Free verse and quiet poems — in English and Hindi — on love, longing, loss, and the slow work of healing.
It hides in the hue,
to tell I am not with you;
and it shines anew,
to tell I am not from you.
It seeks the light of another,
to glitter the night for you;
it moves swiftly,
to tell the beloved of love.
It stands till dawn,
to let you sleep in his arms;
it ushers in a new day,
to believe in the existence of you;
it watches all night —
silent, and a sign of you.
You say one thing, and your eyes another —
making me believe it is all lies.
You say something, known to the unknown, I feel;
often it is close to the truth,
but it moves with a sharp turn of reality,
and rises again with the darkness and the night,
and sleeps with a weeping mourn…
Thundering clouds, drowning day and lightning night —
I wonder what is up in the sky.
A feeble sound, chirping birds, trees greener than ever —
I find my mirror in these.
A drifting river, crossing seas, memoirs dissolving along the current —
I put myself in, to forget anything.
Feeding mammals, loving bees, the morning rooster —
I find a shot of words to describe all these.
Over the wire, on top of the roof, on the flooded road —
I find a true likeness of you.
Dense mangrove fields, still life, and a murmuring —
the love of you, and of life.
Today or tomorrow, love or hate —
I find my peace, in you.
Stars hide away, beneath the far dark night;
we look around in a daze, and find a shine all around.
Beyond the bridge lies an angel, smiling, abated;
to reach, to go, far away, where she hides her smile.
Day and night all pass away alike, outshining every pursuit,
to the untravelled path, and the inland depth of the sea.
Someday alone, or accompanied by a cry — but through;
and the morning calls, for treasure, at this time.
It is just a glimpse of life —
the one I love when I close my eyes,
and the one I fear when I open them.
I wish I could take all your pain, and fill that place with happiness.
I wish I could fly you so high, you’d never feel scared of the height.
I wish I could love you so much, you’d never know what hate is.
I wish I could take you so far, no one would know who we are.
I wish I could bring heaven to earth, to show you what you deserve…
I am leaving behind memoirs at every step;
some are known, and loved,
some are helpless, like feathers of cloud,
and bewildered, like my dreams at night,
and lonely, like my day without you.
But I am stepping forward, every day —
lost, and left behind, but stepping, to where I belong…
I recall my life, and reckon it through its flakes;
I have come so far, in an exile of time and its frame.
Not the plain I have come through,
not a bed of roses I have laid upon;
not the shelter and comfort of the beheld and safe,
not fearless of loss, or of weakening dreams,
not loved and cared for, all the way — but
I find a tranquillity when I look back at time.
I step forward, and watch myself run afar,
to reach the end I always admire;
but the trees left behind, the shadow of them —
be they lovers or friends, I hold them still.
And in the nostalgia of time, I whisper my lonely words:
“Wish you were here, to complete this journey.”
And I see her every time
I close my eyes;
I hear someone whispering of love,
I see the bird, and the sky.
I see her every time
I see nature smiling,
a mother caressing her child,
a father holding his daughter.
And I see her every time
it is raining;
I see how the cloud takes over the sky,
I see time clicking away.
And I see her every time —
when I think of love,
when I dream of life,
when I feel myself lucky.
And I see her every time… life.
A face upon a face,
we wear a new one every day;
I cry today,
I laugh today —
contextual, sensual.
But every day, I gain a new face:
I hold my fear,
I behold my thought,
I scare my own life,
I hide my tears,
and wear one upon one,
and say, “life moves on.”
The longer I go and come,
the farther I close off my thought;
but again, on one more night,
I wear another face —
secluded, and scared;
hideous, and gorgeous;
lame, and shamed.
And with the night, I put on my real face.