An aside to the wanderer in the wilderness of my home

Is it strange that 
I go spirally down the gyre
of life....
Some times I wonder
When I open my windows
Do I close my doors
When I pull my curtains apart
Dont I stay in?
When i speak volumes about 
a flight , 
Where are my
brooms, my pans, 
And my pangs of unfinished jobs leading me to?
cleaning,scrubbing , cooking
ohhhhhhh!
The clean grey tiles of my home
Tell you a tale
of a suspended time
I live everyday,
If you can see it.

The doors of my home that forces me back
into the never ending bondage.
Call it life.....

And you managed to escape all that  through
What you called  revelation

The shape of pain

It remains,
Right there in your throat
A lump ..that seems to grow
gnawing into your
Existence,
Freezing my blood,
As it shackles my heart
With its chilled fingers...
Smothering me breathless...
Bury me down
Into the deepest hollows of the earth,
Maybe I'd get some air.
Maybe I'd learn to sleep
Maybe darkness will do the trick
Maybe ... maybe...no more creepy colours to smudge my nights dirty .

Time

Time stands like a stranger  ,

In a calendar,

With the dates arranged 

like the stiff collar of the shirt,

Giving me shivers,

With its stern undertones of a deadline.

 My eyes wander

beyond the frames,

For the count of time.

Only to find them
In the tales of yesterdays,
And in the expectations of a tomorrow.

Somewhere down the line,
They break  into moments,

Elongating into unending sagas,
Silencing the ticking soldier,

Parading around the future.

I do not know where I belong,
 l forget the borders of my existence,
Only to feel my breath 
Diffuse into the air,
Nowhere to be found!

Glimpses of a strange vision haunts me, 

No more of  yesterdays and tomorrows.

nothing remains but an eternal moment

freed from the bondage of time,
 merging  into the ocean of the universe.

Being safe

Her eyes,
Sponged the dreams,
Colours ,vibrant and alive,
Her tiny legs ,
Barely touched the ground,
Flitting around the garden,
As her wonderland
Sprouted in her winged mind.

The call seemed to be for her,
But she flowed
With the wind.
Who has the time
To reply?
There! the cloud had melted
Into an icy lake.

The call persisisted,
And some one stepped out
Of the dull,
Dreamless home.
With a smile playing on his lips,
Her uncle moved on
To her.
She ran to him,
To show the spread of the icy lake
He hissed into her ear,
"Get in, dear!
Or the beggars
Might as well bundle you
In their bags.
Have you seen their hideous faces?
Be r..eally.. careful.
Or you would be
Walking in rags
And a begging bowl."

The gates creaked open,
And an old figure in rags
Hobbled into the courtyard.
Terror stricken she rushed
Into the house,
Into the room...
And on to the bed...
She leaped,
Covering her face.

The ghostly undone walls kept gaping at her,

Bricks peeping out of the scraped paint

All the dull dreariness secured within it's
Fold, 

She sat huddled on the bed

All alone wanting these walls

To shut her safe
From the hideous beggar.
The dreadful tales gripped her mind,
As she saw herself in rags and a bowl.
She moved further into the corner
And the walls moved in
Prisoned her in,
Blinded her vision
Tarnished her dreams dull
Scraping off the colours of her imagination.

A River's Lament

Our childhood summer holidays

unquestionably ended in the folds 

Of the warm golden sand,

Laced by the dark meandering river.

Our hearts tugged out of it's ties

To see the glorious sun 

Melt into the stretches of sand 

Spreading to an unseen horizon.

Plunging down into the sandy ripples

Our hands busy , moulding,digging, reshaping,

creating a world around us,

Only to be crumbled  in no time.

Finally to blissfully glide 
into the warm currents,
surrendering to the nudging drifts,
of the playful river.

The river still flows by my village, like a widow.
In vain do I search,for a strip of sand.
The sandy banks nowhere to be found,
Probably martyred in the name of development.

Nevertheless, with a semblance of tranquility,
The river moves on,
drenched in the mire of agony.
Oh! Had we the eyes to see her desolation!

Freedom

What rules draw limit to the mind?

Mind that transcends entity, life, death......

You never know which world it loves to delve in.

I have a world lit in me,
 Moulded, reshaped by the  the anvil,

But not yet dissipated.

The dull mundane routines have not yet tied my mind.

That sets my freedom.

Being in love

 

 Those dreamy eyes unfasten,

 An air of warmth into my nights.

 Your arms blanket me into a world of their own,

Making me sink into your heartbeats,

And erase my unwanted memories.

 Love is strange,

And how it gets into your veins,

Is even more ridiculous.

The grass looks greener,

the days are brighter,

and a smile plays on your lips,

making you wonder at your happiness.