The Wedding

Tonight she made an early arrival

Into the sky of a barely today.

For celebrating up above is

The grand procession of 

Giving a dear daughter away.

The Sun,

her father

Made his court dance in

Resplendant robes of

Golds and ivory plumes,

Ebbing, and flowing, and  joyously moving 

Towards the lovely bride of a moon!

She was veiled by one of their own,


Was not in so much gloom, not in so much bliss.

She held her breath

Hard and high,

As she shroud

The face of her sister moon,

And in her bosom she felt 

The weight of the heart,

Of a nebula that was cursed to

Never explode,

When she was nothing but fathomed by darkness.

She once loved the man in his Night,

Dark, luminous and calamitous.

Every dark line in his iris

A playground for her million

Lovelorn games.

Undeclared kisses,

Destined to be wayward children

Of a wanton romance.

She wept and wrung her heart inside,

To bring a tear of redemption 

Into her eyes.

For the bride’s beauty tonight

Blushed the other woman’s

And every body’s sky

Into an eternal consent 

That never should be tried.

Veiled tonight though

By a doomed lover,

Will she someday 

Be swallowed by her man?




I drank tonight

A chalice full of old love,

Wine as dark as the nights

We wallowed in,

Words taking over kisses and caresses

Tender breaths taking over whispers,

Miles away, seas away

When the unspoken was only heard

By the signals in the universe,

And the love tried to seep through

Screens of white bright


I begged you

To never utter a word

That would end in an

Unfathomable depth of despair

For an eternity

And more.


And here we are

Years later, aeons ahead

Of our times and lives.

We shared yet another

Sigh of a wish,

And remembered Annabel Lee together.


My old friend, my very old friend


How would the earth spin?-

If we shared a poisoned kiss together

All night long!


Little Long Legs.



His little long legs

Kicked the leather

As strong as they once kicked

The flesh he lay in.



Perennial hugger.

Rubbing his eyes into the darkness

and suspended dream of thousand stars,

which someday will be the route

To knowing oblivion.

To escape.

From the thousand pounds of flesh

Of his own kind.

A Dance to Remember



I could tell you a thousand things

And yet feel a pregnant silence.

Singled and paralysed by

Acid down throat

Red blood, Red blood

The chalice screamed.

I know not why I am waiting here

You are not going to come

Nor will I.

The stories I have to tell

Go out through my ears and


In me we have met the end.

This house is one of lies

But on fire

Lets burn these mirages

Until we tire

No more nothings of the past

No more everything of today

Come, come

Dance with me

In a trance

To forget all that

Remained, remains and will remain.



The Restitution of Love





A flower in my own garden

Of living,

A bud

Shy to open up

To what could be called her


Nurturing for myself

From my withins

Roots and leaves

All within,


Am ravishing when in the fields.

Left alone, ungazed and untouched

Amidst all the other

Unknown glory.


You want to see me

Closer to you then,


stroke, touch and feel my scent

In your innards

And when,

i am in your hands

Satiating your senses,

Crushed in the harmony of

Your pulp

I become ‘old and dry and cold and wry’.


Once a God but now

A forgotten one,

I lie in the mud

Drenched and soaked

In tears from some heaven.




Maybe someday

Someone will know

What love is to be.


To let them bloom in their fields,

Their glory

Never to be held

But only to be


Just as the

Air we breathe.




Everyday I wait…




I sat in a corner

Waiting for you to return,

Every whiff of wind

Carrying your abandoned laughter,

Your dreamy haze, your green silk gaze.


I felt like a tree in January

Deserted and lifeless

Waiting for the sunshine in the cold,

To make me look timeless.

And there you came

And just like the winter sunshine,

You beamed at me

For a passing infinite moment

And then joined the other shadows

Of simple clouds,

Whilst I sat in the dark

Small and alone and pining

But strong.

For my sun to smile at me

From behind those large large clouds.





In abject silence, what to think of.


The quietness of a ticking clock?

The loneliness of a bird

Perched on an empty branch?

The ember in a dying restless soul

That wants to dance…

The ageing sun

That will someday sink

Into the sky

Blueink to black.


But today we shall smile

And sleep

As long as our earth goes round

And our time goes right.

The Third Ghost



My house is empty. It feels drunk in dark. Massive mischief of interplays. Between memories of what has been and not. And is going on. Somewhere a light shines. Oh it is the neighbours lights. Why are they in? And why do I feel out?

My space is here but I feel not. Not lost but not to belong. The floor is cold. Cold and shaky. Or are they just my feet with no ground beneath. I try soothing myself with a lullaby. The one I used to sing to a son I once had. A shadow lurks besides me. I shiver with no cloak to hide in. Is it my own or that of my ghost’s?

Tomorrow will be another day. Where normal happy people will try to call it a day.

Where will my ghost wander off to? In rest or not. It will still enter that home, that I once had. Into which I once let sunshine in and soaked flowers. Now, nobody knows I am hungry here, for what not.

And then I will look at everybody. They will all be happy without me. Well at least they are. Because the lights were not from the neighbours but that of celebration at mine. Only I thought I bought the light.



This bunch of green, to me is the most idealistic of living beings. The epitome of perfection. The symbol of what beauty should be made to be.

It chose to befriend a pile of gray, cracking, cold rocks,to live in symbiosis and harmony, to provide its own minimalistic yet profound happiness to the beholder’s eyes.

Isn’t that how humans are supposed to be? Realise the potential of a cracking soul, adopt it, nurture it and show the rest of the world what can come of the most downtrodden of men. Or women. Or a child. And when we tune on that nerve of compassion in us, we bring into being an ideal world. Quite a Utopic concept, but only if we thought about what is happening around us with a wider “opened eyes”, will we understand, that it is not easy for anyone. The king amongst us, would be an insomniac worrying about his fading charm, the swan amongst us could be an abandoned daughter and the child with the bouncy hair and cherub cheeks would probably be craving for its mother’s warmth.

My own soul feels gray and cracked. And as much as I dont want to look back, I realise that only if I embrace my past with kindness will I be able to smile tomorrow. And I am grateful for my family and friends for all the support showered upon me, but is everybody else as lucky? As often as depression threatens to kick in, I remind myself that it is always not about me and that I do have a warm hearth and bed to sleep on.

The people we meet are as cold as the weather outside in November. Sometimes colder. We all take refuge in knowing someone more through their social networking profiles, than looking into their eyes and read what their soul is screaming out. It requires courage and we have fooled ourselves into believing that being a coward is a display of bravery. Our laughs are as fake as our will not to cry.

The highest of living beings have forgotten the rules of living, and here is a bunch of plants that are usually weeded out, showing me, what it means like to live and hold life in any given spot of earth. If this is not a symbol of hope for a ruining soul, then what is?

The Dacoit




Silence prevailed like a veil of black silk upon the sky

Dark and soft, it nailed its claws and

Buried its fangs into the heart

Of gurgles, mirth

Gods and goblets.


Far too long back

Emeralds to rubies

Rubies to grass.

As the nemesis flames

Danced and ate upon

What was once




Lulling waves,

Like dying embers on


A wait too restless for

The paramour

He said he was.

An armed shadow

Climbed the forts,


Thousand men tall

Fewer men fat.

Dagger of hate,

Hidden in his

Cloak of plans.

Tonight he will plunge into

The treasure,

Of flesh ,

Wet flesh ,

Salt and sour,

Human and heart.

Red brine

To combine for

The victories once

Of his long lost land.


And there she waited

Naked bosom

Cascades of raven hair

To clothe alone

The womb that trusted

The rump of a

Thousand desires.

Blind to the dagger

Blind to the words

Blinder to the lust

Seething with ire

Of the man

From a long lost land.



Let’s ravish


Let’s dance.


Let’s try



Let’s cry.


Let’s drink


Let’s kill.



Let’s live.

For all that we had lost and

Thought we had won.


Across the mountains

Of shadows and lies,

Rivers slumbered by

Dreams and silent sighs.

A scream.

Froze the azure night


The moonlit lakes

Withered in their bellies.

When the steel

Cold as his love

Sharp as the man.

Impaled the ivory

Beneath her heart.