The silent script

Mine were sparkling,
His were lit.
The words that mine spoke,
meaning his reflected

When mine wavered,
his anchored
his filled, mine spilled.
They held it all
and said nothing.

Mine spoke, his listened
his answered to mine questioned
his tired, mine sheltered
to his mastered, mine surrendered.

The lifeline of our love
flows within
the endless silence
scripted in our eyes.

The purpose of idle thinking

I sit here, gaze
long lazy leisurely hours
are spent in a wasted haze.
My eyes
scanning everything but nothing.
A wholesome void,
my mind,
engulfed in thoughts
thinking everything but nothing.
A chain reaction is set afire.
One thought leading into other,
other into another,
another into nowhere.
Difficult as often perceived
but easy work it would be,
to do when you know
what,
how,
and why should you do it.
to be at when you know
where,
when,
and why should you be.
Idlism is no work as easy.

Being to nowhere is
not an ignorant bliss.
Traversing and processing
my memory lane,
from infinity negative to infinity plus
in a multi-directional plane;
to find the absolute value -
the purpose of idle thinking

The Alchemy of Love

Hunger is insatiable
touching, breathing in smell
is not enough,
neither is complete surrender.
I want to feel something more
more than the skin heating,
more than the hearts beating,
more than the souls meeting.
Wanting more is but nothing
more than the alchemy of desire.
A force; magical, mystical and mythical
turning,
absence into bitter presence
and presence into realism.
But isn't love surreal?
a thought illusioned by desire?

Desire could be
sleeping in nature's lap,
or indulging in worldly wraps
different to different body and mind
but could love be
different to different hearts it binds?
If it was
only respect,
they wouldn't fight like cats and dogs
only sharing,
they would fear the inevitable loss
only trust,
forgiveness wouldn't be required
only happiness,
sacrifice would be a waste
only sacrifice,
gratification of expectations wouldn't be so chaste.

All the geniuses ever born
Shakespeare, Eliot or Whitman
Mozart or Rehman
Da Vinci, Picasso or Vaughn
Buddha, Jesus or Ram
stroked down the sum and substance
of universe, nature, life and human
in golden
words, music, art or their Karma.

If alchemy of love was to be,
respect, sharing, trust, happiness or sacrifice

in perfect ratios combined,
All the creations of geniuses
and the genesis of al the creations to come
would be more than enough
to have it perfectly described.

And yet it is not so!

For could be there
a deal more unfair
than to barter being in love
with just its perfect alchemy?

A question I want to pose
to the geniuses and all those
who found it easier
to unravel the mysteries of universe and nature
than to uncover
the alchemy of love.

Or is it like they say,
human is oblivious to the most obvious of all?

"I'm happy" says it all

I’ve always believed that every feeling has layers to it except one. In all my writings, I’ve tried to explore these vivid shades of sadness, levels of motivation, depth of inspiration but never quite do so for happiness. I could fathom from being gloomy to heart-wrenching melancholy to slow aching agony to long settled hopelessness. Like the shades of blue that changes when you go deeper in the ocean depths.
 But never happiness. I have always felt that happy is such an absolute emotion. How can anyone be less or more happy? Doesn’t being less happy means you are sad about something, some unfulfilling feelings perhaps? I wonder which is worse, “I’m happy but…” or “I’m sad but…” I find a world of difference in them.
 I’ve recently withdrawn from writing; writing blog or poems or stories or even that matter my diary as well. I can’t seem to find enough words or rather suitable words to describe my level of happiness. One could argue how about down-in-the-gut-happy or floating-on-the-cloud 9-happy or deeply-contented-happy or just-day-to-day-happy? I don’t know one hell of a difference in any of them.
 I’ve often heard people saying, “I’m on cloud 9, I got my dream job” “I’m in bliss he proposed me for marriage” And then I wonder, how do they feel when they are doing their dream job everyday? Less than being on cloud 9? Less than bliss after being married?
 I don’t think I can ever have ifs and buts or more than and less than in my world of happiness. I think, “I’m happy” says it all for me!

The Wings of My Thoughts

Once upon a time
you had opened
my eyes
my heart
my thoughts,
and asked me
to take a flight.

You told me
I looked beautiful
when i flapped my wings,
spreading colors
in the monotonous spread of
your life.
You told me,
you can watch me
for hours
spanning the limitless skies of
my mind
and
your mind,
meeting somewhere in the horizons.
You told me,
the sound of my wings
tread the still waters of
your thoughts
and brought them to life.

You told me once,
I looked most beautiful when
the wings of my thoughts
flaps
in wondrous hues of
love and life,
hopes and happiness
to take the flight
and return
into your arms.

Ever since,
you,
sitting safe & warm
only in
memories of the flight,
you once opened my thoughts to.
And me...
my wings
tightly held in your embrace
awaiting
a chance to fly....again,
knowing,
I can always return to
your arms,
my home not prison.

Genesis of your love

I kept turning and twisting.

To find
that comforting bump
in the feathery mattress.
I miss your arms.
The hollow of my waist
lies empty.
I miss the way
your arms
lay defenceless, not holding
but held.
A perfect fit.

To find
the softest corner
in the willowy pillow.
I miss your chest.
The hollow of my cheeks
lies empty.
I miss the way
your chest
rose in harmonious breathing
rhythmic to mine,
to cushion the hollows of my cheeks.

To find
the perfect curve
in the ‘other’ pillow.
I miss your back.
The heels of my palms
lay flat
across this plain terrain,
nothing to hold onto
to cling to.
I miss the way
your curves and the moulds
are made
to fill my empty hands
in an effortless embrace.

To find
the missing angles
in the tangles
of my bedsheet.
I miss your legs.
My legs fighting in vain
trying to fit
one on another.
No matter,
it cannot have the same angles
as your legs.

I kept twisting and turning
in the dark consuming night.
My body
among pillows, mattress and bedsheet
and yet alone.
Missing, aching for yours.

But all the pain
this missing has to offer,
my body will willingly suffer.
If only,
at the break of the dawn,
when I flicker
my lashes to clear
the hazy morning blur,
to find myself gazing in
your eyes.
The genesis of all the love
your body silently offers.

I dream because

Every wish that is denied
calls my heart to skip a beat.

In my beautiful world of dreams,
where every minute detail
is as pure as a puff of white cloud and the shining rays of sun,
Where the perfection is everyday affair
Where I’m not afraid to wish more,
because they are not denied in the wake of reality

Because people in my dreams
are flawless
They know how to love, how to care and how to express.
‘coz people in my dreams
are never bothered by ‘others’
since none exists except for those whom I love and those who love me.
‘coz this cycle of wishing more
and being fulfilled,
of loving more
and being loved in response,
is never broken by the lapse of time.
‘coz in my dreams
my heart never skips a beat.

Today, I wished
and my heart skipped a beat once more.
Tonight, I’ll sleep again,
To find my heart beating
when I’ll wake up
tomorrow.