whisper softly....... then let go Let me end by saying that we all have it within it us . . . its right there lurking behind every gesture of pain and tear . . . As long as we can think it we can do it . . . and a smile , it only helps in looking at the light side of life , the overshadowed side , that as good a shield from pressure as any other intoxicant . . . Spread the Smile . . . people don't notice but its the world's most reciprocated emotion . . . and Beware : Its Infectious ... :)

The open window . . .

Familiar strains of music . . .
Float across the room,
A drift of cold breeze
scatters the papers,
disrupting them

From their stacked existences
Neatly arranged,
Porcelain presences look back through their
beaded eyes,
Happily trapped in their glass boxes;

Everything seems to be arranged in an inert order;
That open window,
At the corner, speaks to me
It beckons me to an unknown land.....


There, across the window,
one mouthful of sky now seems
over laden with dark clouds-
The golden chariot plays hide and seek through them;
Patterns change, yet the window stands open,

The dust laden sills, dingy, greenish walls,
agonize every
moment of my wait;


A broken chiaroscuro
of memories closed in that room,
Time mingling past and present
into an unknown mass of
incoherence -

That open window still beckons;
And I wait...

My Time's up ...my wait is over
though these dreams still come
when i'm dreary eyed...

My ensemble .. my identity is all but an alibi...
Hiding away from happiness ..
I'm waiting near the window....for the clouds to approve of my pain
I'm waiting to walk...to cleanse myself in the rain...

The window shows me the world outside....
All those faces ... with different names
All connected one way or another
To themselves though ... they stranger ..remain
I see two roads that that lead to my house...
and many that i discover each day...

The Open Window That I Look From ..Shows me that nothing forever remains. . .

S.H.A.D.O.W.D.R.A.G.O.N




I have stumbled through such blinding pain,
Convinced I was alone,
Not knowing I had an Angel
I could call my very own.

Through the toughest times I've had to face
The trials thrown my way,
I've somehow found my inner strength
To face another day.

Words may push me down abit,
But they will never chain my soul,
If I keep on facing forward
And allow my heart to take control.

I question why I struggle,
And wonder if He hears my call:
"Don't worry, my dear child,
I'll be here to catch your fall"

Poetry (from Ancient Greek: ποιέω/ποιῶ (poiéo/poió) = I create / I make / I do / I cause) is traditionally a written art form in which human language is used for its aesthetic qualities in
addition to, or instead of, its notional and semantic content. In preliterate societies, these forms of poetry were composed for, and sometimes during,performance.
There was a certain degree of fluidity to the exact wording of poems. The
introduction of writing fixed the content of a poem to the version that happened to be
written down and survive.It consists largely of oral or literary works in which language is used in a manner that is felt by its user and audience to differ from ordinary prose.....Phew....that is poetry technically defined for you...
Poetry's use of nuance and symbolism can make it difficult to interpret a poem or can leave a poem open to multiple interpretations . . . not that it makes any difference...poetry is all about expression ...But simply speaking poetry...is all about creative expression ....expression that's as unique as your own identity ...

I am . . .

I'm here today...I'm with you....
Tomorrow my entity is slated for disarray...
I'm floating with a vision that resonates in your heart
I'm the Gift of Yesterday...
I'm the tear that never comes out...
I'm hidden.. within...forgotten perhaps..lost my way

I'm traveling deep within...
I'm guided .. by the darkness inside
I'm the muse of the creator...
I'm captive of my dreams...
I flutter . . . where you set free your dreams

I'm also the one ... who makes you smile...
I maybe your weakness ... but I possess some guile...
I'm holding on to the dreams ... we envisioned
I'm not ensuring success but hope...
I' m traversing ... as I have been now for so long ..

Motion and progress ... much the same for me ... they mean...


I watch from the skies above ... I guard from the care within...
I'm carefully lending .. guiding light .
I'm holding you until caressed by morning light....
I'm inside.. I'm around .. I'm like a traveler ...
with destination as a native ground.....


I am . . . the reassurance that you hold...
I am . . . said but never told
I am as visible as the morning dew. . .


I am not known .. predicted or foreseen
Yet I'm not a virtue inane . .
I am a reason not a condition . .
I am a surface and not a shooting star ; you are my periphery and I am the arc ..

I am here since long before ..
I am here .. for you . . . . today tomorrow and forever more . . .


'I am' ... is one of the very first poems I penned and for this reason & many more its very special to me.