My waves

I stand still like I am born to freeze
In every breath, my every pulse
Motionless me, yet restless me
You come to kiss every time
And vanish just in a blink

That you come every time, cant lose hope
And go every time, can't keep hope
You reply with a question, can't stay quiet
And question with an answer, forced to mute

Rooted to ground in your residue
Losing the anchor to your troughs
Yet standing firm in uncertain default

What's left of me is this show
Greetings ephemeral, farewells transient

You drift near my lifeline, born to Rove

Multitude

Make my way through tea acres, do I become tea
The road brews me, do I become liquor
Slide down the mountains, am I a river now
Scale the hills. kite, am I
Rub through the woods. wood, do I turn into
Freeze into elements, snow my ego?
Lose sense of time, timeless rock am I?
Strangers accept me, strange am I?
Float on the river, grass straw I look like?
Kiss the sea on the beach. coast, I should be
Meet the deity at his home, spiritual spirit mine?
Suspend in air as clouds, massless my pride
Wait for the Sun to shine that peak, hopeful me
A day before, I was just one
Today, I am all this and more

Sikkimsome

Sikkim surface, I come to feel 
As sky and earth meet on my skin
Stars below me, above me, all around
Powered by water pouring from heaven
Star myself in this prized company

A bit of cloud in my palm, as I grasp
And a pinch of snow as I kiss
Iciness sucks out my sense
Yet feel the expanse, unending
In my breath, in my consciousness

You mounty - tall, vast, endearing
We climb like creepers encircling
Feet by feet, step by step, roll by roll
And a new regard, every moment
To leap into the clouds from the clouds

Lord

With curiosity, I come to see you
And a prayer just in case
With some information to fall back
And a theory to confirm.
With fondness for your lore
And a duty passed on to me
Hiding my respect
And contempt for Lord of life
I seek you to vivify my themes


I go back knowing the drama
Your lordship and your friends
My prayer uttered, but can't be heard
Theory affirmed, questions orphaned
I see your issues and our issues
In colours my own, on your canvas
I feel for you my lord, as I return
Promise mine, we will together find
That joy to be free, to be away

Varanasi

A shore for myself to commit my sins
And a pail of river that covers them white
A moving crowd to poke my conscience
And a priestly figure who patches those pricks

A floating piece to survey the treatments
And a rising Sun that cures my darkness
A singing man soothing my knowledge
And a working cow that lingers my moves

A reining diety to share my wishes
And a queue of people telling their stories
Strength in my veins and wisdom in my sight
In one short visit, tryst with my river

Mandatory break

Making a move. Nay, made to move
There is a moment waiting in the way
To test my silence and tease my presence
To tell me it's the end and pushing me again

Breaking a routine. Nay, made to break
There is a glue waiting to let loose
To fasten it all and hold my comfort
To tell me it's still the same and avoiding again

Building a momentum. Nay, poking inertia
There is a mass running with me
To rest the movement and please passivity
To tell me the fun of giving it up and gaining again

Spending the time. Nay, made to spend
There is a clock waiting to halt
To measure the value before it's lost
To tell me things held in time and held in mind

Counting the days

I happen to count, not the numbers
Not the stars, not the blinks
But the days that die begetting nothing
And those that go pushing the pain
Few which pull back but go for sure
Days that pass away as their elder siblings
And some grow unique but break down usual

Why do I count? The birth, the death
And play the waves of wealth and loss
Since I can count, I should
On each of the counted days is my mark
And those not counted, exit unknown
Scarring a day makes it fruitful
Makes a memory, lesson for another day

And a day that succumbs uncounted
Also is my day where I did not live
My lifeless ticks turn it barren
But makes a way anyhow
Piles, void-rocks into nothing hill
The peaks of this rise mock. but hold
The dark ink that makes my mark