Showing posts with label pic-poem. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pic-poem. Show all posts

February 6, 2012

The river and the lovers



the river flowed in a torrent
gushing forth in the rains
breaking down banks and
tearing down everything in its path

but somewhere downstream
it met a boy
sitting alone on the bank
while the river cut it from under him
forlorn, with a faraway look
in his empty glassy eyes

the river felt sorry for him
it called out to him
to run to the safety
of the hinterland
but the boy replied:
i'm waiting for her
she said she would meet me here
and i won't miss that chance
river or no river

the river was taken aback
and decided to leave him
to whatever fate had for him
but what does it see
there, on the other bank
is a girl sitting alone
with the same faraway look
and the same glassy eyes

it asked her to leave
and she gave the same reply
i'm waiting for him
and i wouldn't miss it for anything
now this had the river foxed
there they were, the two of them
waiting for each other
but doing nothing to meet
the river couldn't take it
and asked why they chose to do so

and they said:
we can't meet
not until a river flows between us
a river of hate, doubt and mistrust
a torrent of emotions
transient emotions
we know we'll swept away
if we tried to cross now

we are waiting for time
till the river slows down
waiting for the emotions
to turn into feelings
and thereafter into anchors
so that we have something to hold onto
coz the doubts won't all go away
the river will keep on flowing

we are waiting
to build the bridge of love.

-Pic by Basu.

January 22, 2012

tripping back



i stand rooted to the spot
blank and staring into the void
the mind whirling in a cesspool
my finger on rewind


and the hourglass is turned upside down
time trickling backwards
the sand making it back to my fists
i hold tight once again


the past is once again with me
a brick of a dead weight
hard and unyielding and stupid and stubborn
happy and hurting at the same time


it's like holding a thorny rose
soft petals and bloody pricks
red of the rose, red of the blood
difficult to distinguish the two


i stand rooted to the spot
blank and staring into the void
holding a heavy past in the mind
hearing and seeing and breathing the now


and i choose to let go
i've been there and done that
all the good things and the bad
but there's a lot left to do


i'll be my past
and it will stay with me
but at the end of it all
i'll just be me

January 8, 2012

the invisible yesterdays



trudging through a forest of people
we wade through a sea of faces
all the people we've met
all the people we've been

the people who talked in awkward pauses
and the people who chattered endlessly
the people who fought so hard they cried
and the people who laughed after every fight
the people who stole nervous glance at each other
and the people who couldn't stop staring
the people who loved each other
and the people who loved some more

but now they are all strangers
in a world of sepia yesterdays

we are what we are today
two lovers holding hands together

Pic by Basu.



November 30, 2011

lost and found




all the lost prayers
where do they go
filed somewhere
as a record
of rejected applications?

gathering dust
faded with age
there's a prayer
long lost
no hope fueling it
making it soar
what's a butterfly
without its wings

i think the heart
it holds them
close to itself
long after the brain
abandons them

and when we die
it's not old age
that kills us
but it's just
the heart filling up
of these prayers
long lost and dead

-------

Pic by Basu. It's the opposite to all that this poem is about. It's hope. For all prayers.

November 21, 2011

The bubble burst



he sits there
tear-streaked cheeks
bleary eyed
staring at the place
where the white of the bedsheet
meets the white of the walls

voices have kept him awake
a strange cacophony
lulling him to sleep
only to snatch him from
the edge of the land of dreams

long has he sat and moped
blurring the lines between
words that were actually uttered
and ones he conjured up himself
his is a state of eerie nightmares
that stay for the day

she was here yesterday
and she's gone now
a strand of hair
on a tear-soaked pillow
is all that remains

he should remember
all the fights they had
and yet he remembers
the smile she smiled
and the tears she cried

it's morning now and
the light creeps up to him
touching his toes
he looks on, startled
straining to remember
the night that has been

-------------------
Photo by Basu. Those are my hands in the pic :). Had to burst about 20 of them before he got the perfect shot.

November 18, 2011

कितने दूर, कितने पास

 
 
 
We were too busy
In our I's
The 'us' that could be
Would never be seen
With closed eyes

Each one standing
With an outstretched arm
Hoping the other
Would take the first step
And so here we are
Standing orphaned
On our islands

And there are the words
Useless ones we threw around
All the beautiful ones
We threw away
An ugly beautiful cacophony
That now flows between us

So we stand here
A mere shout away
With dried up voices...
 
-------------------
 
Photo by Basu. It is the opposite of all that this poem talks of. And yet it somehow fits :)

October 22, 2011

water and she



she comes in
after a shower
shakes her head
and the droplets fly
bends her neck
and towels her hair
and i see the drops
leaving her hair



it's raining
she has a paper boat
she takes care
while letting it go
in the stream
takes care
not to touch the water
but she's all wet
in the rain


she sits by the river
her feet in the water
and talks to me
a calmness takes her over
maybe the water
drains all the anxieties away




she splashes water
onto her face
and it's hid behind
tiny rivulets
but they run off
and she opens her eyes
her eyelashes are wet
she looks at me
and i know
i have the world



it's raining
and she puts her hand
out of the window
closes her eyes and lets
the raindrops falling on her palm
be the only sensation
and i look at
serenity personified


her eyes are brimming
but i forbid her to cry
she's allowed
just one drop
it rolls down her cheek
and i hold it in my palm
all the sea
wouldn't have felt heavier

ps: 1, 2  and 4 are common scenes
3 is from swades
5 is from the song boondon se baatein
6 is from spanglish


-Pic is by Basu. I thought the silhouettes of their hands formed a nice small house.

September 30, 2011

catch-22



जब से तुम गए हो, ये शहर
कुछ अनजाना अधूरा सा लगता है
पर इसे छोड़ कर जो जाना चाहूं
पैरों में कुछ बंधा जकड़ा सा लगता है
कि तुम्हारी यादें न हो तो कहीं
मन कुछ सूना खाली सा लगता है  
तुम्हे सोच सकूं जिसकी गलियों में
वो शहर जाना पहचाना अपना सा लगता है 

Image by Basu. Part of an experiment he did with incense smoke.

August 9, 2011

tea-off!



तारों की छलनी से
रात का अँधेरा छान
सूरज ने सुबह की
गरमागरम चाय परोसी है

अब नींद के चक्कर में
आप आँखें मीचे रह गए
और चाय ठंडी हो जाये
तो सूरज थोड़े ही दोषी है!

Photo by Basu.


August 2, 2011

talkative :)



वो कहते हैं
अभी कुछ कहना मुमकिन नहीं
अभी हमें कहते सुनते दिन ही कितने हुए
हम क्या कहें
कि कही हुई बातें क्यूँ गिनते हो
अनकही भी तो रही है ढेर सारी

कि कहने को तो कुछ पल ही हैं
पर हर कही बात में
जाने कब तक कहने का वादा भी तो है

Pic by Basu. Taken at the Delhi zoo. I had captioned it as "Height of Love" :D

July 25, 2011

Sense of Silence



can you see it?
the void of silence.
the eyes conjuring up
all the words you spoke
and your lips quivering on
some of the unsaid ones

can you feel it?
the clutch of silence.
overpowering, suffocating
forcing you to blurt out
and stopping them words
in a stranglehold

can you smell it?
the stench of silence.
wearing you with
a dementor-like demeanour
decaying words and thoughts
dead and living on

can you taste it?
the bitterness of silence.
shorn of the happy shimmer
life trundling along
lips smacking as they remember
the sweetness of words

can you hear it?
the sound of silence.
a deafening drone
drowning you down
the ears yearning to hear you
utter some words

Pic is by Basu. Taken at Lansdowne.

July 17, 2011

stuck-in-a-second



I look at you, girl
standing there, moonlight-lit
some stars peeking through your hair
you haven't braided it today
the way i've always loved it
i remember telling you about it
and i'm glad you remembered

there you stand, and i close my eyes
look inside for what i had wished you'd be
your hand meets mine, in a weird symmetry
the images match and i realise
i've known you all my life
a long time for someone who felt alive just now

i want to stare and i don't
i know what i'll see and still i want
my eyes are squeezed shut
i'm afraid you could disappear
with startling suddenness

all that has to be said, has already been
in the hesitating way our fingers touched
in the way i looked at my once-loved stars
and then quickly looked back at you
and in our fidgetiness and eagerness
but there are stories to be told
and lives to be synched

what are we waiting for
standing here with this distance between us
i don't know
maybe time doesn't matter
not now
especially now.

- Written on a flight. Sometimes i can be a hopeless romantic [:P]. The pic is by Basu, as always.


May 14, 2011

i-vs-love-vs-me



it's hard to find
where i end
and "we" begin
the ends tie together
the ties end together
it's the sunshine
playing with the shadows
and the shadows
where they were many
are now a porous existence
polka-dotted, grayed

is this love?
or a search for meaning
deep within myself?

----------

i tried to imagine
what i would be
if i weren't you
i would be me
but then again,
who am i?
----------

तुम्हे चाहते हैं हम इतना
कि दूर रहने की सोच
घबरा सा जाते हैं
पर कैसे कहें कि
खुद को खो कर
तुम्हारी इन राहों पे
हाथ थामे चलते
रुक से जाते हैं

-image is by Basu.

April 10, 2011

बातूनी बातें


तुम गए तो क्या हुआ
अब भी बातें करते हैं हम
अधूरे किस्सों को पूरा करते
तुमसे मिला करते हैं हम

पर ऐसे बातें करो तो
यादों पे शक होता है
कि जिनको गले लगाये बैठे हैं
वो मन का भरम तो नहीं हैं कहीं

अधूरे किस्से शायद
कभी शुरू ही ना हुए हों
तुमने कुछ कहा भी ना होगा
और हमने सब सुन लिया होगा

पर क्या करें, तुम संग बातें
तो कुछ और ही होती थीं
मिल पाते थे खुद से कहीं
वो रातें कुछ और ही होती थीं

सच हों या हो झूठ
बातों पे हमारा कोई बस नहीं
होती हैं तुमसे और होती रहेंगी
तुम यहाँ रहो या नहीं

तुम तो चले गए
अब बातों से ही यारी है
आदत ये हमारी
तुमने ही बिगाड़ी है


April 2, 2011

spring-cleaning

the brain is not an infinite dustbin
i have some spring-cleaning to do
memories that have taken root
grown into a labyrinth i get lost in

there's a carton of dusty photographs
grainy with specks of time
and there are some footprints
times when i stood my ground
stubborn, sometimes foolishly so

sepia-toned words and sentences
tomes i've guarded against time
laced with smiles and tears
people long gone, living in these words
still speaking to me

and the mind, i know
isn't ready to give up any of this
so the broom-work will be more of
wrestling and pushing and fighting
and explaining and cajoling

but the labyrinth is
holding me back
there are new memories to be made
new pictures to be taken
more smiles and tears

and i can't
just stay HERE

Photo by Basu.

February 6, 2011

:)


there was a time
when i was jealous
of your wings
how you could soar so high
and leave the weary earth

but now i know
you don't have to have wings
to fly high in my sky

Photo by Basu.


being one :)


अँधेरे की चादर में
उजली सी सिलवटें हैं
मेरी नींदों में कुछ
तेरी करवटें हैं

शाखों से गिरे
मेरे पत्तों की हरियाली से
तुम्हारी धूसर सुबहें
मटियामेट हो जाती हैं
कुछ तुम संग हम
धूमिल हो जाते हैं
कुछ हमारे संग तुम
खिल उठते हो

चलें तो तुम
पैरों को जकड़े रहते हो
रुकें तो तुम
कानों में कुछ कहते हो

अब इस से ज्यादा क्या कहें
सुबह उठते हैं हम
तो सूरज से पहले
तुम्हे खोजा करते हैं

photo by Crazy.


December 14, 2010

incoherent rambling

some stupid waves came
and swept away my sand-castle
and as i picked up
the last remains of my creation
i could not help but wonder
should i stop building altogether?

the waves, they'd always be there
waiting just beyond the shore
watching me build the castle
nimble-footed for the kill
and so i confronted them
asked if i had ever wronged them
and why they couldn't let me
enjoy the fruits of my labor
even for one evanescent moment

and they replied in sad voices
they were bound by an ancient curse
to rise up and then fall down
in one endless excruciating cycle
it hurt them as much
destroying my castle
and so, while retreating, they'd stay
just a second more at my feet
asking for forgiveness

and now i realised
i had been quick to judge
putting my pain
above everyone else's

so i stopped
making stupid castles
played with the waves instead
and in place of something
that broke in a second
i got something special
a friend for life

photo by Basu. More of the same beautiful stuff can be seen here. even i can't make any sense out of what i've written here :P

December 5, 2009

wide-eyed



अजनबी आंखों में
कोई अपना सा दिखा था
मेरे सपनों का शहर
कहीं और भी दिखा था

घूरती आंखों की भीड़ में
कुछ अपनापन मिला था
कुछ जाना पहचाना सा
रेगिस्तान में ठिकाना मिला था

पर कुछ कह पाती मेरी आँखें
इस से पहले वो आँखें मुड़ गईं
मैंने तो सुनहरा सफर देखा
पर राहें कहीं और मुड़ गईं

कुछ देर ठहरा रहा मैं वहीँ
मन में कुछ सोचता रहा
घूरती आंखों की भीड़ में
वो प्यारी आँखें खोजता रहा

फ़िर एक भूली बिसरी याद
कुछ कंपा कर चली गई
जिनसे मिला था अभी मैं
वो आँखें देखीं थी मैंने पहले भी

पर इस अजनबी भीड़ में
अब वो भी अजनबी ही हैं
भीड़ वाली आंखों की तरह
वो भी बस घूरती ही हैं

तुम्हारी आंखों में कभी
मैंने ख़ुद को देखा था
जोड़ कुछ कच्चे धागे सोचा
अब अजनबी नही रहे
तुम से ख़ुद के मायने
ढूंढता मैं रह गया यहीं
अब जो तुम यहाँ नही
मैं भी मैं नही
----------------

inspired by this poem [which is much better than this one]. and the title song of socha na tha. photo by basu. i had named it 'look in my eyes'. hence its appearance in this post. ]

December 4, 2009

wanton wants


the lovely walk. and the desire to run.
the reassuring earth. and the desire for the blue sky.
the lovely embrace. and the desire to break free.
the freedom of solitude. and the desire for love.
the suffocation. and the desire for some air.
the empty arms. and the desire for something for the void.
the happiness around. and the desire to shed a tear.
the tears within. and the desire to paste a smile.
the words. and the desire for some meaning.
the truth. and the desire that it didn't mean that.
the baggage. and the desire it was lighter.
the journey ahead. and the desire that nothing was left behind.
the memories. and the desire for a clean slate.
the forgotten flashes. and the desire to hold on.
the black and white. and the desire for color.
the tired eyes. and the desire for a plainer world.

wings. and the burden on the shoulders.
wings. and the desire to fly.

I. and I.

[added after rohit's comment: the photo i ripped from some random blog i reached through some other random blog. and i forgot which one. a google image search with the file name gives five results. and i still don't remember which one it was :P]