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“The great force! Few of us relate it with the dark, Many with the world unknown, A realm that erases every mark, Of every seed that in the farm of life was sown, Life fears it and hides at a place called nowhere, Yet it chases it and seeks it, Because its domain is everywhere, And life ultimately before it does submit, It rules over priests, emperors and paupers alike, A force that expects complete submission, It is not a feeling visceral that you may like, Because it enters every domain without any permission, Some say it even rules over time and its every moment, And it is not vindictive at all, Because even without the Sun its shadow is permanent, It has existed since the world witnessed the great fall, Its appearance is not due to serendipity, Because it is the final destiny of everything, It is an experience, felt just for a brevity, It appears from nothing and disappears into nothing, A force before which all kneel, Many incriminate it because it robs them entirely, Throughout one's life it seems unreal and in a moment becomes real, It leaves all sentimental and teary, It is death, the force all living shall experience one day, I wonder why flowers and butterflies do not dread it, I saw it capture and wilt a beautiful flower today, Yet the drooping and dead flower smiled as the hope of next Summer in its fading petals lit, Because death can wilt a summer flower, but it can't keep the Summer from returning again, It can kill a man and a woman, but it can never kill life’s spirit, Without life what shall it kill again and again, So you may despise it, but without it who shall renew life, if not it? There maybe no foreboding feeling about its arrival, But then it is the same about Summer’s advent too, Maybe life and death travel together for life’s continuous revival, And whose act is it who knows, because when a newly married couple says “We do!” We shower them with dead flowers, beautiful flowers, Who killed them, who hurled them, who ended their lives? Just for the sake of prolonging the romance of two lovers, I guess that is how death in mysterious ways strives, Killing all eventually but never taking the blame, So let me too pluck a beautiful rose and gift it to my beautiful lady, All for the sake of love and in the love’s name, Let me love her today and love her everyday, Because who knows when the dark force might strike, A rose too feels happier in her hands, Because it knows it makes her smile and in this act they are alike, Spreading happiness even in death forsaken lands, That is where all beautiful flowers go when they wilt here, To the land where there is everlasting Summer, And every form of beauty always looks the same everywhere, They go there to impart it colours and shades warmer, So when the flower fades and falls, Let us not blame death and curse it, Because it is the only way to climb and cross few walls, For it too ultimately before the mighty will of the Universe does submit!”

“Possibilities! In the loop of possibilities, There is always one reality, As you enter this cycle of possibilities, You unknowingly make a pact with eternity, To seek the new and to seek the original, And as you leave one loop only to enter another, You wonder what is fake and what is original, Because the loops are infinite and they hold this universe together, Where real is never obvious and fake is hidden too, And as you seek the real with your relentless prudence, You are cast in the dimensions fake and real too, Then to establish the reality is what defines that crescendo of prudence, And as ripples of time move over these loops of possibilities, You somehow segregate the unreal loops from the real, And in this intertwining net of possibilities, Now you, your thoughts, your desires are true and real, Whatever you seek now, seeks you as well, And the infinity breaks its endless loop, Because now you are part of eternity as well, Where you now can tell the fake from the original loop, Then the dimensions of the universe attain a singular state, Where universe is like a geometry with just one rule, That it is you who defines its every known and unknown state, And you become part of the reality integrated in every rule!”

“Busy street of emotions On a languid Sunday afternoon on the busy street, Everything everywhere appeared to be missing a beat, Few of their desires, of their hopes, many of their own dreams, And in midst of all this I could hear strange screams, There was rush, there was movement, there was life in its busiest state, Many loved to be a part of it whereas a few showed all signs of hate, They were the ones who were not chasing life, they were after something different, That the busy street did not offer, and to the most people caught in its glamour it nothing meant, To me all appeared to be seeking the same illusive something, A thing that is born of nothing, and to a few it means everything, That something, about which I had no clue, but the busy street certainly knew about it, It knew everything about it, But it had concealed it from all, happy and sad alike, For now it had kept everyone busy pursuing what he/she liked, and what next he/she would like, It was then she appeared in the busiest corner of the street, Where people crossed each other; but noone nobody did ever meet, They all saw other people's eyes but not what their eyes could see, All were in this maze of fascinations where they had been before, but there they again and again wished to be, And then she got up and left this busy corner, And whispered in my ear, “let me show you a life that is real and livelier!” I followed her wherever she went, And that is how my Sunday was spent, Finally as the evening set in and people began to feel weary, And life too seemed dreary, I looked at the once busy street that was now empty and desolate, “This is the fact of life, and this is what you shall be able to isolate!” With these last words she disappeared, And now on the street, only I and my infinite avatars appeared, Everywhere, in everything, and the street got busy again, Because now I was dealing with life in its reality: joy, sorrow, love, faith, defection, everything and even pain, So whenever you visit this busy street, walk towards everything with every feeling, Because in our lives we all are either with retreating joy or with an advancing pain dealing!”

“As I loved It was a moment of inner strife, Where everything clashed with every force of life, The feelings shielded the heart, The memories protected the mind with an inimitable art, And in this brutal battle I was caught, Everything appeared flawed and with follies fraught, Heart was beating to please the feelings, And the mind dwelled on memories in its secret dealings, But whatever their acts might have been, They both were desperately trying to keep alive her beauty that they had once felt and seen, And I let them indulge in their acts, Because my heart through the memories of the mind was actually safeguarding its love pacts, Made many decades ago, But their authenticity and their freshness it could not forgo, And I knew both of them were willingly caught in this situation, Because it was their only possible means to offer me some emotional restoration, So that they could live as I lived, So that they felt loved as I loved! And they both silently quoth, “we love her,” And I openly said, “I love you because you love her!”

“You and I “It should be filtered”, said she, Every feeling that you wish to share with me, “It should be just for me”, said she, Every kiss and every sweet memory, “It should always be near and never too far”, said she, Every echo of your heart beat, that only beats for me, “It should never end once it begins”, said she, Every moment of romance between you and me, “It should not conceal me”, said she, Every shadow of your love, your veil of feelings that falls over me, “It should brighten me to create a happy me”, said she, Every breath of yours should only sing of me and confess about me, “It should remind you how much I need you”, said she, Every day, every night, every lifetime, it has to be just me, only me, “It shall be so, my love!” , said I, Every moment, every day, and always just you and I, “It is a feeling I felt when I first realised how endless the sky is”, said I, And ever since then I have longed to tell you, it is forever you and I, “It is only then I like the stars and the beautiful blue sky”, said I, Now every day, she holds my hand and we witness the endless beauty of the endless sky!”

“Her eyes I wanted to see my face in her eyes, But the night was dark and there was no moon in the skies, I wanted to develop a cohesion with her every desire, And pervade her every feeling with a passionate fire, I wanted to see how deep her eyes were, Dive in them and sink deep into them somewhere, My wishes were like a cohort of my heart’s desires, Who for whatever reason only her beauty admires, Maybe her beauty seeps into me, Through the pervious moments of my life, and she becomes an inseparable part of me, So even when the night is dark and there is no moon in the sky, I can still see my reflection in her love kissed eye, And when sometimes I sink deep in them, I realise she too had been waiting for me in each one of them, So, she closes them slowly, And we both sink in them together; happily and lovingly, And the moon who wants to see her too, Curses the clouds, and the insensitive dark sky too, And now we both lie suspended in her sleepy eyes, Which only open for me, for nobody else; not even for the blue skies!”

“What if and love What if time develops a trait to forget, What if light does not travel at all, What if life turns into a ceaseless moment of regret, And every perception of height begins to crumble and fall, What will become of the memories then, What will become of the darkness, Shall we be restricted to lead a life in a den, Where there is everything packed within feelings riddled with moments of nothingness, What will become of the love you felt, What will become of the faces you come across everyday, Shall the feeling die suddenly that arose in your heart when you had met, That special someone on that very special moment, on that wonderful someday, Will days then be reduced to just a someday, just another day, Will feelings flow like a river that does not know its course, But overflows its banks because it just wants to flow anyway, Will you be then frozen in moments of endless remorse, Because time has forgotten its preceding moments, Memories exist but for what the mind is unable to discern, And you lead a life that thrives on strange supplements, Of needless worries, and exceedingly needless concern, What if time stole from her my all memories, What will then remind her of me, Will she then lead a life of endless comedies or never ending tragedies, Because in the crowd when I pass by she fails to recognise me, I wonder what it will be like when time becomes forgetful, And light cannot travel anymore, Maybe I would choose to live in sublime moments deeply thoughtful, Where I will only think of you and nothing else no more, Then I will let time forget everything, And let light not travel at all, It cannot steal from me your memories because except you and your memories there is nothing, And then both time and light shall in the abyss of your memories fall, Where both will now only recognise you and bear your signatures, And ah, my joy to see you then appear everywhere, And I can barely wait to see light bearing your beauty’s textures, While Irma my love, time spreads your memories everywhere!”

“Who is who? In the silence that sinks into you, In the seclusion that excludes you, You begin to realise without her you are not you, And you begin to believe in her more than you do in you, Wherever you might be, her thoughts seem stubbornly pervasive, And in this state of her pervasiveness you let her memories become invasive, And now you are no more you and this happens to you in phases successive, Now everything appears yonder and so inconclusive, But you love her because now she is a part of you, You exist in her and not in you, Even your heart revolts as it begins to beat for her and not for you, You no longer exist in days or months, you just exist in moments where you wonder without her what are you? In life everything seems pertinent because you have evolved into a poker face, Because no matter how hard you try, in the mirror, in your own reflection you see her face, A sort of a purgatory for true lover’s face, Where through some intermediary grace you now kiss her face, Because now it is difficult to tell who is who, Whether it is you, it is her, and you wonder who can tell; who? After struggling to define who is who, You let her face, her memories, her feelings, her heart beats define you. Because this is who you are, the real you! So let me love you Irma with this poker face, And see if you can find the grace in this superimposed face, And when million reflections are cast in the mirror of life let me see if you can identify the face, That loved you for your beautiful heart and your inward grace!”

“Never quit on her To deal with the desires and feelings of the heart, Demands you to be an artist who knows life’s every art, That to love, feel loved and be sometimes discarded like scrap, And still steer the heart from this destiny’s trap, Where it seeks to push you into the base of the pit, Where longing and agony become your permanent habit, And if you realise it and yet you love her true, The pit shall reveal to you the sky that is clear and blue, And from there too your heart shall say, “I love you everyday and anyway!” It is then you shall become the artist who can paint hearts, Fo to paint hearts needs the knowledge of life’s most faint and sensitive colours of all sorts, That make the admirer believe in its beauty that throbs always, Though the person is not around but her feelings somehow seep into life’s long nights and short days! Just to keep you alive in the pit, So that you still love her and you do not quit!”

“She and her feeling! She seeks a chance, A moment to feel and romance, To fulfill with life her last dance, Before she feels serenaded by a new form of trance, Her love, her passions for someone, With whom she feels there are just two them and no one, With whom time appears to have acquired a new semblance, where being two feels like one, Her dance has ended and now she is waiting for this someone, She seeks him in every corner, She thinks of him to be engulfed by feelings warmer, His thoughts make her feel better, But she can't help, but wander, and wander, Until she has met this feeling, That she has already felt and with it her heart is already dealing, It feels like a very high ceiling, That you can see, but you can't touch, and ah this helpless feeling! So she waits at the corner, looking at the ceiling and gazing at hopes, That dangle from the ceiling like ropes, That you can see but you can't touch, just like beautiful hopes, With whom your heart often in dreams elopes, The high ceiling, the visible and reachable ropes, all there, Tempting and challenging the feeling of love, within her growing everywhere, But where is he, although she has searched for him everywhere, Then one day her heart beats differently and she realises he was always there, Just like the ceiling that was waiting not to be touched but to be felt, And when she let this realisation melt in her, his true sensation she felt, He appeared everywhere, and now with him just like her heart her eyes too dealt, Because finally she had felt the way he always felt!”

“Love, she and me! She stood there waiting, And being an admirer of hers I thought she was waiting for me, She brushed her hair sideways, And like others I thought she was doing it for me, She walked with grace and well measured steps, And I thought she was walking towards me, She smiled and her shimmering lips parted slowly, And I thought they parted and shimmered to kiss me, She knelt a bit and looked at the ground, And I felt she was looking at my shadow and then at me, She spoke of some wonderful experiences she had, And I thought they were all due to me, She raised her eyes to stare at the midday Sun, And I felt in its gleaming rays she was discovering me, She called someone haply, And I wished if it were me, just me, She traveled to some favourite destination, And I wished if it were me, She confessed her heart gives rise to endless desires, And I so deeply wished, all her desires led to me, just me, She looked at the starry night and and closed her eyes to dream, How I wished all her dreams were about me, In the morning she woke up with fresh smile, And I hoped the smile always flashes only when she thinks of me, Then she ventured into the affairs of the day, And I wished her every step brought her closer to me, She often said her prayers and thought about God, And how I wished that her God thought of me, She was carrying a bouquet of roses yesterday, And I wondered for whom could it be? And wished it were for me, Then she walked away holding just one rose in her hand, And I hoped she dropped it in front of me, It is afternoon and she is walking towards me, Maybe it is just my imagination because I feel her true joy lies in being with me, But who cares whether it is my imagination or something I so deeply wish for me, That I want to love her, and spend the days thinking that she only loves me, She has walked by so many times, But she has never walked towards me, It is a dilemma alike the day and the night, where one would never know whether the day seeks night or the night seeks the day, So whenever she walks past me, I convince my heart she was walking towards me, A decade has passed and her mere glimpse still gladdens me, But today she walked up to me and said, “do you like me or you love me?” I stood there speechless, not that my feelings have turned numb, but my words were failing me, But somehow I managed to say, “I love you more than me!”

“Desire and love! Few desires and few dreams are irrepressible, Because they arise from minds unknown interactions, With heart that beats in rhythms unopposable, To become minds everlasting spell of attractions, Then as the heart, the mind and the desires homogenize, They create a world painted with fancy colours, Where just your face is what the mind and heart recognise, And the familiar echoes of the breathless lovers, The heart now dwells in a state of isolationism, While the mind weaves your thoughts and your imaginations, To be a subdued disciple of fatalism, Always engrossed in your incantations, Where the desire to imagine you in everything is dominant, Where every heart beat and the mind seeks you, And with your sensations the entire world gets pregnant, And I kiss this ubiquitous form where everything now is you, And now I seek a new exaltation of my mind and heart alike, That to love you Irma in this world of imagination and the real world too, It maybe a proposal that Gods may dislike, But it shall always be so because I love you!”

“Everything and she! Still, silent and motionless, That is how the world appears without her, A world of beauty that has been sleepless, And is eagerly waiting to catch a glimpse of her, Before the rivers, the flowers, the wind; all sleep and rest. The Summer has gone by and Autumn has passed too, Now it is winter when in the mornings East looks like the West, And the less radiant Sun longs to catch a glimpse of her too, The world, the morning and the evenings as well, All seem to pass by as usual, but with a slower pace, Where is she? Nothing and nobody can tell, But the hope to see her someday has made them adopt a slower pace, While I look at the Sun, the mountains and the rivers, I am reminded of her, So, I too have adopted the nature’s pace, And at times I see her waking shadows turn and stir, And ah, how jovial is my heart’s pace, the happy pace, and then it is her face and the heart beating with a happy pace!”

“When time bends There, placed adjacent to each other, Stood everything and nothing, There was everywhere and nowhere together, And even forever and never existed as one thing, And fate asked me to choose one combination, Whatever I chose, I chose and didn't choose as well, Because with everything there was nothing too as its destination, With everywhere there was nowhere, similar to heaven and hell, And forever was accompanied by never, So what to choose I did not know, Although it was not an experience newer, But it was a new realization, about which something all your life you know, It was then I said “everything and nothing!” And fate laughed and said, “very wisely chosen! Because now with everything I shall offer you everything, Everything, everywhere, forever, life, joy, beauty and a height where your heart has never risen, But everything is followed by nothing, nowhere, never, sorrow, All that you may seek not so often, But at least you will experience darkness after having experienced the brightest glow, Because without knowing nine one can never arrive at ten, So, well chosen because had you chosen forever, It might have been that darkness visited you first, And then it would have been so forever, And if you had chosen everywhere it too may have been an unpleasant burst!” I wondered what it meant, But as I grew old I realised in everything lies true eternity, So this wish still pays my every rent, For all my desires and wishes of joy and beauty, Because everything is never ending, By the time it shall reach its end and become nothing, I shall be long gone, a summer flower already fading, Then it does not matter whether it is something, everything or nothing, And every life should be about everything, Only then we get to experience joy and beauty that never ends, To be our companions beyond that unseen world of that malign feeling, Where everything becomes nothing, everywhere becomes nowhere, and forever becomes never, where time bends, So choose everything whenever life offers you a chance, Because one day it will surely end, So when you get the chance, perform your dance, Because there shall be enough time later, to repair and mend, All nothings, all nevers, all nowheres and all ends, Therefore, the day sun shines, assume it shines just for you, Because when time finally bends, It bends for all of us, not just for me, but you too!”

“Innocent girl! There in the distance she walked, She skipped, she frolicked and with a stranger she talked, Just for a while, maybe a moment or two, Still wondering what next to do, Maybe keep talking or just keep walking, Then the stranger left, but it was her innocence that he was stalking, I followed the stranger, and he followed the young girl, She was dressed decently with her each ear adorned with a pearl, Then as she reached the edge of the park, Where it is usually cold and dark, The stranger stood before her, And then he followed her, wherever she went it seemed he was with her, The girl seemed worried and uncomfortable, And desperately looked for means to feel a bit secure and comfortable, The stranger was resolved to keep bothering her, As I wondered what pleasure from this hideous act he might incur, He was about to assault her dignity, Without any remorse, any forethought and with no sign of pity, The girl closed her eyes, And I wonder in that moment what she felt about herself and about the inaction of the skies, It was then I decided to come forward, And I asked her if there was anything making her feel awkward, "Yes, yes," she said hurriedly, "It is him, he has been stalking me shamelessly," Then I turned toward this person, And I asked him if to justify his behaviour he had any valid reason, He shrugged his shoulders and walked away, The innocence of the young girl was saved today, But tomorrow when none of us is there, What shall she do and who will offer her strength in her moments of fear, Maybe it is time to change something forever, If we cannot do it now, then we may never, Today the stranger left, But who shall compensate the young girl for the theft, That robbed her of her freedom and innocence, Well I guess nobody can, because whenever she will be on a street, she will always feel the stranger’s presence!”