Debipakkha

Hundreds of years have passed,
And waiting for a hundred to come,
Like the dark alleys of the city,
Like a boy yelling in pain,
You have come again,
To shatter my existence,
And the small adjustments I have done with my life.
Today you try to inundate me,
Into the fragnance of Kamini,
But for how long?
You will pass away no sooner than you came,
Leaving me alone with your withered thoughts.
I will coax with a nostalgic sorrow,
And would reach my hand to you,
But all I'll see is a white owl,
Resting on the window pane.
 

The Distant Earth

Turn your head and look into the eyes of the distant earth,
Where the nothingness prevails at large,
A daring dash of pink,
That blinds your vision,
That makes you think,
Rises today from an oblivion,
All you need to do, is to to turn your head
And look into the eyes of the Sun.

They had slept like crocodiles on the muddy river bank,
Waiting for themselves to make the move,
As I sit here on the beaches of sand,
Playing with the jigsaw, trying to fit pieces on the grove,
Some unknown creatures surrond me,
Look at me with caution and curiosity,
I ignore them and let them go their own way,
And built castles on the sand.

I can see the tears around the eyes of the moon,
I can see her scarred round her neck and breast,
She looks back at me and seeks out help,
But I turn back,
Tell her that I have a long way to go,
And start walking.

I walk down the jungles on rain,
Through torrid deserts on warm summer noons,
Over the mountains when they are white with ice,
Sailing across the ocean in storms...
I reach your laps and I collapse,
I try to cry but feel my voice choked,
I reach out to hold your hands,
Only to realize that I am paralysed with love.
So I turn my head, away from you,
And look into the eyes of distant earth,
If there is someone to love there,
If there is some life...

The Blind Self

Now that the lights have faded away,
Can I open my-self to blindness
So that I open my eyes
And see not a thing?

Can I leave myself out of all these ordeal,
And rest like a little bird on the river-shore?
Does it make sense to run,
Knowing very well there is no end...

There is no end to the rising,
Till I fall on my face,
Till I raise my head and watch the disgrace
Do I still want to rise and fall in the end?

So I ask you again,
Now that the lights have faded away,
Can I open my blind self
And see not a thing?