Being there

I thought 
how difficult it to be 
being there,
being there with them,
who are fighting each second 
for a survival, 
without giving a damn,
to that luxurious car, a dine out
or a favourite drink
Being there with them,
who are struggling to tide over
the acute poverty in every walk 
of life 
Being there with them,
who are still being misunderstood 
for no fault of theirs 
Being there with them,
who want nothing from me 
but little loving time or patience 
Being there with them,
who want me to understand them
before I take my indifferent stand! 
Don't know 
how I don't understand,
being there with them,
is the purpose of my being! 



Kamakhya 

Dew

The smiling dew
on the hibiscus,
silent,cool,refreshed 
the epitome of innocence 
the rainbow of happiness 
and tranquillity
no matter how short-lived 
it is,
with the invasion of sun,
a little later.
How come the sticky pains,
still there to unleash its fury,
time and again,
the siren of the past,
still plays its tunes,
the stream of tears 
still flows,
the heart still embraces 
the melancholy.
Why not the past evaporates 
with the vapours of the present,
the flavours of NOW!


Kamakhya 


Image Credit:Google 

Proclivity

images-proclivity

the proclivity 
to stay unaffected 
is nothing new 
the sufferings
the pains of people around
making no impact 
to look beyond the self 
the servitude to matter and ego 
incapacitating the consciousness 
to ignite the true nature 
of we denizens 
the so called hyperbole 
and nonchalance
do not heal people 
while 
the passion for compassion does
how less is too less
only the inner self can answer
the indifference to them today
will only reinforce the difference 
in our well being 
tomorrow 
accepting people as they are 
soaked in universal love
dislodging all the grudges 
makes sense
a big sense! 


Image credit : Google

 

 


			

Just like that

Oh my silence! 
how much you speak,
untired, alone 
amidst vast horizon 
of internal noises,
multiple screenshots,
background scores.

Oh the wind,
my friend,
here,there,nearby 
how much you talk,
en route
a platter of feelings,
earthy fragrance,
waves of jealousy 
news of paranoia 
a symphony of ecstasy,
goodness or godliness.

Oh my heart! 
how much you know,
how you treasure few,
discard some
and ignore many
how much you cry,
laugh,dance 
on the pedestal of emotions 
or backdrop of wisdom 
and ignorance 
how much you long
for the inaccessible,
embrace the penultimate 
realizations,
the elasticity of your sensitivity,
paving the way for 
the oscillation of thoughts 
and actions! 


Kamakhya 

Castle of hopes

the midnight soliloquy

and the castle of hopes

with bricks of  permutations,

combinations

built , rebuilt.

sea of  imagination

cool , blue

the tidal fantasy marching ahead,

carefree

don’t  know why

transitory white bubbles

die natural death !

retreating waves

cruising ahead to disseminate

the havoc of  pain.

believe me

the crossroads of  aching silences

will  not  be same again

for the cycle of  impermanence

will replace gloom with  glee ,

after few  hours

with the  new  aurora

castle of  hopes

this  time  will  be  built

on the  as  is  where  is  basis

on  the  edifice  of  living in the present

than  in   past  or  future

and  will be  rebuilt

with  the belief that

everything  happens

for  a  reason !

 

Kamakhya

 

 

 

 

 

Voice 2

The voices ,
Samaritan voices ,
Pristine , conscience enamoured,
at times did appear ,
radiating the abrupt spark
waving their hands from a distance,
feeble ,slow, inconsequential though ,
insinuating what to do
or not do ,
to be little kinder
little more compassionate empathetic
to love a little more ,
to others around
but only to be suppressed
by the aura of ego self-indulgence.
‘ I ‘ and ‘ why I ‘
being the circumventing force ,
the spoilers to the rainbow
or the fear of being a maverick!
butchered rationality,
even could not cry
before being buried
under the heaps of materialism,
core primitive voices
once again orphaned ,
left to strangulate themselves.
All the wisdom now inaccessible,
the goodness propaganda
already hiding some where,
deaf and dumb.
Stark ignorance amidst erudition,
is not embracing the simple truth:
All are one
and one is in All .


Kamakhya


Image Credit : Pixabay



			

Fresh Air

The intermittent noise,
inside the smoky zone of mind
turbulent waves 
of midnight loneliness 
in the uncalm sea of heart.
The summit of hopelessness,
resounds the echoes of guilt,
the flavours of Jasmine 
outside the windows,
could have become a disruption
or at least a diversion source,
to put a full stop 
to uneasinesses, 
cocktail abstract thoughts 
but it failed 
like the failed fantasy.
How long the stagnant taciturn 
night lamp will be the companion,
no body knows.
The heaviness in heart,
craves for a breath of fresh air,
an escape route 
but who cares!


Kamakhya

Image Credit: Google 

Cyclical

The rain is  over 
leaving the coolant effects,
every where.
The black thick clouds gone,
paving the way for the blue sky
happy sun ready to radiate 
the light to lives,
rejuvenated flora and fauna
all around.
No more lightning,
incessant thundering
or contingent fears.
The problem is,
mind's equanimity still a miss.
Recurring anxieties pains,
uneasinesses aloneness bouts of fears,
have come back to the cycle
from the hideouts 
to unleash the fury again,
just like the old evil spirit
refusing to vacate,
the abondonded house,
or the octogenarian gentleman,
on death bed,refusing to die
for the departing fulfilled greed,
has passed on the baton 
to others, of same genre,
in waiting, 
in serpentine queue.
The propensity to break away,
reinforces a passion for dispassion,
an uphill task,a slippery ground.
While the wait is for 
another soothing rain
or maturing of next greed,
the creator, up above the sky,
waits for a surrender of soul,
and psyche,
a dismantled doership,
an authoritarian I,
to the source! 


Kamakhya 

Souvenir

the past haunts 
the heart yearns to travel 
the same road again,
lanes of unadulterated love.
the drizzling rain and 
the umbrella 
gift many mementos 
the old library becomes 
a mediator again 
the photo frame comes alive 
I love the soliloquy 
that follows.
futile though,
I search you behind the drapery 
as if you are playing 
hide and seek late in the night
yes 
the present overpowers the past 
and time never looks back 
but to say that 
the 'now' will push the ' then '
into oblivion,
will be wrong.
what you say ?


Kamakhya 


Image Credit:Google 

The Sea & Crab

the sea looked 
little reposeful,
quiet,secluded 
reticent waves,
like my disturbed,
subdued,gloomy mind waves on the shore
serene blue expanse 
bereft of agility,
relishing the 'my space 'luxury 
in the land of intruders!

alone,perplexed,
I looked in its eye,
the mother of many in its lap,
gigantic yet modest 
unlike the non-entity,
ostentatious siblings,
in the plane.
little knowledge,
is a dangerous thing 
how little is too little,
amidst subjective scales
sans objectivity,
some how  reinforces,
how life is lost everyday,
a depleting debilitating syndrome,
a debacle of being! 

a new born crab 
just now rushed towards me 
for shelter, innocently 
unaware of,
how dangerous its protector can be
soon on my palm,
we understood the language 
of warmth,mutual respect 
love was in the air,
all around,
in the faces of small plants,
nearby,
in the  retreating foams,
in the brotherly winds,
dancing with joy,
in the sandy corridor 
the surging water,
suddenly kissing my feet,
the strangers looking,
known, very own.


Kamakhya 

Image Credit: Google