I wish a happy new year to all my readers. This is written more to see the last year off than to welcome the next. I wonder what else is going to change except the last digit of the year from 5 to 6.
Dedicated to Kunal Thakore,
for his inspirations and poetry
Is it another year
or the old calendar
or another assortment of faces,
piercing through the shield of my heart
that made me fall upon
the thorns of life and bleed?
Did it have just twelve months or a few more?
Never bled so much in my life, before!
Never thought an old man like me
could harbor so much blood inside!
Twelve months back it began
with a sour string that stung like a curved hook,
as I tried to swim across the ocean
of existence, in wild tumult!
But the shore that I saw
was but a mirage, a false hope!
So the land vanished and the string
tore apart my flesh, blood and skin!
I was seething with a rage that almost
made me lose my life too!
Still I rose and stood up
on my broken feet and bones,
spread my broken wings to embrace
the looming second half!
When it came, it turned out to be
no less cruel than the first,
too shallow and selfish,
too engrossed in its looks and whims!
Thus the year traversed until the last month,
when Polaris began
shining bright on the sky,
letting me steer my way back home,
yet still I bleed, not from the pain
but for being what I am!
So I embrace myself and urge the year to come,
for that is our lot for sure, we poets have to burn!
As the words flowed through ether and kissed my eardrums,
a jolt of ecstasy shot through my brain,
as if a lightning bolt of pure delight has come
and struck my core, has driven me insane
and torn me into a million pieces of liquid joy,
like Menelaus had felt in the ruthless burning of Troy!
Each droplets made a ripple into my lungs,
that mounted the blood cells and flowed through my arteries,
to every ups and downs of my existence
that soothed and warmed my core then returned through the veins,
to be replenished back inside my heart again,
for the next spark to take control, too incessant,
it went on and on, like an infinite orgasm
and I rode it over the oceans, hills and plains!
As the morning sun seeped through the window
in rich profusions of bright red and gold,
for a while I thought it was you, I craved
but the warmth was not even half as sweet!
Then I recalled the night that went to sleep,
a while ago and how you rendered it
dreamlike with an invasion that made Love
raise its hands in a willful submission!
Both my limbs and my soul are still imbued with
that sweetness, still rippling through my purple veins!
I rose and threw open my windows wide
in an act of wild ecstasy, again!
Then just as the sun began its arched stroll,
it dawned upon me, you are sweeter than my sweetest fall!
The other day as I rode through the sky
on my chariot, drawn by the Pegasus,
I saw the Sun was not glowing as bright
as she glowed when her smile came from the heart!
I reined in the mighty beast beside her
to enquire why had she been feeling down,
the world below must have her light and warmth,
unless she wants them all killed with her frown!
Well she spoke but in whispers, delicate,
so I could hardly discern what was in her mind,
nor could I diagnose her mind’s current state,
though it’s about Jupiter, that much I realized!
His insolence I knew was so often too much,
so often, in pride, his due orbit he forgot
and claimed to be both the divine king and the church
though being nothing more than just a lump and a knot!
So my darling sun, do keep shining on, alright!
If you are ever blue or down
look at my mirror for once and
behold yourself in the grandeur of your own light!
(The light that keeps them warm!)
(The light that keeps the world alive!)
Can I lay my touch on you, o goddess divine,
as the dewdrops of Autumn drench a vine,
with feather touches, to its core,
though content still not without the craving for more?
I can remember the sweetest of dreams last night,
charming me, when sleep held these eyes
spellbound in awe at the tenderness of your love,
like the Sunshine in Winter days,
a thing, despite all we can never have enough,
even that dream yearned to lay its touch on your face!
So I humbly pledge these words writ in Autumn dew
to fly to you, o dear goddess divine
and touch your face before the Winter Sun
renders them unsung, to make you forever mine!