Such am I

Vitreous I seem, dazzling truth,
a veil of lucidity hiding the darkness within,
thoughts so vice, yet honeyed words.
Oh Lord, keep the veil intact,
shelter my innocent words.
Such am I, Oh great giver,
virtues and the vice.
Resentments I hold, weigh me down,
strange silence surrounds me,
By refraining the materialization,
thoughts never died, grudges never melted.
deep within, I stayed absorbed,
the great ‘Naad’ is still unheard.
Such am I, Oh great giver,
the inflamed statue.
Everywhere in the known world,
sometimes into the absurd,
empowered by riches my search continued,
found the doors closed, ahead I moved.
I wandered till my feet became a map.
Oh Lord, You still are the unknown.
Such am I, Oh great giver,
virtues and the vice,
Judge me.

Anhad Naad , Sanskrit origin, it means “primordial sound”.
Inspired by ‘Japji Sahib’  n ‘Eho Hamara Jeevna’.


I feel alive

I feel alive when death offers her hand, a dive into the void.
I feel alive while clenching my fist it sweats on the insides.
I feel alive when my truths find some concerned yet fearful lips.
I feel alive when a rifle butt stamps ‘traitor’ on my back.
I feel alive because no-one suppresses the dead.
I feel alive when I see my blood fights the grayness of soil.
I feel alive because one-day every tree will grow read leaves.

In the Midst of a battle ~ Kelsier

I saw weakness.
A feeble hero,
his fragile dreams.
With every blow,
he fell, tasted dirt,
befriended death. Continue reading “In the Midst of a battle ~ Kelsier”



I feel your presence
like sharks feel blood,
a drop in a pond.
Blood or lust.
wanna bite you down.
there more to it,
the madness,
once your are marked
there’s no escape. Continue reading “Sharks.”


Much before.

Much before we spoke,
trees talked with winds.
Dried leaves fell on roads,
stepped upon, they talk,
Was it always a monolog?
Much before the Clocks,
time wheeled the same,
it saw, felt, remembered,
and webbed an endless yarn.
Did time imagine reality?
Are we a fairy tale?
Continue reading “Much before.”


At times

So close
buried into my chest
yet so distant.
Waging a war,
against me,
for me.
There is no me,
not within me,
in you there is.
In me,
it’s all you.


Buried dreams

A desert it was,
where I buried my dreams,
some mine some borrowed,
a passerby told me,
it’s now a forest.


Pen, Paperweight and me.

‘I’ll create an ocean,
one out of my words.’
I told the paperweight
it quoth,’Then what,
Your people, illiterate,
They can’t sail,
Pages, inked or blank,
it’s all the same.’
. Continue reading “Pen, Paperweight and me.”


Morning dreams

like a morning dream,
when we met,
shared our silence,
reminding me,
Sunlight can’t be grasped,
feel it with open hands,
breath can’t be held forever,
Love isn’t plucking a flower,
planting them is.



Death, A forest.

Death isn’t final,
a sliver of you lives,
In the music of a flute
a dead forest lives.