A house on top of a hill..

There is a beautiful house on top of a hill. The sunlight reveals the many roads. The driver has the steering wheel.

Touched by love..

Have you ever been touched by love? Not just any touch.., the one that permeates to one's soul. And not just any love.., the one that's meant to uplift one's existence altogether.

The feeling of a warm evening cozied up inside me as I held close to my heart that love. It was as delicate as the petals of a rose and as soft as the touch of silk. It was beaming of togetherness and was as coy as a sunset gently glazing the years of yearnings into yearnings for the years to come.

One's universe is filled with the emotions one never imagined would live again. One never imagined one would live again. One is now drawn by its gravity - spiralling in happines as the soul travels to merge with.

And as one puts it in words, "We are but the sum of our dreams and experiencs", and having experienced it, one's life now sums up to a stupor awaiting one's dream come true.

Rishikesh

The leaves were rustling, and the morning breeze caressed her face. She had rushed through a shower and her wet hair was clipped. She had wrapped herself in a shawl wearing a black top and blue palazzo - I saw her wearing a pleasant smile as she walked towards me, mesmerizing as she looked. I was already high from the day before, a day that was a dream, or was it a dream that was the day? This morning was another..

As we stood by the ledge of the Swiss cafe, I saw the morning dawn a beautiful hue across the cloudy mountain top. People throng the city searching.. seeking spirituality, seeking the meaning of their being and their life. Every little nook and corner of this city lights up their mind and invigorates the soul within.

As I looked across the ledge at the meandering holy river shrouded by the mountains, I realised that my life has been meandering to reach to this point in time and space to humble me with the fact that everything that I truly needed, consciously, sub-consciously, and beyond desire.., that which is shinging bright and invigorates my existence, was standing next to me.

I lived that moment, I lived that day..

adorning austerities..? adorn universe!

If only it were, one wonders, in life, what is austere? If life is, but a sum of experiences and relationships, life is not, neither are experiences, nor are relationships austere.

The universe spins things up.., it fabricates the desires of experiences and relationships, embellishes it with dreams and braids it with hopes into figments of imagination.

One imagines it, manifests it, adorns it, and wears it with conviction and certitude in their mind and heart till it becomes one's identity.

Well.., only till the dream becomes a reality forever, or till the reality fades forever into a dream.. But the universe never stops on its job of spinning things up!

cloud 9..

The journey brings me back to this place again - a place among the clouds. How long has it been, one wonders.., seems like it's been a lifetime. 

And a lifetime one has lived - the soul is the witness, and it renders the testimony, vindicating one of the crime of having lost the emotions. The lost emotions were not lost though. They were the price one had to pay.

Life has its own longing to live, to experience happiness and to shine bright.

The sun is shining bright and the cold is no where to be found. The breeze caresses one's heart and soothes the uneasiness brewing sleepless nights.

Sleep is not even a distant sight when one is in the clouds, albeit distant..

one feels...

“…hosh hai zara, zara zara khumaar hai ji,

chhedh ke gaya, woh aise dil ke taar hai ji…”

 

Enveloped in the comfort of a voice, wrapping oneself, in the emotions, whipped and whisked, one rolls on the bed of thoughts as the sound of laughter strums melodies. Happiness.

 

"…saari saari, raat jaagun…

…dil ki harkatein, mere samajh ke paar hai ji…"

 

Senses confuse, defies logic, ignores needs… Hope, wishes, and longings stir and enliven the soul. A flame is lit, and it begins to rage with vehemence. Passion.

 

"…jiski aas mein huyi, subah se dopehar,

shaam ko usi ka intezaar hai ji…"

 

The day won’t break – the sun brews a stupor in the cauldron of possibilities. The twinkling of stars lights up the mind and stoke a plea for the love of living. Yearning.

 

"…is kadar kisi ki dhun sawar hai ji…

…apne faisle pe mujhko aitbaar hai ji…"

 

The scarred heart chronicles the journey in a language only known to the likes. As life secedes from the past, it draws the soul to a trail that revives. Faith.

the diary labeled 1998-2000...

In the midst of spring cleaning, I came across a diary labeled 1998 - 2000. It was my first poems diary. I had written dozens of poems, some of them are kiddish, and others are way too kiddish, but what amazes me is that I did manage to write a lot from 1998 - 2000, more than what I had written from 2001 - 2005.

Here are few of of them...