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 

The Clouds

The thick floating clouds
rainless, far away, 
the agents of obstruction 
to sunlight
moonlit night, 
just like the floating thoughts 
of past, 
inconsistent
inconsequential 
abstract 
but not without strings 
of mementos, 
the slow silent movements of 
clouds often
prolonging the hide-and-seek pains.
The clouds become sometimes tears, 
even now, 
with roaring thunders, 
shivering lightning.
Evaporation 
craves to orphan 
the gone but unforgettable syndrome 
or embrace a better consumption pattern of the present, the now, 
to overpower the faded canvas, 
to invite a soothing past tomorrow 
or a friendly cloud 
much later!


Kamakhya 




Half Love

The sea beach 
and the marching waves,
excited,nervous 
oblivious of hitting where
castles are built,
rebuilt in the pinkish air
exhilaration rules 
the adrenaline,
jasmine enamours everywhere.
Waves but return 
cracks appear in mirror 
or patches in cracks,
sort of unknown virus 
retreating warmth
subtle but sure,
to dreams,halfway 
en route the failed fantasies.
Silences amidst commotion,
in the day 
or midnights solitary soliloquy,
with moments of mementos
tired tears 
like a defeated heart.
Half empty 
or half full
who will do the litmus test
now? 
The picturesque garden of autumn,
had an entry,
exit gate too,
everything happens 
for a reason,
predestined 
preordained?
may be.

Photo credit:pixels.com

Kamakhya 



Light

Steep road 
curves galore
the pain of walking,
so generic,
so much of commonality 
of being lost in the crowd 
still the energies gathered
and priorities made, 
consciously to show case 
all the instincts,
soaked in self-centeredness 
and I,me, mine! 
the traits of disqualification
made to qualify everything 
except goodness and warmth 
the road to conscience,
anyways 
always there, right there 
not being satisfied following 
the herd! 
the light amidst darkness,
may be there 
at the end of the tunnel 
or instantly in a craving heart,
in a surrendering soul 
or in a path sans ignorance.


Kamakhya 

Image Credit:Google 

Euphoria

Something missing 
Somewhere,
amidst the deafening buzz
and euphoria.
The whisper whistling  despair 
and remorse,
still sneaking in.
Someone behind the drapery,
shouting at me
the black shadow of conscience,
dissecting my thoughts threadbare,
cursing the polluted chambers of heart,
deep inside 
at the epicentre of my karma(actions).
Guilt and repentance
Just entered my room,
to talk to me,
recriminating all the way
in the wintry night,
a quandary in the misty festivities, 
ephemeral glitz outside 
and the snowflakes around.
Why I did not keep a track,
I wonder
how the rising resolutions of quiet midnights to transcend,
had fallen paralysed in the new mornings,
strangulating the goodness or godliness with a rope of lust or matter.
Unbelievable.
The smiling light with embracing hands still calling me near,
lovingly,
to forgive,love me
asking me to replicate 
the same for others.

Merry Christmas!


Kamakhya 
Image Credit:unplash.com 



Why should you

images (1)

the moon light may play

hide and seek,

hiding behind the black clouds

why should you?

the soundless sound

and the aura of emptiness

may have managed to stay back

in my room or  the foyer,

the loneliness and pains

may have lied to be okay,

beneath a brave posture

why should you?

people may say and forget

what they had said,

the crowd may misunderstand

the congestion in my heart,

the logjam of uneasinesses

or the obscure silence , in between

why should you?

the snowfall

might have buried everything,

under its way,

covering the beautiful mementos,

en route

why should you?

Kamakhya

Image credit : Google

Rejoinder

Silent was the sun
except the sunbeams and brightness 
it scattered,  during the day 
why the fickle moon raising 
so many questions needing emphatic 
answers in the midnight!

Between the scorching heat and 
uneasy moonlit late night,
sandwiched is the failed fantasy 
like the half-burnt wood 
simmering with last remnants of hot ashes.
Questions never stopped gate-crashing
but who will give pacifying matching answers
when mystery reigns in the wintry night,
acute uneasinesses rules the mind
severe pain pierces the heart 
and paradoxes fill the air?
The fragrance of sweet Jasmine 
and the cool breeze,outside,
are trying their best to palliate things, consolating en route a distraction 
but why it can't be from the sources it is needed most? 
if not now in the moonlit night 
then at least in the new morning? 


Kamakhya 

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