Incomplete poem

I started a poem that I could not complete,

I wrote a verse I could not sing, 

I chased a dream I could not see, 

I failed a test I could not attempt; 

Life's stream passes me by, 

And I know not where to rest my feet – 

Darkness and light play games with me, 

I know not how to move on, nor give up. 

Verses have a way

of coming back when least expected; 

Like unheard stories 

they haunt the nights, 

And plague the days

with hazy images. 

My incomplete poem lingered on,

Till I could not rest, nor sleep;

And when I touched my pen today,

It flowed unabashed from the tip. 

The Sound of Silence

Silence sounds like the breath of a flower,
the heartbeat of a rock,
the kiss of the soil;
Silence sounds like the chatter of your eyes,
the words from your heart,
the depth of your thoughts;
Silence sounds like you and me,
cuddled on a couch,
sharing dreams and love.

- Dedicated to Jennifer D'souza

Life (Dug up from a 2007 hand-written note)

I.
The sea of life
is spread before you.
You have to swim in it.
Not with the hopes of reaching the shores,
But with the dread of not being alive for another day.

II.
The monotony of life
Numbs you to quietitude.
And every time you move,
it hurts.
And so long it takes to come out of that numbness
That you lose every other sense.
In the end,
Nothing.

III.
Life is a long search
For love.

You find it,
lose it,
come across it accidentally.
Destroy it by chance,
Discard it,
Run after it...

It eludes you every time
And yet deludes you into thinking
that you have it.

The long search ends without triumph,
And yet you are happy. 

On finding meanings (Dug up from a 2007 hand-written note)

Grass flutters before me,
I see your heart in there.
Insects hover around it -
Is that me?

Investing your surroundings with symbols
Is very easy when melancholic.

Art,
Cannot arise from it.
Poetry does not build itself on symbols alone.

The strain of the nerves
on your temples,
The flow of the blood in your brain,
and the barrage of images
before you
Can make poetry.

To feel,
and to write,
Are different things.

My hand writes,
as the mind tries
To find some coherence in the words. 

The Passing of a Stranger (Dug up from a 2006 hand-written note)

In the Dark, on a New Moon day,
On the barren land,
There walked a stranger on his way,
With a black pony at hand.

Clad he was in dark garments,
And his head was covered too;
On the pony were his saddlements,
Which were all of a dark hue.

His pace was slow, his footing sure,
And wary he was of arounds;
He looked prepared for anything to endure,
And stopped he at all uncertain sounds.

From afar he looked no crook,
Though sure one cannot be;
But one could discern by just one look,
That he was not pleasant to see.

Altogether a foreboding look he bore,
But then, the sky was dark -
So was the land and waters before;
Even a dog would have feared to bark.

He walked on, pursuing the poor beast,
To carry on with his tired hoofs,
An evil pair they looked, to say the least,
Though there can be given no proofs.

Steadily the Sun rose and the dawn crackled,
The foreboding look vanishing,
The rays struck every sand grain and they chuckled,
The pair now further wandering.

With the rise of the Sun, all was plain,
And the pony now looked so brown,
The man we doubted was a mere plebian,
Walking off on an errand of his own. 

Prayer (Dug up from a 2006 hand-written note)

Pray, pray to the Lord,
The Almighty; save me
Once and for always.
In return let me donate
A thousand quids
To your big temple.
They may use it
To pay the temple employees.

Pray that my son's studies
In the UK go unhindered.
My daughter be married off
Without hassles.
And my wife should stay
To serve me till the end.
Don't you take me away soon either -
I have just started my life
After retirement.

You pray and I pray;
The God will take care
of me and you and the others.
He'll solve our problems
While we sit and watch daily soaps,
For He is a magician.
You and I will take a dip
In the Ganges and be sanctified.
He'll be pleased.

Praise be to the Lord! He,
who listens to the prayers
Of you and me and the others.