All posts by vasujain

Where Desires Come to an End

On clear monsoon mornings
When clouds retreat
Without a warning

And the exploring sunrays
Burst open the tree-cover
Finding a way

As this crisp hour becomes gold
And the sky suddenly pours
All it was trying to hold

Rolling out a night all spent
Where the peeking moon
Says hi with jasmine’s scent

This is where all my desires come to an end

Grapefruit slice atop a pile of other slices

At the Altar – Part 2

Her eyes are still open
Her head is hung low
Blood trickles along her eyebrow
While her eyes adjust to the blow.

His arms rise again,
Towards the speechless sky.
Plunging ahead with the axe,
He gives out a loud cry.

Through her numb,
Heavy head,
She wonders –
If she is already dead.

Satisfied, he leans against the altar,
To give his heart some rest.
And drops of his sweat fall into her tears,
Within the same bloody mess.

At the Altar

At the altar of love,
She offers herself.
He drops an axe,
Over her head.

The drop came –
Without a blink.
Did he even
Stop to think?

A shock to the body
A gap on the skin
A gush of blood
The slit bursting at its rim

The axe moves in deeper,
Not yet done with the body’s keeper.

And as he chopped he sang,
Hymns of a love so great –
That even the pieces of flesh that fell,
Clapped with thunder when they hit the plate.

Two Souls

Two Souls

Two souls from above
Peeped from behind the clouds
Captivated by the Earth, descend below
For adventures yet to be found

They go to live separate lives

Years later, at her front door
His voice gives a soft knock
Her disbelieving ears jump with joy
As with this divine music they begin to unlock

While his feet caress the awakening ground
And tell it to hush,
Roses and lilies wake up wildly
And redden with a deep blush.

She poured out to him everything

She asks him sheepishly
“I know not
Which part is fact, and which, fiction”

He says
“Only the truth in the moment
And the rest is fabricated from conviction”

“Why are we here?”
“Perhaps to experience this Earth.
Or perhaps to un-trap other familiar souls,
Only reachable through this mortal birth”

Inevitably we find ourselves here
In flesh and bone
Getting pulled and pushed in a world,
Feeling so alone

“If you have found the truth
You must help others feel it in their hearts”
“Maybe. But they hold desires
That need fulfilling before they depart”

“Okay, but tell me before you leave…
That love is a rumour
Tell me it cannot be found
Tell me it is all said in humour.

I meet all kinds of people
And hear the stories that they weave
But I don’t know which version is real
Can you tell me which one to believe?

This love is killing me slowly

If it is a fable
I can forget it with ease
Because I am being mocked
With this silly tease

If it is a lie
I can shrug it off now
But no one would tell me
Will you?” She bows.

He smiles. No answer.

Epilogue:

They have each other
In an endless embrace
Perhaps not on the Earth,
But in the infinite space

Imposter in the Temple

Confident feet halt at the door
Whisper to the lucky Earth under
Was it really us that they chose
To witness such a wonder?

My storming heart
Pulls in its wings raging with latitude
Its wildness folds in on itself
As it kneels forward in gratitude

The feet,
They are yet to enter
Doubting themselves in the old world
Their human self in an internal welter

They stand hesitant,
At the entrance stairs
Exchanging concealed notes
Between their own pair

Even whilst the heart
Flutters with a thirst to know more
It glistens with the beauty of the moment
Letting go of the doubts it wore

The sun rays smile
As they nibble and nudge the back
They kiss the awakening skin
Helping the muscles within unpack

I step inside, just at the edge
Back against the boundary wall,
I begin to trace the periphery.
Slowly, sliding along.

Greedy eyes cannot resist
They look above, overfilled with the sight
Glued trembling lips –
Hold back the expression of delight

The magnanimous temple –
In a moment it brought out my internal thief
And in the next moment
It purged it all, putting the imposter at ease.

Black Coffee: A Love Story

Water stood with ease
Within the clear jar.
The ground coffee sat in its box
Not too far.

Water’s jar now uncapped
It is exposed, yet calm.
Whilst the coffee fresh and earthy
Pours confidently onto your palm.

Water shivers
Tries to hold on to its home
As it’s poured out mercilessly
Into the brewing dome.

Coffee, damn
She is an adventurous lass,
Jumps in to the machine
With all her sass.

With a jolt things move
The water is given a sign,
No time left to ponder
It moves ahead with time.

Drop by drop
With the cosy coffee it brews.
Together, they each lose their form
And become something new.

Both lost their original shape
True bonding meant losing self
As they lost themselves and held to the other,
They got a place of pride on every shelf.

Where this will lead
Water and beans cannot surmise.
On the vessels that they will embark,
Adventures un-tasted are about to arise.

The Princess of the Glass Castle

Part I
The princess of the glass castle wore a white dress,
Walked on stairs of glass and sat on a crystal mess.

Her dress shimmered of the silver and the stars.
The light in her eyes – anything but a farce.


Part II
I am scared my heel may scratch the floor;
When I walk, I am worried my dress might smash the door.

I can’t be natural, I can’t be free –
This castle is so staunch, I don’t think it feels me.

Everyone comes here to gape at it, majestic and tall,
Yet my words are barely a whisper, lest they scar the wall.
I can barely dance, every step is preceded by fear,
If I move too fast will I lose this castle, which I hold dear?


Part III
When she brushed a tear off of her eye,
There appeared a black mark under the perfectly blue sky.

She wore a fluid black and danced a spell of lust,
And the floor melted while the castle burned to dust.

Two opposite pendulums

That time they swung away with full force
Confident as they moved along their course
Did not turn back
Displayed no sign of remorse.

Another time forced to swing away and
Each holding out an outstretched hand
Only wanting to return
To what has seemed like home land.

They reach a stable height
And nature decides again to use its might
Makes them swing back to the centre
This time, as always, they meet in delight.

Time is passing
They will be at the centre only for a while
Will they decide to hold on
Or swing away leaving this thing divine?

A Selfish Love

January 2018

“I think you are pretty
I think you are bold”
“Wait, hang on”
– I smile and put you on hold.

Why?

If you come closer
You will figure it out
That I am a tad bit
Too proud.

And

Its comforting
To see you smitten, dear
Have someone to turn to
When I feel that fear.

So

When you dial my number
And I put you on hold
I need you due to my fears
Otherwise I am just cold.

NOTE: Sometimes people ask me if a particular piece that I have written is a narration of events from my own life. It is inspired from something real – but that inspiration could very well be just a fleeting image or emotion or intuition that I have noticed and by way of writing have tried to explore it.

Ode to a lizard – Part 2

Ode to a Lizard – Part 2
or
Lizard on the floor

Me:
Lizard, lizard on the floor,
It’s summer – Don’t tell me you are here to carry on your ancestors’ lore?

Lizard (of the new generation):
Certainly I am.

Like every wanna-be powerful,
And otherwise frowned upon clan,
I carry forth the name of mine.
I have a global-domination plan.

Yes, you had spotted me
While I was stealthily sliding
Outside your room and I must say
You had shrieked in a manner unspeakably whiny.

Destiny had already whispered to you
Despite your efforts I would
Eventually land in your room
Closed doors won’t deter me, actually nothing could.

So when you entered your room today,
And saw me perched on the wall,
You shouldn’t display so much shock,
Haven’t you yet figured that I have our famous “Lizard’s gall”?

And guess what, I am one of the adventurous Generation Z!
I have the most unpredictable behaviour.
Unlike my predecessors, I don’t fear humans,
Now you definitely need a saviour.

I am so tiny and quick
You have never met any of my kind
I will trick your eyes
And incessantly creep across your mind.

Ode to a lizard

Ode to a lizard
OR
Lizard on the wall

Me:
Lizard lizard on the wall!
Whose the bravest of them all?

Lizard:
It is you, my dear.
You have always looked at me with fear

Since the first day
When you opened the room’s door
A shiver went down your spine
Creeping you out to your core.

The sight of me
Perched on your wall
Scared the living daylights out of you
Sent you running to the hall.

1 week later
Your legs they still shake but you stand tall
Undeterred and calm
Revising your strategy while still in the hall.

And finally,
When you open the door
Your eyes first scan the room
Inch-by-inch, from roof to floor.

1 month later
I am getting more comfortable in your room.
You think perhaps if you wait
You would be rescued by my eventual doom.

2 months later
I grin at you from near your bed
And since you don’t kill animals,
You clench your teeth and wait for my death.

3 months later
I am still alive
So you decide to take help of google
And with shock you realize
That sneaky lizards like me
Tend to live a long life.

So nature is not on your side, and you wonder:
“To kill, or not to kill?”,
Meanwhile I laugh at you from the wall,
Testing your will.

4 months later
You have given up waiting for it to end
Sometimes you are frankly curious about me
Wondering how I live without any friends.

So subconsciously you leave the door open
Walk away with a frowned pate
Those days you return to see the result of your kind act
If I have managed to get a date.

Initially you feel happy
But when I wink at you with my friend
You wonder if we might have kids
“And OMG – this story will never end!”.

Finally now it is winter
So we don’t see each other anymore
But summer is around the corner
Which is why I smirk while I snore.

So when you ask
“whose the bravest of them all”
I say it is you,
Facing your fears all along.

Ouroboros

I looked her in the eye
And told her to slowly die.

Asked her stiffened branches
To drop with a jilt,
Onto the over-exposed leaves
That dry and wilt.

She stands there stubborn,
Not ready to go;
I take an axe
And it hits her with a blow.

She staggers,
But stays upright,
Proud of her withering bark,
Where rough winds made her uptight.

She is not routine.
When she braved the storms,
Her branches danced,
Her leaves smiled with warmth.
Then a touch would have comforted her.
Now there is nothing to be saved from falling apart.

I light a match
And gently bring it to where she has dried.
I put her to peace,
So that the land can again be free and wide.

I ready saplings for fresh plantation.
It will grow stronger on manure –
Which is built from benevolent leftovers
Of the previous residents’ endure.

Half Story

Maybe the stories are only half true
So the only way to have the truth you want
Is to imagine it through

Maybe there is no way to clean the floor
It is a permanent scratch on the door
– (one you can’t ignore) –
Surprise surprise – always an unfinished chore

Invented-to-sell vitality
Imperfect reality
Non sensible even in totality

No true story of love
No caring dove
Only illusion of someone above

What not to do to Wounds

Tip One: Don’t wound people
Of the many wounds a person could get
The worst are from those one wouldn’t forget.
These wounds have an unusually long life,
Being tied to friendships that have memories running rife.

Tip Two: Don’t hurry in with wrong cures
Imagine the case of a wound slender and deep
And an eager friend
Covering it with random ointments’ heap;
Surface actions will provide temporary relief –
And wounds will re-surface once the hardened surfaces peal.

Tip Three: Don’t take shortcuts
You can heal only things that you understand
Your shortcuts may delay the touch of the right hand.

Tip Four: Don’t be late
Come back to heal in time –
If one has inflicted wounds that charred,
And they come back late
They will just witness scars.

In a moment of guilt visitors may tear them open
And be over-whelmed and run again afar.
Leaving wounds worse and bleeding,
They have only come and marred.

Tip Five: The ideal healer
To assist in healing,
One must sit down on their knees with bandage
Keeping a persistent watch,
On all that they damaged.
The best ones stay through and make things right
They stand by their friends in this fight.

Looking for a star

2007-2008

The star at which I stared
And wondered how it stayed so –
So constant, so bright
And thus derived inspiration when low,

That ever-shining ray of hope
The eternal supervisor of my life
Has now fallen across my thoughts
And life’s weary strife
Has forced it to consume itself.

A brighter day, a higher morrow
When the sun would stay at the horizon and blink
It would thus overfill me with its glorifying light
And into its depth I’d let myself sink.

I’d know then that the star had done it’s job
And had hugged its fate letting mine free.
My strength would yet behold me on my voyage.
But for the ship, the sea, the destination, in their entirety for me.

Notes: The poem is about an experience that brought into focus the harsh reality in which the speaker stood dejected by his own worshipped idea. The ideal image had failed to inspire and/or help the speaker who was thus at a sudden loss of what was to come. The totality of his existence, being, thoughts, work, and actions – had been diminished to nil.
But to hold the speaker in such a metaphorically darkened phase of life, comes forward yet another force of nature and infuses in him faith and belief for Nature’s plan. The plan, which the speaker now realizes, is none. The aim of life is to go on your own, self-willed voyage, with the forces of nature nudging you forward. They cannot make you see, but can give the power of vision.
We are thus equipped and must seek our own dreams, independent of any outside force. Although at some point we may feel all alone, light follows the darkness and clear soft skies the cold insensitive mists to show that happiness and sadness are momentary and as in nature, our lives are a true balance of love and friendship, hope and despair, dreams fulfilled and unfulfilled – and through all the complexities of life, a simple, clear guiding light constantly falls on us.