Creative Ramblings

These poems are a collective impression of the day to day saga that unfolds itself in society and life in many forms- the Mumbai local train blasts, the cruel handling of many national tragedies , the exaggeration of trivia and many more . All these impressions have come together and led me to “exhale” like this .They were written sometime back . It is only at the insistence of a friend that I am publishing them today ….


The Tsunami

The first stirrings of pain
The gush of angst
The brave struggle to face the avoidable and yet sustain
The turbulent waves of agony and bitterness
Touching the shores that perhaps never were still or stable
Always shifting
The storm of anger and disgust
The calm at times at the centre
And then the tongue of fury all over again
Trying to engulf whatever it can
Like a gigantic tsunami
Leaving but shreds and pieces in its wake
Pretending as if it never came


The saga

The stillness in the surroundings
The calm that perhaps had an antithetical predecessor
The peace after the wholeness is just pieces strewn everywhere
This is the silence of the cemetery
The light that burns pyres and dispels darkness
This is the unfolding of the saga of existence


The Blur

Everything is just a blur
A haze that has folded clarity in a neat envelope and posted it to a neverland
As we take steps blindfolded
Not knowing where the next blurry step will land
The slaying of goodness , light , purity
In the blur
No one knows what happens in such hazy environs



The Journey

Fleeting from one point to another
Trying to find solace wherever one can
The milestones at times like huge boulders
Blocking the way
But dissolve in the bright light of the day
The darkness that falls everyday and brings with it uninvited passengers
Followed by light which again fleets from one point to another


Dysfunctional

Whatever was hanging loose on the last hinge of hope
Has fallen apart
The antique piece has become dysfunctional
It does not affect the passers by though
They do not use it
They do not care for its value
It just exists like an eighth wonder of the world
Taken for granted by its sheer existence and presence


The warp and weft

The warp and weft woven dexterously many times
Woven together sometimes by the sleight of the hand that has got used to the daily ordeal of weaving the same old rug
The warp and weft of relationships
That bind us all to each other
Bindings of affection , love or worse -habit !


CRY
The angst and the pain
At the cry that has gone unheard
The shout and howl
Of a generation that has expended
Itself on things that have
Suddenly lost value
In the stock market of relations and personal interests
The CRY for the stock that was nurtured fondly
But remains undervalued in the myriad jostles and pushes
Of the daily market hours
And perhaps will remain so


Insanity
The ravings of insanity
Pleading the cause of sanity
Trying to establish sanity and logic
In a topsy-turvy world
So the crutch of insanity to
Ensure that sanity is able to hobble
On a road strewn with rashness and thoughtlessness


The memories
The fondness of sweet , salty and small memories
The happiness in little pleasures
The small acts of goodness that would light faces
The pure laughter that would fill all kinds of voids
All these are but memories etched on the stone called passing time and the papyrus of fleeting whispers


The aftermath
The Tsunami has struck and gone
The shore is littered with all kinds of objects
Known and unknown
The waves will wash off all
Yet some remain stuck in the sinking sand
Persistent , unwilling to get washed off so soon