The Zeal

The stream collected
all the droplets
it's zeal unmatched
rejoiced in the sound
of flow.

Nothing mattered
not even freedom or
reflection
the zeal was
it's only weapon
and
flowed like fire.

The zeal guarded
the mind
it held the stream tight
and strong
it knew the freedom of
sky
and the stream rejoiced
to flow in
what was it's
only path.

Dreams and the voices in those dreams.

The dream opened up
in my voice
waking me up
in ten directions
no choice there
no more asking
thinking about where
to go
a question
that will never
be asked anymore.

The sport to be
played
the cry
the laugh
knowing the reason
of their existence
I had no choice;
was awake
the voice no longer in my dream
knew it's origin
in the eyes
that remained semi drunk state
no choice there
a story untold yet
no more asking
thinking about where
to go
a question
that will never
be asked anymore.

The Imagination

Never ever did an entity
that couldn't be divided
exist,
a thought and it's
existence
or it's illusion
of existence
which
was the only belief
and dis-belief
that I indulged.

Water in milk
can never be seen,
desires arising in mind
can never cease,
the measurement
always look young
and fresh,
that
that you see
in a dream
comes true
when you wake up
if it was not
in the imagination
the fear of death
would not have
manifested.

a simple question..........

When I walked away
away from my space
I walked away from my form
and what I called I.

An individual
only ends up
calling himself an
individual
not being one
starts repeating phrases
creating only suffocation
and then
he wants to be free from
that frustration
frustration of
how to be an individual.

Can the thoughts
and the thinker
look
look at an individual
or only end up repeating
some wise phrases
of some wise men
ONLY.

The sight dissolves in
a sun flare
if the eyes dare.

The wet fuel.

The child was sad
and wet;
and looked up to his
horizon,
which was as wet as him.

The fuel if wet
would never ignite
whatever and however
the source of fire
would be;
it could be of no help.

The Cloud.

I thought I was big
and dark
and too heavy
and
I could hide the sun
your sun from you for eternity;
the sky would hold me still and
I would cease to move.

Thought I
that I could
hide your sun
make it dead
dead forever
never to be reborn,
they called me the
the dark cloud
which the sky
would hold on.

How silly
and how crazy was I
as I expanded to block
you further from
your sun;
it was my universe
that collapsed.

I am now the million
dots carrying the sun for you
and quenching you
of your thirst,
I leave behind a rainbow
up in the sky
and I hope
you can have that too.

I now hope
you know it too
and you learned it as well
that it was
always my universe
that veiled my
supreme.

A Continuous Mind

A continuous mind
in a CONTINUOUS universe
attached to limitation
of visions;
forming illusions
of unattached reality;
never abandoning the point
and the measurement from that
point,
to an attached point.

Let the wandering mind move
before and behind;
like water rides the air
allow it to ride
it's universe,
nothing stands still
not even the mind
my continuous mind
in a CONTINUOUS universe.

Being Crazy.......

I call you an idiot
and can call you only
after being one
myself completely and whole.

I see you loved
to have some honey
what about the sting
and how you thought
you could have some
without having to pay it's price.

Being crazy is the only
option available
the only price to be paid
to land oneself in
profound intelligence.

The Stranger

The stranger knew that his appearance came from his art that he skilled in. He did not know why his eyes went vivid in one moment, pale the next. Sad and joyous he could manage to understand. Strange was he to himself and would remain always a stranger to his life and the life around.
And now,
when he looks at a tree and then at himself, he sees no difference between a man and a tree, both life, only that his roots being the art he excelled or managed in, and that decides his trunk branches leaves.
The trunk of the tree seems like his intellect, the more developed and healthy, the more the leaves and fruits.



''The dreams that flowed
in the shades of life
who else
it was only the
mother that cried.""

My own Dew

Drunk I was
today while the sun
turned gold
the smile knew
the fragrance knew
I drank my own dew

The steps were swift
the jump the highest
a magical moment that the
eyes knew
the smile knew
the dream new

Drift my heart
here in my skies
here in my songs
the mad man knew
the birds knew
my heart new.

hmmmmmmmmm

yeh awaaz kehti hi
hmmmmmm
aaj khamoshi mein
aaj yuun hi buss
kuch judne ko hai
kuch toot ne ko hai
hmmmmmmmmmmmm

yuunhi buss tumhe
aaj kuch ishara do
wish I could hold you
wish I could touch you
yaara tumhe aaj
hmmmmmmmmm

khamoshi ka hua
asar hai
hmmmmmmmmm
buss yunhi
aaj teri bahoein
mein hmmmmmmmmmmmm



yeh awaaz kehti hi
hmmmmmm
aaj khamoshi mein
aaj yuun hi buss
kuch judne ko hai
kuch toot ne ko hai
hmmmmmmmmmmmm


sunno na yeh
awaaz puche
yeh manzil tere
pyar ki
hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
aaj yuun hi buss
aaj kuch ishara do
wish I could hold you
wish I could touch you
yaara tumhe aaj

humsafar tum nahi
abh mere
mere yaara
meri adat ho
hmmmmmmmmmmmmm

yuunhi buss tumhe
hold you
touch you
yaara tumhe aaj
hmmmmmmmmm

The Happening

Continual mutation
a sort of happening
where all that happens
becomes excellent
when the whole universe responds
to that happening.

The I affected
cannot be avoided
goes through the cycle
of
repent torment and reassure;
now only looks at
the sun
captivated by it's light,
by that happening.

The captivity
mutating to a great
liberty
where even anger is justified
and so are aspirations
of the I burning
shinning
illumined and inflamed.

The thought is no match
to this happening
and neither can intellect
unveil;
the mind aspires
and the eyes remain awake
unaware of tears
that fill it
at all times.

The Song

The song knew
from where life came
and where it would go;
it functions on
absolute principles
and would never care
or could care
if I knew this
or knew HOW.

I laugh and shout
CHANCE
then cry and lament
PREDESTINED
and then go silent
understanding that
in infinite
I want to know
its beginning.

The day and night,
the seasons and
the oceans
own a verse in the song
so do I and
what happens to me
in that song.

The Dream

It was always the dream;
dream that is reality
now in action
whatever I find myself in
pain or otherwise.

While in dream
never did I knew that
I was dreaming,
now I see it in action
and yet I seem to be asleep
as I'm
finding searching causes
for the reality
that I find myself in.

The mind and what happens
to it in dreams
as it sets in motion
what the eyes sees
and the senses experience
in time to come.

The laws are same
of all the things;
you would know
how the mind dreams
if you need a change
of your tools
once a month
or
once a year
or
once a life time.

Circle

Slow;
ever so slow
the icy hands of mind
made the eyes
see and listen.

Circle
and the movement in that
circle
is the movement seen
and listened.

Sleepwalking
is what
the soul did all
it's lifetime
and thought
it evolved from point A to B.

A Clueless Mischief

The time being limitless
in past
and so are dimensions and forms limitless
in past
and hence
where could any man
wise or otherwise be
born from

My past gave birth to me
and I hoped that it would die
nothing happened
never could object
and
subject be without a co-relate

Intuitions and insights
are the breath of the past
what is it that they do
or they can do
if emotions aren't fully developed

The past could never be straight
always made me feel like a soul
with a lot of emotions
making the question of
existence
a clueless mischief