Sunday, 10 January 2010
Thursday, 31 December 2009
Oh! At least we can try!
This longing doesn't let me sleep in peace,
I keep hunting for colours in all the reeves,
It's a tree with red, yellow, blue, pink leaves,
Oh! My soul wants to tease, tease and tease.
Right, I see a gate of death, left I see a ray of hope,
Front I see a girl wanting to be high on a colorful dope,
Eyes with dreams, mind at work, and a tight grip of my ambition rope,
Oh! How much I want to start the journey for my life to cope!
Morning sun and the starry lit night sky,
The festival of Christ and a happy new year- why?
From celebrating everyday- how can we shy?
Let us live and let others too! Oh! At least we can try!
I keep hunting for colours in all the reeves,
It's a tree with red, yellow, blue, pink leaves,
Oh! My soul wants to tease, tease and tease.
Right, I see a gate of death, left I see a ray of hope,
Front I see a girl wanting to be high on a colorful dope,
Eyes with dreams, mind at work, and a tight grip of my ambition rope,
Oh! How much I want to start the journey for my life to cope!
Morning sun and the starry lit night sky,
The festival of Christ and a happy new year- why?
From celebrating everyday- how can we shy?
Let us live and let others too! Oh! At least we can try!
Sunday, 18 October 2009
The Cradle of Darkness
In the cradle of darkness and demise,
The mist is all over on everyone's eyes,
You call me, call me, call me, to see the rise,
Ahhh!It is in the lap of the brutal demon of pain that she lies!
Love in the eyes of a snake,
War in the eyes of the fairy,
Rape in the eyes of the priest,
And Divinity in the bays of aching rain!
Tears I want not, tears I need badly,
A few words of affection from you ...
Oh!!! only in weirdest fantasies,
I love, no more, my desires that deceit!
Lost in the era of sadists,
Found in the mirage of the gleaming hopes,
Naked and clothed at the same time,
Far far away in the desolate entangling ropes.
Roses on my marriage and roses on her death,
Tears on my victory and tears for her soul,
White of the fairy and that of the cremate,
Red of her passion and red of my soaked blood untold.
Cold is my life and so is her snow,
Dark is the swallowing mist around,
And nowhere to go- for simplicity,I breath and live,
In the cradle of this bleak darkness of my dark life alive!
The mist is all over on everyone's eyes,
You call me, call me, call me, to see the rise,
Ahhh!It is in the lap of the brutal demon of pain that she lies!
Love in the eyes of a snake,
War in the eyes of the fairy,
Rape in the eyes of the priest,
And Divinity in the bays of aching rain!
Tears I want not, tears I need badly,
A few words of affection from you ...
Oh!!! only in weirdest fantasies,
I love, no more, my desires that deceit!
Lost in the era of sadists,
Found in the mirage of the gleaming hopes,
Naked and clothed at the same time,
Far far away in the desolate entangling ropes.
Roses on my marriage and roses on her death,
Tears on my victory and tears for her soul,
White of the fairy and that of the cremate,
Red of her passion and red of my soaked blood untold.
Cold is my life and so is her snow,
Dark is the swallowing mist around,
And nowhere to go- for simplicity,I breath and live,
In the cradle of this bleak darkness of my dark life alive!
Monday, 12 October 2009
Her Warm Heart and Warm Arms
These are tears dropping down my cheeks,
Neither shrieking out of pain this time,
Nor are mere mute spectators,
They are cooling the flames inside,
Yes! The rolling flames of Sorrow!
They are aimless vagabonds tonight onwards,
All the reasons of course dead and entombed,
No wishes, no dreams, no colours anymore,
No definitions of joy and hope,
And black itself a luxury unfathomable!
The dark skies and dull hearts,
Sorrow itself is obsolete,
Where next can my feet reach,
When they have been amputated,
With words sharper than the sharpest knives!
Is it life or lif...
Cant recall the spelling of existence,
Is it the intensity of Death's resistance!
There is nothing more to go numb,
There is nothing more to go mute and dumb.
It is only a wreathing roller coaster of fire,
Touching me, ruining me carefully,
Just burning me at the right moments,
Without standing in the dock for accusation,
Yet, fulfill it's venomous sins!
Have stopped asking when the sun will rise,
Have stopped urging for goodness charm,
Have forgotten what love used to be,
And the cozy sweet home cuckoo alarm...
If I remember it is only and only,
My mother's warm heart and warm arms!
Neither shrieking out of pain this time,
Nor are mere mute spectators,
They are cooling the flames inside,
Yes! The rolling flames of Sorrow!
They are aimless vagabonds tonight onwards,
All the reasons of course dead and entombed,
No wishes, no dreams, no colours anymore,
No definitions of joy and hope,
And black itself a luxury unfathomable!
The dark skies and dull hearts,
Sorrow itself is obsolete,
Where next can my feet reach,
When they have been amputated,
With words sharper than the sharpest knives!
Is it life or lif...
Cant recall the spelling of existence,
Is it the intensity of Death's resistance!
There is nothing more to go numb,
There is nothing more to go mute and dumb.
It is only a wreathing roller coaster of fire,
Touching me, ruining me carefully,
Just burning me at the right moments,
Without standing in the dock for accusation,
Yet, fulfill it's venomous sins!
Have stopped asking when the sun will rise,
Have stopped urging for goodness charm,
Have forgotten what love used to be,
And the cozy sweet home cuckoo alarm...
If I remember it is only and only,
My mother's warm heart and warm arms!
Thursday, 10 September 2009
20:20 @ Opus
Cloudless clime and starry night sky,
The place was lit with secreted candle lights,
It was time for revelry for a pair of golden eyes,
The two of them had given 20:20 a big delight!
From formal seating to warm signs,
From the unsettled silence to music and smiles
The unquenchable thirsts to tequila shots and wines,
Yes, it was merry-making reverberating many miles.
The clicks and flashes began with Tarana and Ian,
With vivacious Kalia, sharing brilliant snap-ops.
The two Mangalorean beauties (Sanjana and Aditi) next to me,
Had unlimited talks with divine manna dew drops.
There, on the extreme corner of the table,
Lean and lanky Viju, laughed and talked.
Giving us some interesting fables,
He enjoyed seeing Pourush locked and lost.
Oh what a sport, Pourush proved to be!
Grabbed the microphone with no hitches inside,
The lonely Mizo boy had set the tone for many,
The stage was now set for others to glide.
Soon, the musical flames rolled on,
Caught the heart of the pleased, Murali.
Jumping on the stage, he rocked with Bon,
Splendid! Yes, it was, really!
Priya in her white was calm and composed,
Booze-less, seemed to be enjoying the roar.
Left a little early for some other chores,
Will keep it as a memory of the Opus galore.
Ranbir’s fan, Vaishnavi was a cherubim-like lass,
Hopping in the arena, she had a great time.
Priyank Wagre organized yet enjoyed the bass,
Unfeigned with a lovely and caring rhyme.
Edna, the darling, and Ronny, the dude,
With similar and twin, twinkling expressions,
Raced the party with zeal and zest,
Inspired and encourage, kept no reservations.
Dech, the damsel, with her curly locks,
And, Rhia dear, with her beautiful eyes,
Left everyone’s heart with loud tick-tocks,
Persis’s complexion was on a pinky blush rise.
The last song of the day came to our plate,
Oh wow! We became even the karaoke guy's long.
Everyone joined in- from suave Ian to cute Guri,
It became a rhythmic homie-ching-chong.
Time ran like horses in a war,
Oh! Past twelve, we left with a power.
Relaxed, rejuvenated yet a little tired,
The sweet weariness in our memories to flower!
Wednesday, 19 August 2009
The Answer
Is it passion, if it is lost at a hit on the ground,
Is it life if gone just by a small lightening bolt,
Is it love if wiped out by a single doubt around,
Is it she if she cries hopeless about a future smile?
Her love for life is so big that she can revive the world,
Her trust in faith is still strong enough to break all barriers,
Her sharp eyes are just enough to straighten the emotions curled,
Her remnant courage is just what she needs to fight the bad time out.
It is not her if she puts her weapons down,
It is not her if she puts her ambitions low,
It is not her if she leaves the battle midway like a clown,
It is not her if she no more believes in the vow.
Oh... Look at her ... How majestic she looks!
With dauntless charm on her face as ever,
She is back to teach a lesson to those worthless crooks,
To tear their sinews with just a mighty blow and be the winner forever.
Is it life if gone just by a small lightening bolt,
Is it love if wiped out by a single doubt around,
Is it she if she cries hopeless about a future smile?
Her love for life is so big that she can revive the world,
Her trust in faith is still strong enough to break all barriers,
Her sharp eyes are just enough to straighten the emotions curled,
Her remnant courage is just what she needs to fight the bad time out.
It is not her if she puts her weapons down,
It is not her if she puts her ambitions low,
It is not her if she leaves the battle midway like a clown,
It is not her if she no more believes in the vow.
Oh... Look at her ... How majestic she looks!
With dauntless charm on her face as ever,
She is back to teach a lesson to those worthless crooks,
To tear their sinews with just a mighty blow and be the winner forever.
Tuesday, 18 August 2009
When
The sun is in the dark,
The fishes are dry,
The sky is looking for shelter,
And Music is groping for her own voice!
The idiot box is seamlessly befriending her,
The fridge invites her for more and more food,
The wrecked shelves of the rack are staring at her,
And the unsettled blanket is crying for her warmth.
The balcony gate is cruel like a cage,
The curtains are behaving like a mirage,
The bed she is on, is no less than a hideous monster,
And the Wall is hunting for the latent truth.
When will the sun rise again?
When will the fish breathe in water again?
When will the sky be her shelter again?
When will music sooth the ears again?
The fishes are dry,
The sky is looking for shelter,
And Music is groping for her own voice!
The idiot box is seamlessly befriending her,
The fridge invites her for more and more food,
The wrecked shelves of the rack are staring at her,
And the unsettled blanket is crying for her warmth.
The balcony gate is cruel like a cage,
The curtains are behaving like a mirage,
The bed she is on, is no less than a hideous monster,
And the Wall is hunting for the latent truth.
When will the sun rise again?
When will the fish breathe in water again?
When will the sky be her shelter again?
When will music sooth the ears again?
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