The Story

I see this monument,
Looks like an old palace,
Standing amidst the mountains,
Singing the dirge of its abandonment.

It saw many generations,
Kings and queens reigned in it,
Common men envied the skill of its creator,
Once that stood with regal dignity,
Is now a heap of stones,
Left behind by an anonymous ruler.

It regaled the historians with its tales,
Sure it found its place in books,
Won the hearts of people,
For whom it is a part of history and
Who never cared how it looked.

It withstood the forces of nature,
All these years, but now is battered and weak,
Once that stood too bold to be shaken,
Will soon fall and break into pieces,
taking with it the ‘buried lives’.

A new monument will take its place,
Beaming with pride and ‘immortality’,
Starting a new fold of generations,
Weaving slowly its own story…

For You, My Dad...

I still remember your joyous applause
when I circled around you on my bicycle
the incessant laughs that soared my confidence
when I let go of your hand.

The toy you carved has lost its worth
And I no longer save it for my dubious fantasies
I no longer have to lift my head to look at you
As I have grown taller..
But here I am, much assured that you are there should I falter.

I don’t dine with you anymore and don’t even wait for your call
I like to hear your voice once in a while
but look for matters to talk
I shrugged my head every time you said “listen to what I have to say..”

But here i am, standing in the middle of my life
Prioritizing my priorities and thinking of ways to find a way
Sometimes I succeed, and sometimes I fail
But every time I try, I mutter..“my dad used to say…”

LET BE....

Don’t push me, it’s not gonna survive,
I abstain myself from the dearth of being normal, and I shall thrive.

I stink at the foul game of galore,
I can’t be myself, I am what others abhor..
I lurk in the skies, but scared to fly
I like the likes, but I dare not say why
I am cusped in the silence of lust,
Beckoned love, but you let it rust..

I held your hand, and it was a sin,
but I shall fight, till you believe in what I have been..
I belong to the truth even nature defies,
I live, I see, but my life is unharmed by your lies.

I see faces laughing and heads nodding
Insipid the thought may be, but it’s me
I don’t whine for not being like you,
Littered in your heart, I rot.... and I smile..

Don’t push me, it’s not gonna survive,
I abstain myself from the dearth of being normal, and I shall thrive…

This is a poem about homosexuality and its acceptance by the society.
Placed above is the painting by Nikolay Gay titled "Achilles Lamenting the Death of Patroclus", 1985.

The untold..

Striking the chords, engrossed in rhythm
I saw this man, against the flickering lights,
Notes to altar, a voice so feeble
Cuddled in a corner, away from the earthly pries..

Trembling fingers fumbled the strings
As he sang songs of the country
A faint smile shadowed the tears,
Bespoke of lingering pains so many..

In rags his attire and bearded look,
A door of thoughts left ajar..
Money was not something he sought, I felt
Singing away his blues brought his disparities at par.

I stared at him from a distance
His constant eyes never moved
Wrapped in his inclusion, his voice rang in my ears
His eyes had stories beheld
Never to be told...no one to hear..

The Painting

The gleam in her eyes bespoke my memories,

I melt in the coldness they now possess

We shared a bond above the untold

Broken now by the mortal ties

But here I capture her all alive

Walking in the shadows of death

She still smiles whenever I look

Beholding her speech beneath that stifled breath

A dream I lived with her as a part

Each stroke of mine relives the past

Erasing the fact–what comes shall depart

With love I lived; with memories it would last

She defines the unblemished creation

Sitting beside a river, her fingers break the flow

A dress so white paints her sanity

The satin darkness pays a bow

Her beauty reflected on the water

Is disfigured by the unruly ripples

I touch the reflection, my thoughts waver

Fighting the fear of losing forever

I paint in grief, with colors so dull

As murky memories rain on me

My hands red, my vision blurred

I stand in pain as I see

Holding my tears, I close my eyes

Waiting to see something unknown

I found someone beside the river

Closer to her, I saw a figure,

Wrapped in blood, was my own..

Masquerade

This poem depicts the life of a girl who is pushed into the sex trade and how it slowly changes everything around her...including her pride.

Standing amidst a crowd alone,
looking for answers, queries unknown
a pat on the back or a smiling nod,
but all u get is unfriendly air,
lewd glances, and filthy stare.

Steps taught, are so common,
you move in a rhythm known,
names changed under a common abode,
a fair price, and you are sold.

The sleepless nights when you are made to sleep,
with strangers in the dark, sharing intimacy,
curtains unfolded, blinded the faith,
shattered inside, no more do you pray.

Heart unfathomed, and feelings unheard,
beauty untouched on a body so bare,
untold dreams are muffled inside,
as deafening shrieks of silence you hear.

In ales you bathe and flowing lucre,
stifled cries now turned to laughter,
spitting, cursing, enraged on love,
calling names, you win hearts one after the other.

Wearing a mask, you forget the pain
quenching the 'thirst' against the rain,
shining amulets lost their value,
as in a Masquerade you dance again..

My Training

Setting my alarm clock to five,
I sleep with a sense of satisfaction,
well, sleep does come without notice,
for my body aches in its anticipation.

To give it a little more boost,
I walk my way to the stop,
I pronounce myself a fitness freak,
I couldn't have borne the brunt,
if at all my legs could speak..

Hunger sprawling in my stomach,
I get into my cab,
As if speaking would increase the hunger,
no one dares to utter,
well, this explains the silence while going,
my friend, you dont wanna know what comes after..

Standing in a queue, I wait for my turn,
plate in hands, we are served one by one.
Though 'inmates', the only thing missing
are uniforms with stripes black and white,
"worst food" recipe was misplaced I guess,
they do add salt, which helps it go down the pipe.

Torture on legs was not yet over,
have cycles to process and protocols to cover,
on heavy bottles and chemicals I strive,
nose mask for safety?
I think Personal protection equipments can take your life.

Thinking of taking a break,
I go to the coffee corner,
though the machine tried its best,
it just coulnt make cappuchino any colder.

now as the needle strikes six, I sit back n relax,
time to go back, but wait, this is not the end.
Local music for your pleasure
did they forget their hearing aids,
as they talk in inhuman gestures!
Nah! music so loud, atleast it makes the traffic look subtle,
I reach home with ringing ears,
winning finally, a lost battle..

But at the end, I need to confess,
these are the things, I now miss,
lying on my bed, as I think,
Four months did pass in a wink..