At violent peace....

(1)
The reality seems choked,
full to the brim -
trying to spill out of the beams -
already sprawling with the trash,

the litter,
the abominable refuse.
Each time it tries to ooze out,
the lid is shut -
tight and final,

as if incumbent to stifle.

Each passing day

submits layers of peels.

In the already stuffed bins.

Meanwhile,
reality gasps -
for a whiff of fresh breath in fresh air.
Reality struggles,
hard to survive -
living is out of question now.

Still reality continues
to live on hope -
of a passionately faded dream.

Sometimes even that hope deludes.
It scuttles away -
like birds who fly from their perch,
at the onset of dusk.

All the while i wonder -
Will reality ever be real?
Will it ever dare come out -
without being stuffed in again?
Till then shall i wait -
just wait?

With ironed hands and steeled eyes?


(2)


The hourglass stands empty -
drained and clean.

No speck of grain inhabits the vessel.
It stands empty -
carrying a void,

a disturbed ennui.

The hour glass grins-
right to my face,
laying bare its invisible teeth.
They are set in a void.

So the hourglass stands -
empty and void.
Unable to resound the echoes.
It stands -
absolutely empty.


(3)
The waves broke
with ferocious intensity

they crumbled -
on the hard, rocky surface.

The waves exploded.

The rock stands
as if untouched, unaware
of the sheer force
of the exploding, gnawing, clawing waves.
Its solid body
against the changing waves.

The rock stands -
heroic and grounded.

That body has ripples
This body definitions
That body spread and ejected
This body accepted then rejected
The form and the action coalesced -
all at the same time.

The waves sought identification.
The rocks seek none.
The waves broke on the rocks
and identified themselves.

The rock stands
self-contained,

self-referential,
self identified.

lost, detached, found......

(1)
It seems as if something slipped
just now.
Just as sand slips slowly but swiftly -
down the crevice, in the hourglass.
It seemed as if something detached
just as a leech drops dead from the trees.
It seemed as if something melted
just as a piece of mud melts into a watery puddle.

It just got lost
just as you lose something
without having found it - ever.
I wonder beyond words
what "it" was that i lost.


(2)
I do not want myself to be carved
i want to carve.
Myself, my dreams, my life -
in the moonlit desert,

on the deserted path
moving alongside some sand dunes,
passing the high mounds lying bare.
I want to make indentations
scratch crevices -
So that i grin among those high mounds
And become a diminished marker of their heights.


(3)
She tried to breathe.
Determined to inhale deep

she took dragged in
a whiff of smelly air -
full of chokingly black smoke
that have puffed up in her lungs since.

She drank -
a mouthful of putrid water,
full of crawling germs
that wriggle in her body now.

She saw -
a sight full of nudity,
absolute debasement and depravity
that have haunted her for years now.

The question is-
why does she breathe, drink, see
and worst of all -
dare to dream?


Perhaps because
she has yet not learnt to exist.

Perhaps because

even today

she desires to be able to choose.

To live.


(4)
The space stretched beyond her -
an extension of herself.
The space was quiet -

serenely so,
amidst the vulgar cacophony
of the soundless existence

that had led her -

so far.

She stood -

charged and elated,
partaking the infiniteness it offered.

The space motionless and still,
became noisy within her - unpronounced.

She turned pale and restless.

(5)
A thousand desires across the night
pierced the dark silences,
screeching loud and in shrill voices.
A thousand longings hovered
around the spidery web of musty walls
entangled inescapably within its fine maze.
A thousand wants caressed

softly the turgid trunks of the swollen trees.
A thousand wishes across time, place
fancied a small claim over the vulgar vastness.

These desires are dangerous -
furiosly seething in anticipation,
sensuously nursing their wounded visages,
seductively enticing intensities of reality.

In their soft illusions,
their harmless innocence,
their restfull apparitions
These desires embrace
dynamitic explosiveness.

These desires are violent silences.

Lust, longing, love and life
can all kiss these desires -
the thousand desires of incomprehensibility.
But none can realise even faintly
the momentary shadows of these desires.

These desires are many -
life just one.

An unbridgeable gap
yawning and grinning widely across the night.


(6)
I chewed the bread
that smelt sweet as honey.

I lost myself in the mirth.

I went unconscious on the lonely path.

I was happy at seeing the vastness ahead
merging slowly in the depth of the horizon
I lost myself in the calm quiet
as if notes sunk in music.

The night set in.
Black with stars, calm with crickety chatter.
I slept to wake up
freshened by the joyous breath of morn
(or was it still night?)

The taste of the honey-dewed bread,
leisurely lingering in my mouth -

suddenly sour,
freshly bitter.
Soothingly painful.
The softened hardness of the bite
scraping at my tongue, palate, throat.

I bleed.

I am happy -
in a sad way.