DESTINY

The air fans the water, ripping its liquidy surface,

Waves of simplicity rush across it in pursuit,

The small bank proves to be the dead end,

The disturbances gradually die, without a lowly bend.

Rain drops puncture the grooved skin.

Each drop penetrating it with ease,

They join the small pool of, muddy water,

The rain, this union creates a lot of chatter.

Slowly the rain stops, bringing a wind of coolness,

Like a deep, dark dream of unending desire --à

Two bubbles rise up, each in insuppressible love for the other,

The two, run about un playful chase, without a bother.

Know they not that their bliss is short lived,

The bombarding drops may tear apart their mortal shells,

Death is not invincible, but the pain is endurable rather,

They finally burst at the bank, the one following the other.

Love knows no bounds, no pain, no leash,

Life is meaningless without the beloved,

Existence is certain, but life ends when the beloved is no more,

Death is a welcome change, rather than thoughts that are sore.

TWO LEAVES

Far across the grassy meadows, into the horizon,

A gravel drive runs like an incision,

The clunk of my boots melts into the air,

The sunshine fires up everything, gloom is neigh rare.

A soft breeze brushes past my tires body,

I take refuge under a tree, with thoughts seedy,

The breeze makes the branches sway, leaves talk,

I feel drowsy, amid this quiet murmur, with a thought-stock.

Gently, with care one rubs the back of other,

Consoling her with the love and warmth of a mother,

Their story is unknown to me, a stranger,

I look at them with reverence, and say ‘Roger!’.

Their talk resembles the two busybody lovers,

Whispers of immortal attachment slips past their cozy murmur,

Promises are of unending and immovable support,

Yet they go about their duty without a blundering report.

I wish I could stay here for eternity,

Till I get rooted or be at the verge of insanity,

I have to move on, leaving the lovers behind me,

I look back at the tree for one last time, for the chat which I can’t ever unwind.

DON’T GO:-(

He looks at her, his eyes expectant,

She looks at him, hers defiant,

He has no joy, no bliss, now that she is going,

She has no regret, her love was always swaying.

Sometimes, our hearts always play tricks,

We become fools, misunderstand as Cupid’s pricks,

It was an attraction after all,

The revelation was heart-breaking, though small.

His fingers are numb, eyes are vacant,

Does he understand his attachment was rampant???

He wants her to stay, but she can’t,

Coz she goes to someone else to satisfy her want.

Never again will he live like the one he was, time wasn’t spare,

Broken once, his heart may take long to repair,

He has loads of time now to think over it,

To figure out what went wrong, was he really a git?

Love! He won’t get it again, he thinks,

But no one knows, this above line stinks,

Someday, somewhere he will find someone,

He will live in despair, till she heals her man.

A WALK DOWN THE MEMORY LANE

A walk down the memory lane,

A path into the depths of history,

Bending and turning but running continous,

A lone plight into the past, some being a mystery.

The more one digs deep into it,

Things previously unseen, seem to unfold,

The past holds things that can shock,

Even the strongest of hearts, behold!

Like an empty tank, empty water- pipes,

Drops of water drop down, one by one,

Scarcity makes the demand more intense,

Flood is what the want, not an empty can.

Leaves of memories swirl past my eyes,

Each bearing the mark of some things that are etched,

I dream of wandering there once again,

To relive those moments of gold, like drinking the finest wine.

That feel of the winter sun on my skin,

The smell of the much-beloved empty classroom,

That lengthy corridor, where images flash by,

Hiding in the closet that contains the brooms.

The hooter that signals the end of the day,

That sound indicating the start of the play,

The much awaited house-matches,

The much liked field of reddish brown clay!

The wait at the bus-stop, the eagerness to reach school,

The fun of meeting friends once again,

The joy and freshness of the first period,

As the day went on, the tiredness that was without pain.

The daily rumblings of the guys,

The chit-chat of the girls, mix to form a noise junction,

The deafening shout of the teacher,

The excitement of the annual function.

How do you forget the life you had then?

How will you  bear to get separated from them?

The golden time is gone-

Time runneth but the memories, it can never stem!