Sunday, May 22, 2011

Seeds of LOVE

Like a bird,
Flying into the sea,
The sun sets near the origin,
Where the end begins,
And all the smiles fade away,
As the vision takes away,
All the memories,
And dumps them into the sea,
Till the waves carry them,
On their backs,
And hurls them towards me,
And the fingers of my feet,
Tingle and the cold water,
Feels like a memory,
Of someone close to me,
Born from the origins,
Where the sun met the sea,
And the trees grew from the seeds,
Unwanted necessities,
Ride on the waves,
And the sea hurls you back,
As the ego reaches,
Far above the sea,
Teaches you not to preach,
But ride with the waves,
Towards the origin point,
Where you and I meet,
And the sun rises from your hands,
Sets into me,
Shine fades away,
As you encompass everything,
That glows or glitters in between,
Born are the necessities,
Of each and every human being,
From the seeds of your love,
And it ends where it all began,
Sun sets where it was meant to be,
And your smile rides on the waves,
Sea hurls the memories towards me,
And the morning sets,
Where your mind awakes,
Teaching a sense of reality,
And the world twists and tumbles,
Till your sound reaches me,
And the seeds of love,
Grow into a tree,
Where the sun sets,
In between you and me,
And the night lies awake,
In hope of a memory,
Breaching the boundaries,
Of a long term memory,
In fear of waking up,
And forgetting what love is,
But sneaking from a window,
And watching the sea,
Sun rising from its origin point,
Riding the memories on the waves,
Hurling it towards you and me,
And the seeds of love,
May someday grow into a tree.

Saturday, May 21, 2011

A song is a memory

There are good songs and then there are songs that change into a memory. When I visited London for the first time I had heard a song long before in India. The same song played on the radio in a cab of London. It connected with the surroundings somehow making it the origin of that place. Some songs are born in a place. Not the place where they were composed but the place where the composition came close to you. In my life during hard times there have been songs which have been good. But with the harshness of the ongoing things the song withered, became a part of the pain.

In your life you hear millions of songs during times of love, hatred, cries, laughter or just for the sake of listening. You meet someone, fall in love and the songs during that period become a part of you all your life. They remind you of her in a good way. Even if the love falls apart somehow that person feels good to you. A song has a moment and nothing can change it. Although change is a part of each and every human being feelings change, people fall apart. But the moment, the memory close to that song never changes.
When the final day arrives a song reminds you of all the good times you have spend with your loved ones. Life has been good, bad, worse and the journey has not been smooth. God never meant you to walk a path of flowers. A song is like a memory it stays with you forever. People forget a lot of things, a lot of memories just vanish into thin air, but the song reminds you of all the things you have felt.

“A song is like a memory, change is inevitable, life changes, people change, but a song never changes, like a good friend, song waits for you and a memory is like a song whose journey begins from a mother’s womb to your death bed and the song keeps playing, like a good friend, it stays”

Thursday, May 5, 2011

She Cries

She cries,
As the world slides,
Away from her,
Red and blur,
Indifferent are the needs,
Of each and every,
Human being,
Simple as that,
They crave for love,
As love is the only thing,
That curves away,
Hell bent to stay the same,
And she keeps crying,
Till the world stops,
To wipe her tears off,
In reach of gold they glitter,
As the shadow of morning,
Covers her face as if,
To grace such a beauty,
To touch her,
Itself, Is eternal love,
And the grass screams in agony,
As her feet never touch the dew,
Covered by morning hues,
She floats above,
And she cries,
Till the morning sky,
Parts away in awe,
God needs a peak of her,
Admiring his creation,
From above,
And she blurs away,
From the scene,
As the morning cries,
Distracts me from her,
And she sits near the corner,
Stranded and all alone,
Two feet next to me,
And my hands shiver,
To grace such a beauty,
Touching dissolves her,
Too pure to seek,
And she cries,
Till the morning sun rise,
And signify her beauty,
In an element of gold and blue,
World seems so blur,
Through her tears,
Fear penetrates her skin,
And she cries and cries,
Till the tears seize,
Not a hand to reach,
By her side,
My hands are too dirty,
To breach the outskirts,
Of such a beauty,
Heaven never permitted me,
To seek an angel,
I need to die,
To be able to touch her,
And she cries all alone,
Me sitting two feet from her,
Distance seems like a bridge,
And the dew slides,
On the morning grass,
She floats away from me,
And all I can do,
Is sit and stare,
And admire her beauty.