Bells will ring again

The mountain of fear
is out, set free, 
to unleash the fury 
in the lanes, by lanes 
upheavals of anxiety 
amidst collapsing faith, 
out to circumvent lives 
everything is down, 
shutdown 
but who will shutdown
the soul!
it will emerge stronger, 
evolving
discovering 
rediscovering 
the new I or you!
everything is down, 
shutdown 
but who will shutdown 
'the time'
it will flow, 
unscathed, 
carrying in its waves, 
all that come in its way, 
the transitory dirt
the viruses and bacteria.
bells will ring again 
roads will be manned again 
love will replace suspicion, 
deaths will be delayed
hopes will be myriad 
butterflies will play carefree
rainbows will be  sighted, 
in the sky or lives! 

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

 

 

 

 

 

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 

Choked









silence of silences

soundless sound

of solitude

except my friends

photo frame and lamp

midnight is now

broad day light

you know what

the dusty mementos of our love

are scattered all around

in my small room

I get choked with

the smokes from

half – burnt woods

or wounds !

tired , exhausted

the aurora of hope

my only strength ,

my virtual tendril

Kamakhya

Image Credit : Google

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

 

 

 

 

 

Twilight

the darkness has set in
before it is completely dark
the light slipping away,
from the horizon!
the painful uncertainty,
of waiting,
against a certainty of journey
the sinking confidence,
the mounting insecurities,
all started with,
the birth of wrinkles
a confluence,
of fear, anxiety, hopelessness
the so called freedom,
now in the lock up,
and individuality,
already jailed!
aching compromises..
now christened adaptability!
the stacked up tears
in the heart,
and longings,
in the deep swollen eyes,
trying to convey...
" please understand me..
the physical decline,
natural,may be a part of life,
but the moral decline,
by you all,
is not the art of life"
the living Gods,
living in obscurity
like an abandoned structure,
co-existing with new houses
I knew them long before,
in their youth
who gave everything,
to their offsprings,
who built the families,
the societies,
being the architects of values,
erudition,hopes, welfare!
or who kept everything ready,
for the posterity to enjoy 
more than they,
I want them to be loved,
understood,cared for..
for the twilight
is as universal and generic,
as life and death 
for hope against hopes
is also called hope!