Age

He was but a boy of thirteen, with shiny eyes full of dreams.
The same beautiful eyes saw his father die.
They were still the same, as beautiful as ever,
but their owner changed, aged years in no time.
With or without the dreams eyes shinned the same.

You don’t age in numbers or year.
You do age 
in scars, tragedies, and experience. 

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.

Soil

We are nothing but soil,
we wake up every day
trade soil for soil
sit high on our dunes
soil is all we have,
it creates us, feed us,
watch us rise, grow taller,
get old and die
and in the end
we become one, the soil.
Dead or alive,
we are nothing but soil.
………………………………………………