Somehow I am stuck here at your gates
Unsure whether to enter, or just digress
Insecure in myself, as I’m at your door
And you are just a master of disguises
Somewhere, twisted, are our fates
Impure with each other’s faithfulness
Uncured of an illness from another center
And me a mere mortal awaiting demise.
Ode to Optics and Particle Physics
Maybe tomorrow these so called tree-lovers
May not show any hesitation
before burning seeds with laser;
Let all rotten science too die –
And from them, let take birth
Built upon newer levels of understanding
With neutrinos, manifold dimensions of spacetime
Instructing mathematical strings overflowing
From forty two vessels in their clinging,
In chirps, rotation and lunacy, let that be
For now the direction and magnitude of this photon.
Have You Enough Room
The room is made of six chess-boards
Each forming walls,
Left, right, front, back, down, up, inside, outside
There are eight instead of six
The last two you cannot see;
Inside is past and outside is future
So you are going from inside to outside
Or if you have read and thought about
Many of Heidegger’s interpretations of Nietzsche,
You can believe it is vice-versa
Living from outside to inside.
So if you are sure
Of not going through any objective transformations
Or if you have not started understanding it now
Then you can treat all this and
The room as a particle in the box.
Remember, you are not a cat;
Also, you are not inside a cage.
The one hundred and ninety-two pieces,
Thirty-two each from each board,
Have all fought with themselves and gone out
Some even started fighting
With the others on another board
They all knew nothing
Of what they are fighting for.
Three white kings, two black rooks, a black queen,
Twenty-three white pawns, five black knights, and
A black or white bishop were arguing
About why you think you were unsuccessful
In your previous assignment
Or past relationship; choose the one
That you think you failed in.
Now do you want to come out of the room?
Wait until when you start realizing that
You are also a piece, either black or white
And after realization go looking for someone
With the other colour and attack them;
That is your last chance to escape,
To come out of the room.
Opportunities of Globalisation
The spider was inviting its prey
To play tennis
In place of the live telecast
Let’s have some commercials
Or coffins on discount.
When you daydream about a carnival
Walking hand-in-hand with your lover
Surrealism kicks in a ball
Let’s go visit that museum
Exhibiting abstract art
Or minimalist music
Or to a ball-game with the moon.
Eating soup with a silver spoon
Failing to realise the onset of –
Dinner table is dirtied
Let’s ring up a dentist and discuss
The inflation of fuel
Or farmer suicides
Or an old rotten tomato.
Tree in Flames
The tree is in flames, there
Through the open window
Fast tracks can be slow
When you are in a hurry
To install headphones on deaf ears.
Mountains wearing blue
Mourning the lost season
Morning of a silent spring
When the violets whisper
About violence all day long.
Through the window
The tree is lit up in yellow
Leaves of last year fallen
Forgotten with the wind
That blew outside all night.
A canvas bathed in darkness
Like a blind dream sequence
Wrinkled sky and whistles
Coming from a nowhere land
Inhabited by invalids.
Ultimate Truth is a Big Lie
Living this life is true deception
Cheating one’s soul till that moment
When the last breath nears to reveal itself;
Hiding the truth of death until then;
What else is this if not self-deception.
Yesterday a crow gave birth to a poem,
An enemy of mine came to meet me.
I told him that I am someone else
Since he had never seen me before.
He went away; I was telling the truth.
A friend will come to advise me
Tomorrow when foxes roam in daylight.
I will tell him that I am someone else
Since he has known me all my life.
He will stay; I will be called a liar.
Why are so many worms of guilt
Eating the inside of my head?
This will leave me with no face
Under my clown-mask.
They ate up both of my eyes
Long ago, during last winter;
I was totally blind for a year.
I should be thankful.
My ears can only receive thunder
But nobody has been singing
Any sweet melodies for years.
Deafness can be a remedy.
They cannot eat the two tunnels
As they are inhabited by fungi
Which are bitter and poisonous;
My nose will be excluded.
Before they bite my broken lips
And embrace my still tongue,
Scratch between my fragile teeth,
I wish for a kiss of universal love.
Gathered Stones Speak Again
Mist lingers around again
Even in this late afternoon,
A thin veil over the face
To hide guilt and insanity.
Frequenting these ghettos
With dejection’s lampposts,
Searching for the apologies,
Listening to one’s own footsteps.
Most painful are not words -
But hard stones of silence.
One particular stone from there
Caused a deep mortal wound.
As the best place to hide a leaf
Is in a forest, I decided to throw
That stone back to the dead earth
But then, earth started to bleed.
I See an End on the Road
Roads after the rain formed mirrors
But travelers moved too fast
To put their reflections in them.
There weren’t any trees by the roadside
For a mirror’s reflection either.
So I sat down by the road and looked
At my face in its shine –
Partly out of sympathy for the mirror,
Also to see the frown on my face.
Then a truck that most loved a fast pace
Skidded on the slippery road and hit me;
I am sure I saw no fear on my face
In the reflection, just before I died.
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