Memories

Wax wriggles down,
Melting some time.
Far off, a train chugs,
Into the mountains.
Rupturing bark,erodes
itself. The storm withers,
A howl sets in.
Dull echoes of last
Goodbyes. Faint memories
of lost struggles.

Silver lines, fairy tales,
A flute plays far away.
Holy winds, misty dales,
Whitey doves fly and play.
Streaks of Prussian skies,
Paint the window panes.
Memories of coffee brew,and
Laughter down the lanes.
An epoch of happy feats,
Sound of elated heart beats.

Moments flee day by day,
Nothing to trap,
Nothing to nail.
Revive the days,
Put on a smile,
and just move on,
Living the day.

Kalam: A Tribute

Wafers of smile span across,
a face of easy harmony.
Gentle tones of advocacy,emerge
from roots of true modesty.
Embracing the soul of optimism,
you marched the road to scholarship.
You led a path of revelation,
lighting the minds of humanity.
We found an exuberant educator,
to tell us mind is over matter.
We earned a cordial commander,
who unveiled natural integrity.
Of unblemished grit and diplomacy,
you were an art of simplicity.
A personage of thousand dimensions,
and a phenomenon in our history.
The ethereal spring withered today,
but the fragrance will stay forever.

May your soul rest in peace.

A Nostalgic Fresco

On a Summer midday,I perch in a room,
Devoid of disciples yet full of vim.
Peeling paints reveal the depth of moil.
And,echoes of practice grease the walls.
Filling the envelope of air inside,
Dwindled tantrums dot the uptight decorum.
Musty smell leak from timeworn desks.
Mazes of cobweb creep to the alpine roof.
Long windows open to a flaring mud field.
Crumbs of chalk cuddle the podium beneath,
And, smudge the wash of a worn black board.
Fading words remind of days that blend-
Into the vanishing point.
A twisted smile, an array of gazes,
A flush of thoughts and a deep breath,
All together,paint a nostalgic Fresco.

The Comfort Quietus

Bleached by loquacious riffraff,
And scathed by pompous conflux,
I quest behind the vanished sense,
In the sepulchre of holy spirits.
The spirits of quietus and silence,
Of mild secrecy in life before birth,
Of dark enigmatic crux in afterlife,
Bent in the hungry tidal warfare,
Of belching sorrows and crummy ease.
Entwined in the web of civilisation,
Of cry,scandal,bruises and misery.
Ripping the threads of entanglement,
I long cannily for a haven to abide.
Cocooned beneath the clamoured arena,
Of voices,wishes, whims and vices.
I live with a penchant for placidity.
Forever and forever.

Warm Song of Summer Rain

Dry and parched wide city alleys,
Weep under the erring swelter.
Some mirage lakes troll at best,
Teasing the fated summer thirst.
Stunned by the fondling breezes,
Kisses of drizzle daze the torrid.
Petting the gush of dusky pillows,
High tears rush.Of lost playmates.
A sway brushes the crust of Earth,
Cleansing the dust,dirt and pores.
Sleets of shower vamp out in swift,
Shrouding the land with still mist.
Puffs of virgin sponges subtly pace,
Breaching glimpses of simmering sun.
Pigmented arches swell up in layers,
Improvising a fable of rich fantasy.
Ambience juggles the sentiments plain,
Greeting the Warm Song of Summer Rain.

He left without proffering Goodbye

Last day of exam for the academic year was over. She was hopping with joy of anticipated celebration of the summer break.She grabbed her bag with one hand while holding the pencils and pens on the other. Bidding a jaunty goodbye to her peers, she ran swiftly towards home to kickstart the liberty with a scrumptious lunch. Even the muggy weather that usually peeves her was not able to dwindle her spirits that day. Drenched in sweat and smeared with dust, she breezed into lush green avenue that housed her haven.

Never  had she been so panicky to step into her beautiful home after returning from school. But that day, things were afflictively different. The old steel rocking chair on the porch was empty and strangers with inelastic faces were ambling past her. The smell of burning incense, the fragrance wafting from  variety of flowers and  an eerie silence pricked  at her nerves. With a rummage of grievous thoughts, she peeped into the hall and all she could see - a dazzling white shroud which neatly covered an old gentleman.

The heavy bag slid down her arms on the floor. Keeping her eyes rigidly fixed on the stiff face, she wiped the sweat trickling down her temples and jaded cheeks.

Someone clutched at her shoulders from behind and whispered in an aching voice.

'Grandpa passed away this morning. Pray for him.'

Neck cramped with an ache, fingers turning cold and goosebumps raised on her tender skin. Slowly, she approached the gentleman lying calm on the bed and caressed his toes. They were colder than her fingers, stiffer than her muscles and lifeless than her spirits.

'Why didn't you tell me ? We have lots more to share and play. Wake up! grandpa! Wake up!' She hit him hard with tears streaming down her cheeks.

That man who had never let her feel dejected was gone, once for all, without even bidding her Goodbye.

An Ode to Light

On the International Year of Light: 2015.

The aura of enlightenment, the spirit of victory and the joy of beauty convene to celebrate the antecedent of all things positive. 

O Light, Thou shall be the Master!

From the cradle laid on wild heavens,
Acumen spread athwart the cosmos,
Crucifying murk, christening shadows,
The spartan dances to a jingle fast.

O Light, Thou shall be the Master!

Cajoling folks to race behind.
The silent alchemy of distant stars,
Fleeting sunsets,lanterns,lamps
And a multitude of imposing impressions.

O Light, Thou shall be the Master!

The superlative heuristic wisdom,
The vision of venturing the unknown,
The aristocrat of modern Science,
The morale of the populace.

O Light, Thou shall be the Master!