writing

Reflections

Posted on by Springstart@life : Kamakhya 

It  was  not possible
to  move  ahead 
or  go  back
The  wavering  statues
were  flying in the blue sky,
invited
uninvited
and were waiting sometimes,
at  the  crossroads of mind,
in the  city  of  heart,
for  the serpentine river of past,
for the melting away of ices
in to tears!


If you had told once then,
I would have tied up
with a rope
that biased  mind,
would have requested
the autumn
the sun
the moon,
to wait  a  little,
would have added
little  more  fuel
to  the  dying depleting lamp!


The characters of
black  and  white days,
most often  now a days,
knock my doors,
while sleeping,
eyes closed but heart open.
They say..
' I  see  bad dreams'.
but  i  love  to
walk around
with a lantern and stick in my hand,
from my intrinsic original nature
to  my  professed  acts,
from   lashing  rains
to  flowing  tears, heartaches
from  festivity  of  vices 
to  the  dream  of  Nirvana,
from  hopes  of  life 
to  ignoring  the  death,
from  best kept  secrets 
to  always  propagating  lies!


@ Kamakhya

Image credit:https://unsplash.com

# Throwback

Posted on by Springstart@life : Kamakhya

There was no way to go,

either go back

or move ahead.

The statues kept flying

in the cool blue sky ,

descending down

to appear before me intermittently

at the crossroads,

lanes, by lanes, traffic junctions !

The iceberg in heart

had started melting ,

the trumpet of being helpless

had already blown, with wrinkles.

There were no expectations

to get anything.

Do you know?

If you had told at least once then,

I could have caged

my wavering mind and heart ,

I could have added

little more fuel to a depleting lamp !

They say…

‘ I talk a lot in sleep.

But i just love to walk around,

on the streets i visited once,

with a lantern in my hand,

from lashing rains to flowing tears

from blushes to knoll of hatred,

from storms to lighthouses

from vices to self-proclaimed virtues , way to Nirvana

from crowd to solitude

from useless loquacity and lies

to best kept secrets and truths !

I just search , dissect

the years gone by

I just build

rebuild, break

the earthen dolls of past !

I just count

recount

the life’s earnings !

Kamakhya 














        
    
			




			
				


	

	

		
Do you know?
		

						Posted on  by Springstart@life : Kamakhya		

	


	

		

Do  you  know?  





failures  and  rejections 





are   scattered  around  





the  floor  of  my  house





and  I  still   





collect 





preserve 





those  broken  pieces  of  mirror, 





obsolete  coins, 





handful  of  mists, 





in   half-broken 





half-full  heart   





in    the   midnight?  





Someone,   a  black   shadow 





standing   still 





behind   the  drapery, 





unmoved 





reticent. 





I  sometimes  long  





to   find   a   vibrant  soul , 





a   talking   parrot, 





an   unseasonal  stream  of  love 





from  the  shadow 





overenthusiastically 





but   amidst 





rains   of  tears 





cyclone  of  heartache 





and   darkness  of  failed  fantasies, 





nothing  is  seen or  heard  





in  the  soundless  post  midnight?  





Do  you  know ?  





the  questions  





needing  soothing  answers, 





ironically,  go  on  to  present 





more  and  more  new  questions, 





smokes  of   crackers, 





thick  black   clouds  





and   a   battlefield   





of   anxieties,  despair, 





a  secluded  long  serpentine  road  ahead? 










@ Kamakhya 





Image credit : Maru  Lombardo


































































			




			
				


	

	

		
The  Distant Sky
		

						Posted on  by Springstart@life : Kamakhya		

	


	

		

The  crowd  
did not evidence  
anyone,  to be called 
very  own ! 
don't  know  why? 
there  was  no cool shade 
under the banyan tree
what was there  was 
heatwave  and  rejection 
there were no sounds 
of  love  and  equanimity!

The river where it was earlier, 
now a barren land 
the jungle 
now  a city of jealousy!
don't  know 
whether I am there or not 
where I used to be?  

The person evading death 
in the name of waiting 
for it, 
doesn't  know yet
what to search 
when or where to search!
standing still 
or  consciously  unconscious, 
he himself 
in his own hands 
makes  a  disturbed, 
unsatisfied  soul 
fly away 
to  a  distant sky, 
to an uncertain realm! 

@Kamakhya 
















			




			
				


	

	

		
Waiting.. //
		

						Posted on  by Springstart@life : Kamakhya		

	


	

		

What  else  





I  could   have  done  





than   waiting ! 





the  sun   moon   stars , 





all   waited   along   with   me  





before    retiring   for  the   day  





only    to   join   me  





the   next   day, 





on   my   waiting   spree !  





I   continued   keeping  





the   doors   and   windows  





of   my   heart   and   soul  





open, 





unreserved 





undistracted 





only   to   witness   





the   glimmer   of   enlightenment 





enamour   me, 





handhold   me  





in   transcending   





to   the   other   side   of   river, 





towards   tranquility  and   bliss 





to   the   woods  comprising 





‘ you   and   me  ‘ 





towards   the   realization  





of      You   are   with   me !  





@  Kamakhya  


























			




			
				


	

	

		
Life
		

						Posted on  by Springstart@life : Kamakhya		

	


	

		

I  asked  death
is  there  death?  
death  said.. 
No. 
there  is  life. 
death  only separates life, 
in different  strata!
Death is  amidst 
and  within life, 
everyday, everywhere, 
in pursuit of 
hatred 
Jealousy 
and  greed!
Virtue is 
passion for compassion 
Vice  is being instrumental 
for inflicting  pains, 
to  others!


@ Kamakhya 


			




			
				


	

	

		
Gateway
		

						Posted on  by Springstart@life : Kamakhya		

	


	

		

Vagaries of  emotions, 





turbulent





serene.





deep down,





a  driver subconscious





sees things





feels the horizon





as  rich or trivial  raw material





it is stacked with !





simplicity is also called erudition ,





a mental plane dedicated





and surrendered to the omnipresent





is also called  the higher version





Of  self realization, 





the  gateway to truth and emancipation





Kamakhya

			




			
				


	

	

		
Being there
		

						Posted on  by Springstart@life : Kamakhya		

	


	

		

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 

			




			
				


	

	

		
Bells will ring again
		

						Posted on  by Springstart@life : Kamakhya		

	


	

		

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 



			




			
				


	

	

		
The Clouds
		

						Posted on  by Springstart@life : Kamakhya		

	


	

		

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