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“Loving her again and again It was romantic, Everything seemed idyllic, There she was everywhere, And I too was there somewhere, Life was breathing, With our hearts still beating, Like a stream always flowing, In my memories and around me she was glowing, Like a midsummer fair, Where joys with merriments have an eternal affair, Where moments end to begin again, In this world my love Irma, I shall love you again and again!”

“Let my heart and mind The heart loves, The mind thinks, The heart wants to believe in what it loves, But the mind denies to feel before it thinks, The day brings her forth in beauty’s all possible forms, The night hides her from the eyes desperate to see her, Then the mind creates her in all known and felt forms, While the heart begins to only beat for her, The pulse of life seeks her in everything, While the fear of death scares the mind, But the heart is busy creating her life’s impressions in everything, So that when the mind dies, it loves her with its own mind, But neither the heart nor the mind bother to consult me, For the mind believes what it thinks and the heart believes only what it feels, And my mind constantly thinks of her, my heart only loves to feel her, and ah what a joy they both bring to me, Because only when my heart is loving her, my mind the true pulse of life feels, So I finally get to know the heart in love, My mind that loves to think only her thoughts, And finally I allow my heart to be the heart of love, And my mind the mind of loving thoughts, Her thoughts, her love, her feelings, her everything, Until I lose every sense that defines me, Because now just like my heart, wherever I might be, I only see her in everything, Even her sensation now fills a major part of me, And finally I manage to give all these feelings a name, That always feels and sounds the same, She, her beauty, her feelings and her name, The world around me has not evolved, but certainly has changed, but her feeling and my love for her remain the same, So my love Irma, let my heart feel you long enough, For it loves beating for you, Let my mind think of you long enough, For I love it, when it only thinks of you!”

“Let my heart and mind The heart loves, The mind thinks, The heart wants to believe in what it loves, But the mind denies to feel before it thinks, The day brings her forth in beauty’s all possible forms, The night hides her from the eyes desperate to see her, Then the mind creates her in all known and felt forms, While the heart begins to only beat for her, The pulse of life seeks her in everything, While the fear of death scares the mind, But the heart is busy creating her life’s impressions in everything, So that when the mind dies, it loves her with its own mind, But neither the heart nor the mind bother to consult me, For the mind believes what it thinks and the heart believes only what it feels, And my mind constantly thinks of her, my heart only loves to feel her, and ah what a joy they both bring to me, Because only when my heart is loving her, my mind the true pulse of life feels, So I finally get to know the heart in love, My mind that loves to think only her thoughts, And finally I allow my heart to be the heart of love, And my mind the mind of loving thoughts, Her thoughts, her love, her feelings, her everything, Until I lose every sense that defines me, Because now just like my heart, wherever I might be, I only see her in everything, Even her sensation now fills a major part of me, And finally I manage to give all these feelings a name, That always feels and sounds the same, She, her beauty, her feelings and her name, The world around me has not evolved, but it certainly has changed, but her feeling and my love for her remain the same, So my love Irma, let my heart feel you long enough, For it loves beating for you, Let my mind think of you long enough, For I love it, when it only thinks of you!”

“Heart’s deviation Let us travel from now to then, from today to tomorrow, Let us fulfill our desires and wishes in a row, Because they lie sequenced in the order only you and I know, And you can see them all over my face while I see them appearing on your beautiful brow, Let me take you into the clouds and get wet, Let me take you there where I first saw you and then our hearts met, Because in that place everything is still wet, Although there are no clouds and the sky is clear, I wonder from where it could such a cover of wetness get, Let me take you there and together discover its secret, Let us know what no one else knows about it, Because the place is mysteriously always wet and it is beyond my wit, Or it could be it is just my false impression of it, Let me then make a confession, that since you left nothing has returned, Let me reveal to you the world that appears deceptively wet as it is actually the world that has endlessly burned, Because when from the distance you see fields of burned desires and wishes turned to ash, they look like wet surfaces where everything is frozen in stillness and unturned, And it is from ash covered places like these life has all its ploys learned, Let me take you away from here too, somewhere far, very far, where burning is not required, Let us travel there where heart’s find whatever they have wished for and desired, Because they say utopia is somewhere where human feelings are never by desperate moments mired, And in this outlandish possibility let us seek each other and never feel tired, Let me love you behind the clouds and beyond the blue sky, Let us go there where everything burns: the sun, the stars, the universe, and everything that flies by, Because there, maybe when you see them burning in the fire of eternity and cry, You might realise why few places appear to be always wet long after their fires die, Let me look at your face, your eyes; and understand you a bit more, Let me see you in reality’s dress and then let me your every sentiment explore, Because when we realise what burning feels like it is then your true soul peeps from your skin’s every pore, Then let me kiss you and see if you too ever felt wet, and feel the corner of your heart where all your feelings you store, Let me let you explore me in the same ways, Let me let you experience the wetness of my soul, that has burned endlessly for nights and days, Because only then you might be able to see what you could never feel because you knew not how to deal with heart’s ways, As it is with all of us, in the beginning we let our minds dictate the darkness of our nights and the brightness of our days, Let me cover you with my desires and their fires and everything that you wish to feel, Let me show you how human lives turn and spin on the fate’s wheel, Because sometimes what appears to be the reality is actually not real, Maybe it will be the misadventure of our hearts but then if you look at the world and the universe even real sometimes seems unreal, Let me introduce you to the world where everything is real because there is no fake dimension, Let us then live in this romantic moment this romantic sensation, Because in the miscellany of my feelings, desires, and endless wishes, your feelings appear to be my heart’s only native creation, So let me, my love Irma, make you feel what true impenitence feels like when you do not obey your mind but you follow your heart’s every selfless deviation!”

“Not fake Inside every feeling lies her quiet presence, A feeling that influences me more like a sense, A sense that surges above all other senses, Creating inside me a universe of new emotional resonances, Which fill me with her thoughts and new feelings, And life begins to stir and somewhere in the mind a thought rings, That possesses my every sense and now I see her in all things, And what a pleasure it is to notice her presence in these sightings, Offering a changed view of reality, A new prayer in the same old temple with the primitive deity, That resides in my heart’s nativity, And experiences moments of rejoicement in my mind that is the master of just one faculty, That of always persuading the heart to just beat for her sake, Even if that means putting the very purpose of my life at stake, But now, together; the heart and mind a beautiful world make, Where she is always real and not a part of a feeling fake!”

“Outlandish feelings Outlandish worlds exist within us all, Because there are stars that rise and then they fall, Stars that belonged to a different world and now here in an alien world they are, Alienated from their native skies to be cast into worlds astoundingly too far, And in this outlandishness of rising feelings and many a belief, The mind with the heart seeks familiar trails of relief, But both lie mired in their unwillingness to accept forced retirement, Because loving her thoughts, believing in her brings wavers of excitement, That condition the mind to seek the heart that felt and knew her so well, In this outlandish emotional landscape where fate launches its ominous spell, To never let the mind find the heart that easily fell for her charms, Trapping the mind in new emotional storms, Where life is turned into this falling star, That gets thrown into a world of alien sentiments and a new emotional spar, Between the mind that seeks those known feelings and the heart that knew her so well, And deals with the hostile world of emotions where nothing feels like her and nothing bears her smell, And it is in these outlandish territories of life that few of us seek a domicile existence, Even if that means indulging in pretense and experience a few artificial moments of romance, Whatever the case maybe, the romantic mind always seeks the romantic heart, In these unknown landscapes where the fakeness of the alien feelings every sense does so easily outsmart, Until the mind learns to calm itself with the hope that fallen stars rise and shine again, And it forms a covenant of survival with the diabolic and ruthlessly crude spells of pain. And then life continues to wander in all directions seeking the heart that knew her, Until one day it resembles the life that hangs on the devil’s spur! But the aging mind is still rigid and unwilling to believe in the deceptive landscapes of this outlandish territory, Because it remembers all the heart beats of love and still believes in their fraternity, Finally one day the mind rises once again above the feelings of alienation, Because few minds believe in endlessly seeking her sequestered feelings of love with a God like determination!”

“No endings All seasons have ended, Life that began once, it too has ended, But in all these endings something is born, A new hope, a new desire, a new wish is born, Old visions have ended, Old realities do not exist anymore, they too have ended, Because sometimes the heart wants to seek more, So the mind ends the old, to be able to align itself with the heart a little more, Yesterday's dreams are over, their appeal has ended, All moments associated with all yesterdays and bygone days, have ended, But the feeling to seek a new end has surfaced, And to support this pursuit to seek a new end, a new beginning has surfaced, Past has become insignificant because it has ended, And before the present moments end too like the past that just now ended, The present has arrived, And with it many hopes too have arrived, But, her memories, her feelings, her sensations, none of them have ended, Because she appeared as the only beginning when everything had ended, So my new romance with her has begun, That begins with every new end, and I love whatever in its wake has begun, Tomorrow, today will have ended, Just like the moments that belong to the moment called now, will in the next moment have ended, But she is neither like today nor like the disappearing moments of time, She is the feeling that becomes more relevant and more anchored in the present, unlike the virtue of time! So let me love her until everything has ended, To know what actually begins when everything has ended, And be sure that it is my love for her that can never die or be confounded, These maybe lover’s solicitous feelings, and maybe it is due to them my love for her can never be confounded!”

“Heart’s revolt I remember her song, I remember her soft breathing rhymes, She lies within me just like the water to the ocean does belong, She is the wonder of my past that her memories carry into my present times, I think of her in all my heart’s appropriateness, I feel her still everywhere and in everything, In my mind’s every thought and in its wakefulness, And in my dreams she still appears as the most beautiful thing, I am facing an eviction of different kind, I am voluntarily surrendering all feelings that do not bear her hints, Although my mind is least pliant and it doesn't want to unwind, Although my heart throbs for me, deep in its chambers it only her feelings mints, I helplessly watch my own mind and heart in this act of revolt, I face them both in the clamor of day and the silence of nights, And I feel their enormous bolt, And now, I am used to them both, and now; we three have become the sources of our own secret delights, I may be a traveler on the highway of life, I may be seeking what we all seek from it, But when you realise a pliable mind and a pliant heart do not represent the fullness of life, You fall in love with her, and the feeling grows deeper, until the feeling becomes a part of you and you become a part of it!”

“Only with her - PART I Dealing with estranged feelings and the heart’s missing heart beats, Feels like a world that its horizon never meets, It maybe what one experiences in the moment of continuous disbelief, Because without her the mind finds no solace and the heart fails to play the symphonies of relief, As the estrangement grows and the feeling deepens in those prolonged spells of darkness, The night grows over the mind eclipsing its every thought with a slight crassness, Where it feels abandoned by the heart, because it seems to beat only for those estranged feelings, And ah the herculean effort for the mind to nurture the heart’s darling seedlings, From where the heart grows reasons to keep throbbing, and every flexing of muscle seems to be a harbinger of new suffrage, And it somehow always convinces the mind not to let her feelings be cast into scrappage, The heart, the poor beating heart, suffers from this expensive essentialism, To sustain her estranged feelings in its love chambers and in the mind’s thoughts, despite their widening chasm, But the heart loves her unconditionally, and the mind too finally gives in to the heart’s will voluntarily, And now the heart beats for her softly as the mind once again begins to think of her so lovingly, Now both the mind and the heart deal with a different reality, That of establishing her memories, her feelings as the principal deity, But who shall hold her entirely? Because the heart loves her deeply and now the mind too loves her no less, And in their strife; I, who owns them both, has to deal with a new kind of stress, And I only care less, because in their desire to love her forever, the heart will beat endlessly and the mind will think of her ceaselessly, While I collate the extract of their feelings about her, and I live everyday in her thoughts fearlessly, And the mystery grows deeper, that who loves who, they love her, I love her too, and they know, But without them I cannot love her, and without me they cannot exist, this is a reality we all know, However, the desire to love someone so beautiful has made them my foe, and my willingness to keep living for her, Has encouraged them to exploit my weakness, that to always live loving her, As long as the heart beats, the mind doesn't mind, and as long as my mind only her thoughts creates, I too do not mind, Living in a body, where my own heart only beats for her, my mind only thinks about her, while I am busy living for her with feelings well defined, Continued in part II........”

“Only with her - PART II For when it comes to love and life, prestige loses its significance, All that matters is the moment where you can love her with every heartbeat and the mind’s complete faithfulness, I had fallen in love long ago, but my mind took a while to love what I realised as the most loving feeling, While my heart instantly began beating for her and it immediately recognised her as its most endearing feeling, Now I live in this world created by my mind that is unaware it is obeying my heart’s fancies, Her thoughts, her imaginations, creating for me a world where she fills all my emotional vacancies, I do not mind my current existence in this world, where my mind thinks for my heart and my heart beats neither for me nor for my mind, But only for her, and when in both of them, I my own identity try to find, I realise she occupies every part of this world, where my mind and my heart patronise her alone, And I too begin to favour their sentimental inclinations with a feeling that is too prone, To fall in love again and again, with my own heart that loves her unfailingly, And then my mind doesn't mind loving her willingly, For it partly still lives for me, because without me what can it be, Just a mind that thinks endlessly, leading to feelings that it can neither feel nor see, So, it lets me be the master who depends on the feelings of his revolting heart, Finally we all are ring fenced by her feelings, from which now none of us can depart, And my heart beats one beat at a time, the mind thinks one thought at a time, while I live my life in single moments, I have to deal with my heart and my mind’s ever shifting sentimental arrangements, Where the heart always wants her feelings to be the dominant sentiment, But the mind knows then it will dissolve my existence and this becomes its predicament, Because without me it will be reduced to just a whim, that arises whenever the heart feels something, And in the kingdom of my heart she comprises everything, So, the mind fears its own identity crisis, because it is only her thoughts that continuously flow from my heart, But now all three of us realise that from beautiful thoughts none of us can part, Because to each one of us, she offers reasons to: beat, to think and to keep falling in love, And maybe this is what the wise refer to as a true and fulfilling feeling of love. So, I have left the mind alone, I let the heart beat for whatever sensation it pleases to, Because only then I admit to them both that I love her and I want to! And the heart happily beats for her, the mind only thinks about her, As they leave me alone, just to be with her!”

“Only with her - PART I Dealing with estranged feelings and the heart’s missing heart beats, Feels like a world that its horizon never meets, It maybe what one experiences in the moment of continuous disbelief, Because without her the mind finds no solace and the heart fails to play the symphonies of relief, As the estrangement grows and the feeling deepens in those prolonged spells of darkness, The night grows over the mind eclipsing its every thought with a slight crassness, Where it feels abandoned by the heart, because it seems to beat only for those estranged feelings, And ah the herculean effort for the mind to nurture the heart’s darling seedlings, From where the heart grows reasons to keep throbbing, and every flexing of muscle seems to be a harbinger of new emotional outage, And it somehow always convinces the mind not to let her feelings be cast into scrappage, The heart, the poor beating heart, suffers from this expensive essentialism, To sustain her estranged feelings in its love chambers and in the mind’s thoughts, despite their widening chasm, But the heart loves her unconditionally, and the mind too finally gives in to the heart’s will voluntarily, And now the heart beats for her softly as the mind once again begins to think of her so lovingly, Now both the mind and the heart deal with a different reality, That of establishing her memories, her feelings as the principal deity, But who shall hold her entirely? Because the heart loves her deeply and now the mind too loves her no less, And in their strife; I, who owns them both, has to deal with a new kind of stress, And I only care less, because in their desire to love her forever, the heart will beat endlessly and the mind will think of her ceaselessly, While I collate the extract of their feelings about her, and I live everyday in her thoughts fearlessly, And the mystery grows deeper, that who loves who, they love her, I love her too, and they know, But without them I cannot love her, and without me they cannot exist, this is a reality we all know, However, the desire to love someone so beautiful has made them my foe, and my willingness to keep living for her, Has encouraged them to exploit my weakness, that to always live loving her, As long as the heart beats, the mind doesn't mind, and as long as my mind only her thoughts creates, I too do not mind, Living in a body, where my own heart only beats for her, my mind only thinks about her, while I am busy living for her with feelings well defined, CONTINUED IN PART II.........”

“The fireplace The embers in the fireplace were dying slowly, And their golden sheen that fell on her face was stealing her from me, Because the embers that no longer shimmered resplendently, Faded somewhere in the fireplace leaving her cold beside me, Because a part of her had escaped with these golden embers, Her warm and loving heart was now in their custody, So I let my cold heart participate in some organic vitriol to lament their untimely slumbers, The sleeping embers and in them a part of her sleeping too, leaving me behind to face this emotional fatality, Where her cold part lies motionless beside me and beside the cold fireplace, Only to awaken when the embers burn once again, And her heart feels the renewed and a warmer pace, Hopefully the embers do not die again then all this burning will be invain, But burning is the fate of few, their only destiny, So, I am sure when it is time the embers will shimmer in their golden fire, Until that happens let me establish with her cold heart and her cold part, a warm fraternity, And feel the warmth of my every unfulfilled desire, In this hope I keep staring at the ash gray fireplace, Where the embers have died, and where her warm part lies somewhere, But whether it is cold or warm, her sensations with no other I wish to replace, Because embers are meant to burn in the fireplace and nowhere, It is a new day and the sun has not risen yet, But there is a pulse of golden waves forming across the fireplace, And outside, the rain that lasted the entire night has left everything wet, Except one place, my own space, I call the sacred fireplace, Because that is where my emotions burn with flames of desires, And now everything is covered in a warm and golden sheen, While my heart tries to separate flames from burning fires, I over her warm part in emotional relays lean!”

“The fireplace The embers in the fireplace were dying slowly, And their golden sheen that fell on her face was stealing her from me, Because the embers that no longer shimmered resplendently, Faded somewhere in the fireplace leaving her cold beside me, Because a part of her had been imprisoned by these golden embers, Her warm and loving heart was now in their custody, So I let my cold heart lament their untimely slumbers, The sleeping embers and in them a part of her sleeping too, leaving me behind to face this emotional fatality, Where her cold part lies motionless beside me and beside the cold fireplace, Only to awaken when the embers burn once again, And her heart feels the renewed and a warmer pace, Hopefully the embers do not die again then all this burning will be invain, But burning is the fate of few, their only destiny, So, I am sure when it is time the embers will shimmer in their golden fire, Until that happens let me establish with her cold heart and her cold part, a warm fraternity, And feel the warmth of my every unfulfilled desire, In this hope I keep staring at the ash filled fireplace, Where the embers have died, and where her warm part lies somewhere, But whether it is cold or warm, her sensations with no other I wish to replace, Because embers are meant to burn in the fireplace, else nowhere, It is a new day and the sun has not risen yet, But there is a pulse of golden waves forming across the fireplace, And outside, the rain that lasted the entire night has left everything wet, Except one place, my own space, I call the sacred fireplace, Because that is where my emotions burn with flames of desires, And now everything is covered in a warm and golden sheen, While my heart tries to separate flames from burning fires, I over her warm part in emotional relays lean!”

“God’s desperation There it was in the mirror, Her reflection that did not appear newer, Because it was from the past, On the mirror of present so well and eloquently cast, I walked forward to take a closer look, As I allowed myself to get caught in this hook, And when I looked at the mirror’s surface, There appeared her beautiful face, The mirror had turned into a visual spectacle like none other, Bearing all her past reflections intact and beautifully together, I gazed at it and then at her too, And the mirror reflected just her form, there was neither I nor any of you, Because it reflected what I had felt or known already, And it reflected these experiences in forms wonderfully steady, And in my past I always thought about her and only imagined about her, In the present too when I still perpetually think of her, The mirror creates many images, but eventually all of them converge into one, Just her, and always her, nobody else, and not someone, Whom my past had not known, That reflection in this mirror has never grown, So, the mirror that belongs to the present may just portray the past, But how does that matter, because even in the present you are my first thought and my wish last, Let the past end wherever it may please to end, Because my present will always find a way to bend, And create your reflection in every mirror, Because my past is mine alone, so wherever the mirror maybe, for me you will always be there, In the mirror, growing as a reflection of my every feeling, And now it seems that the present as well as the mirror are willing, To let my past be transposed over present and reflect you everywhere, Of this even the Heaven is aware, But what can it do, because for me the sky is the mirror now, And in it I just see you and I only feel our love, And for someone as insignificant as me, The Gods cannot destroy everything and recreate a new sky, so they let it be, Your reflections in all my mirrors, that travel from the past to recreate my present, And now my love Irma, we have the protection of God’s consent, A reluctant approval from the Gods to let us have it our way, To feel the beauty of night when it is a bright sunny day, For they have their own mirrors and reflections to deal with, So, they let me romance your image, that I love to be with, And I see the Gods desperately seeking reflections in mirrors of their own creation, Where they appear to seek some unknown vision of beauty, a feeling, a deep sensation, That I have discovered in my mirrors through your reflection, This is my joy and for the desperate Gods it is their only predilection!”

“The garden The garden, garden of everything, Where her glamour grows on everything, It is a vogue of feelings all, And how I love being with these feelings all, Her feelings, growing everywhere in this garden, Where she is my only beautiful imagination in this beauty’s own garden, Her thoughts grow as buds of joy everywhere, That wait to blossom as feelings not just here or there, but everywhere, And when these feelings bloom, I feel surrounded by her sensations and within them now my feelings bloom, Opening as petals of feelings representing a range of emotions, Her imaginations, her thoughts, and love’s all emotions, Then this garden smells like a nursery of all hopes, wishes and desires, And as her sensations fuse with my desires, The garden closes like a morning glory, And within it lie all my feelings submerged in her beauty’s glory, As I lie there in this blossom of bliss and garden of her beauty, The garden reveals its true splendour, its original beauty, And I see her standing there, and nothing else, Now she is the garden, she is an assimilation of all my desires and everything else, Then the universe does not exist, the world disappears; and just the garden remains, And in it she as its chief beauty grows, and there is what now remains, all that remains, Of me and my desires, and my all hopes, Because with her in the garden I feel no need for wishes and no need for hopes!”

“Amazing beauty After a while, that seemed longer than the longest moment of time, There she stood in her shy beauty, but now in its prime, It seemed sun beams bathed her soul, To make her a true personification of beauty whole, That is as beautiful inside as it is outside, And between these facts her true personality did somewhere reside, And I wanted to locate it and end my predicament, To seek for myself a new realisation, a new sense of fulfillment, That of loving someone who exists beyond the palpable dimensions, Even beyond the known scale of human sensations, Because whenever I look at her, whether it is day or night, I wish to touch her part of beauty that FEELS differently bright, because it is always out of sight, And today when she stands right in front of me, By diving into her eyes I wish to find her true source of glee, And when I dived in them with my closed eyes but an open heart, I realised, it is beautiful feelings and pure thoughts that to her their beauty impart, Now I live in them, with them, and maybe for them too, Because only then I manage to love her invisible beauty, her reality, her beauty true, So, I have a new address of existence now, her eyes, her thoughts and her dreams, Where I lie covered in beauty’s imagination and its beautiful beams, And this moment that I have been experiencing for infinity now, Is our well preserved secret of our feelings of love!”

“Horizon of love The sky was blue, and like always spreading everywhere, And under this blue sky, I knew she was somewhere, Where but, I had no idea, how far, I did not know, But I bore her memories and her feelings in all my emotions and feelings low, And sometimes when I looked at the sky, the sun was everywhere and so was the moon, I wondered and hoped if she were like them; these were my thoughts one placid afternoon, Then as I watched the sun set and kiss the horizon, I remembered her with my deepest passion, Because just like the sun that sinks into the horizon and disappears in the vastness of its waiting lover, In me sink her memories, her feelings, her thoughts, creating a world that is fairer, But filled with waves of anxiety, longings; and a lot of wishes that surface as bubbles everywhere, As they are burst one by one when I look at the red sky and imagine her there somewhere, Then the sun disappears, and what remains of it are just the dying shades of red, It is then my desires leave me, my wishes forsake me too, because into her world they now tread, Into the world that is red with passions and stretching wherever my imagination takes it, For now this is how she exists in my world: She in me, I in her, and our restless desires together cast into it!”

“Horizon of love The sky was blue, and like always spreading everywhere, And under this blue sky, I knew she was somewhere, Where but, I had no idea, how far, I did not know, But I bore her memories and her feelings in all my emotions and feelings low, And sometimes when I looked at the sky, the sun was everywhere and so was the moon, I wondered and hoped if she were like them; these were my thoughts one placid afternoon, Then as I watched the sun set and kiss the horizon, I remembered her with my deepest passion, Because just like the sun that sinks into the horizon and disappears in the vastness of its waiting lover, In me sink her memories, her feelings, her thoughts, creating a world that is fairer, But filled with waves of anxiety, longings; and a lot of wishes that surface as bubbles everywhere, As they burst one by one when I look at the red sky and imagine her there somewhere, Then the sun disappears, and what remains of it are just the dying shades of red, It is then my desires leave me, my wishes forsake me too, because into her world they now tread, Into the world that is red with passions and stretching wherever my imagination takes it, For now this is how she exists in my world: She in me, I in her, and our restless desires together cast into it!”

“Stairway of desires Loving you feels like loving my own desires, All of them; and this feeling of loving my own desires, Feels like a stairway of unending passions and wishes, Where you and your love is the only wish of all my wishes, As my heart climbs these steps, one at a time, I wish the stairs never ended, for loving you is the loveliest time, And when every step gets me closer to you, I suddenly miss you, and I sink in the feeling of loving you without you, For these might be the steps of desires and passions, But as long as they do not arise from you they are only lesser passions, That feel red, like the most beautiful red rose, But what is a red rose worth if it doesn't smell like a rose, So, I have stopped climbing the staircase of passions and desires, Because they lead to a conduit feeling which is alien to my love’s true desires, And if it continues like this, it will become my pernicious act, Where I will forever be climbing the steps of desires, because it is a never ending act, A staircase of passions and desires can last forever, So let me stop on the step where I am now, and love you as if there were no forever, There were just this step and just this moment, we call now, Let me know you today, just like I had know you yesterday, to love in better ways now, For who knows where the staircase might lead, But I am sure, my wishes and all my desires, just unto you lead, To you, to your heart, to your desires too, And let me wait to hear that you feel the same too, My penitent heart beats tirelessly, as if it has been cursed to throb endlessly, Just to seek that one wish, one desire, that it loves so endlessly, It created subsequent ripples of desires to keep finding a reason to throb, The reason to love you Irma, is what you shall find if you probe the melody of my heart’s every throb, So here I am standing on the stairway that is made of my desires and endless wishes, Where every step is nothing but a representation of my desires arising from my wishes, The wishes that seek you in everything, Even in the fire that kills the moth, because the fire of passions burns brighter than everything, Brighter than all stars, brighter than the moon too, You would indeed feel the same when you fall in love, someday you shall too!”

“With her and that someday He entered the quietness of his own mind, Where he could not be by anyone found, Neither by the rays of the bright sun, Nor by the deeds that seek him for acts still undone, But he lies in the silence of his mind, quiet and silent, Here he deals with million feelings, many permanent and a few transient, He thinks of her and her beautiful ways, In the darkness of nights and brightness of sunny days, Seeking something that would lead him to her, And then rest there, in that sacred space of his mind, forever with her, Time calls him but he appears to be heedless to its every call, The day invites him, but all its invitations collide against a robust wall, The wall of his mind that surrounds him permanently, Because there he likes to be with her virtual entity, Maybe he wants to escape from this state of morbid stillness, But in this stillness, a state of nothingness, he experiences a feeling of fullness, For imagination is the darling muse of every beautiful mind, And maybe there he lies with her, beyond the evil fangs of reality, in the imagination of his mind, Undisturbed by the evil intended men and women, Who always want to act in other’s lives as specialist foremen, Without realising winter can never know the feelings of the summer, And without having loved and lost, how can others think they are better, So they force him to digress and retire to his mind, and the quiet space there, A place that actually is nothing and nowhere, but for him for now, it is his only somewhere, Where love finds him because he always finds it, In her memories, in her imaginations, and in the strange devices of his own wit, So he has become anonymous for the world, but a sort of forced anonymity with a hidden intent, Because whenever I see him, I feel he did not go there, there he was forcefully sent, Maybe he is long dead now, and it is his ghost that visits this mind, Because he is obsessed with knowing the undefined, For most of us have to muster courage, But a few of us are born with it way above the normal average! And perhaps a typhoon of thoughts is on its way, Who knows when, because they murdered him a long ago, but his ghost is still seeking to resurrect him one day, that anonymous someday!”

“Stairway of desires Loving you feels like loving my own desires, All of them; and this feeling of loving my own desires, Feels like a stairway of unending passions and wishes, Where you and your love is the only wish of all my wishes, As my heart climbs these steps, one at a time, I wish the stairs never ended, for loving you is the loveliest time, And when every step gets me closer to you, I suddenly miss you, and I sink in the feeling of loving you without you, For these might be the steps of desires and passions, But as long as they do not arise from you they are only lesser passions, Which feel red, like the most beautiful red rose, But what is a red rose worth if it doesn't smell like a rose, So, I have stopped climbing the staircase of passions and desires, Because they lead to a conduit feeling which is alien to my love’s true desires, And if it continues like this, it will become my pernicious act, Where I will forever be climbing the steps of desires, because it can be a never ending act, A staircase of passions and desires can last forever, So let me stop on the step where I am now, and love you as if there were no forever, There were just this step and just this moment, we call now, Let me know you today, just like I had know you yesterday, to love you in better ways now, For who knows where the staircase might lead, But I am sure, my wishes and all my desires, just unto you lead, To you, to your heart, to your desires too, And let me wait to hear that you feel the same too, My penitent heart beats tirelessly, as if it has been cursed to throb endlessly, Just to seek that one wish, one desire, that it loves so endlessly, It created subsequent ripples of desires to keep finding a reason to throb, The reason to love you Irma, is what you shall find if you probe the melody of my heart’s every throb, So here I am standing on the stairway that is made of my desires and endless wishes, Where every step is nothing but a representation of my desires arising from my wishes, The wishes that seek you in everything, Even in the fire that kills the moth, because the fire of passions burns brighter than everything, Brighter than all stars, brighter than the moon too, You would indeed feel the same when you fall in love, and someday you shall too!”

“Stairway of desires Loving you feels like loving my own desires, All of them; and this feeling of loving my own desires, Feels like a stairway of unending passions and wishes, Where you and your love is the only wish of all my wishes, As my heart climbs these steps, one at a time, I wish the stairs never ended, for loving you is the loveliest time, And when every step gets me closer to you, I suddenly miss you, and I sink in the feeling of loving you without you, For these might be the steps of desires and passions, But as long as they do not arise from you they are only lesser passions, Which feel red, like the most beautiful red rose, But what is a red rose worth if it doesn't smell like a rose, So, I have stopped climbing the staircase of passions and desires, Because they lead to a conduit feeling which is alien to my love’s true desires, And if it continues like this, it will become my pernicious act, Where I will forever be climbing the steps of desires, because it can be a never ending act, A staircase of passions and desires can last forever, So let me stop on the step where I am now, and love you as if there were no forever, There were just this step and just this moment, we call now, Let me know you today, just like I had known you yesterday, only to love you in better ways now, For who knows where the staircase might lead, But I am sure, my wishes and all my desires, just unto you lead, To you, to your heart, to your desires too, And let me wait to hear that you feel the same too, My penitent heart beats tirelessly, as if it has been cursed to throb endlessly, Just to seek that one wish, one desire, that it loves so endlessly, It created subsequent ripples of desires to keep finding a reason to throb, The reason to love you Irma, is what you shall find if you probe the melody of my heart’s every throb, So here I am standing on the stairway that is made of my desires and endless wishes, Where every step is nothing but a representation of my desires arising from my wishes, The wishes that seek you in everything, Even in the fire that kills the moth, because the fire of passions burns brighter than everything, Brighter than all stars, brighter than the moon too, You would indeed feel the same when you fall in love, and someday you shall too!”

“Her sensation There I was inspecting the landscape of my emotions, Most of them appeared to be conduit sensations, With layers of feelings that definitely were a part of me, And in this place for a moment I wanted to be, For it reminded me of her, The feelings made me miss her, The emotions made me once again fall in love with her, And it was only in this landscape that I felt I was with her, Although it sometimes begot me sensations unknown, They never prevented me from recreating her beauty so fresh and so well known, It was a world where her beauty’s precision filled every void, The only place where to throb and then feel, my heart never toiled, Because here everything brought me closer to her, The feelings, the emotions, all reminded me of her, And my memories too, because they all carried a part of her, Here no time existed, no present, no past, no beginning and no end, because everything had converged into her, Her landscape of beautiful smiles, Her feelings that stretched for million miles, It was she who ruled this universe, And it was only here my heart with her mind whispered and could easily converse, Nothing could be as beautiful as her, All summer flowers, all the blue skies, seem to emerge from her, When you look at her, you realise everything belongs to her, So why shouldn't I too belong to her and love her? These inviolable feelings possess me gradually, And I take my last glance at this landscape lovingly, For now I too have become a part of it, And now the vision is clear, sensations aren't conduit, Because the landscape that represents her, I am a part of it now as I keep seeping deeper into her, Into her permeable heart, into the world that exists only because of her, And as my last cell sinks into her, I now feel the sensation that belongs to her, The landscape may have vanished now forever, But my love for her has experienced no sort of waiver, Because I love her for no reasons, for no interests, I love her for who she is, And in this long disappeared landscape I still find her there, because that is where my heart is, Even if it is a credulity that my mind suffers from, but as long as it is about her, My heart shall derive from it intelligible strings, just to love her, Because then nothing feels like this sensation, the sensation that belongs to her, Her name mabe Irma, but I love the woman in her, that beautiful sensation in her!”

“Her sensation There I was inspecting the landscape of my emotions, Most of them appeared to be conduit sensations, With layers of feelings that definitely were a part of me, And in this place for a moment I wanted to be, For it reminded me of her, The feelings made me miss her, The emotions made me once again fall in love with her, And it was only in this landscape that I felt I was with her, Although it sometimes begot me sensations unknown, They never prevented me from recreating her beauty so fresh and so well known, It was a world where her beauty’s precision filled every void, The only place where to throb and then feel, my heart never toiled, Because here everything brought me closer to her, The feelings, the emotions, all reminded me of her, And my memories too, because they all carried a part of her, Here no time existed, no present, no past, no beginning and no end, because everything had converged into her, Her landscape of beautiful smiles, Her feelings that stretched for million miles, It was she who ruled this universe, And it was only here my heart with her mind whispered and could easily converse, Nothing could be as beautiful as her, All summer flowers, all the blue skies, seem to emerge from her, When you look at her, you realise everything belongs to her, So why shouldn't I too belong to her and love her? These inviolable feelings possess me gradually, And I take my last glance at this landscape lovingly, For now I too have become a part of it, And now the vision is clear, sensations aren't conduit, Because the landscape that represents her, I am a part of it now as I keep seeping deeper into her, Into her permeable heart, into the world that exists only because of her, And as my last cell sinks into her, I now feel the sensation that belongs to her, The landscape may have vanished now forever, But my love for her has experienced no sort of waiver, Because I love her for no reasons, for no interests, I love her for who she is, And in this long disappeared landscape I still find her there, because that is where my heart is, Even if it is a credulity that my mind suffers from, but as long as it is about her, My heart shall derive from it intelligible strings, just to love her, Because then nothing feels like this sensation, the sensation that belongs to her, Her name may be Irma, but I love the woman in her, that beautiful sensation in her!”

“Love’s space In the distance, not too far but far enough, I had once seen her walking with someone, And that single, casual visual encounter was enough, To think of her always and that mysterious someone, They walked for a while and then sat under a tree, There they spoke of past while they were still discovering the present, And I wondered of my own future under the tree, Long after they had left, when I was dealing with my own present, I had somehow anchored my likings on her, My thoughts always felt her presence, She was there under the tree and I was with her, Although in reality she was exploring her own present in that someone’s presence, Yet I loved to return to the tree and be there for hours, Thinking of her and the future that could be, Her and mine, just ours, and then it would create for us unending hours, I so deeply wished if it could be, only if it could be, The tree is there, the stream too, I am always there between the stream and the tree, They both know it too, But what I wish for the girl and myself, the stream wishes for the tree, So whenever I am under the tree thinking of her, The stream flows by looking at the motionless and stationary tree, And then both remind me of her, Both the stream and the tree, Now it is winter and the stream has frozen, Just like the tree, motionless and anchored in eternity of nowhere, And in me, just like the stream, her thoughts and feelings are frozen, Because she now is the everywhere and everything in my emotional state called nowhere, Like the stream that to express her feelings of love towards the never moving tree, Froze itself completely and turned still, To feel the feelings of her darling and ever still tree, That even in her frozen state she loves still, in ways silent and still, So I share the stream’s irony or maybe I share the trees stillness, Its silence, where it quietly discloses that it never moves anywhere because it loves the stream, That always flows through its roots of love, and when the tree feels this romantic stillness, It decides to lie anchored on the banks of the stream, to enjoy his love’s accessible stream, And I feel the same for her whenever I am under the tree, Or with the stream that flows beside it, For she still exists there, frozen for my sake by the always still tree, And her reflection too is frozen in the running water of the stream, and I love feeling the wonder of it, All of it, the stream, the tree, she; and her frozen reflection in the stream’s water, And whenever I am here, the tree bends a bit, the stream slows her pace, And I see her beautiful face in the flowing water, the stream’s clear water, And then I too slow down my life’s pace, in this love’s own space, where time always loses its pace!”

“Love and time It was as if time had gone on a vacation, At least it was not there where I was now, Because there I could not feel her sensation, So it was a world without her beauty, thus a world without love, Time appeared to transition from one moment to another, But I could not feel its presence, For a while I thought I was in a world, that was some other, As my heart did not experience life’s romance, In her absence time appeared to be on a vacation, The world seemed to have come to a sudden halt, Without her, world’s charms had lost all their traction, And I wondered whether it was my or time’s fault, Everything and everyone moved, and life happened just like any day, But to me somehow time appeared to be somewhere else, Because it felt it was not here today, And maybe only her presence can convince me it is false, Maybe time has drowned in the past, Forgotten somewhere in her infinite memories, And my mind still recreates only moments from the past, And convinces the heart to keep beating for the sake of her old stories, Or is it that the present is an illusion of shadows, Shadows from the past, her and my past, And the present only from this past borrows, So I am in this illusion of timelessness cast, But whatever it might be, Whether time is here or somewhere else, She, her memories; are intact within me, And my every heartbeat still says, there cannot be anyone else, So, there is no need to seek time that has vanished suddenly, Because I have installed her memories everywhere, And now time has left me in my peaceful corner knowingly, So I believe, time is somewhere else, but not here, not here, And my love Irma, let me escape with you into this corner, Where time has no business, And just be your lover, And let that be my only business, For time will then lose its pride, someday, in that somewhere, where it has fled, And it will offer us it's rarest gift of eternity, Because my love, a rose by its own thorn is never hurt or bled, So instead of time, we shall live in the love’s sanity, Where time serves no purpose, Because everything exists for everything, There life offers no fake pose, It is then that love becomes a true virtue and not just a thing!”

“You and patterns Patterns, shapes and visions, all assume one form, That of her smiles, her deep eyes and her beauty warm, Moments, all moments passing by, and the very ability to experience time, Without her seems to be a profane act of mind, that becomes its inadvertent crime, Days, months, years and decades, chase a century still unrealised, But in all these variants of time, in every moment you reside disguised, As a feeling that leaps from every moment of time and imprisons me, So I lie stranded in a moment, and I cannot do anything, though I know it is not where it is meant to be, Hopes arise from somewhere in my mind, and become feelings felt a long time ago, And my heart follows the mind into emotional territories, where it should not go, And then all patterns, all shapes, and every vision assumes one shape, That of you, your beauty, and then this visual mirage covers me like a drape, Like a never ending veil of mist flowing over the surface of water, Concealing everything that lies between them, and the gently flowing waves in romantic splashes utter, Feelings they feel, and it is then feelings speak in a language that one can hear, And like these waves, my love Irma, my heart beats too; similar echoes of my passions bear, Then shapes fade away, patterns disappear, and only the vision remains, Now my heart does not control my mind, and my mind no longer my heart restrains, So I live inside a vision and you live all around me, And the mind doesn't care what the heart feels, because my heart has grown into a tree, That branches out everywhere, it has transformed into the tree of everything, But it still remains the tree that only bears one fruit and thrives on one thing, That of your memories and your visions, in all colours, It is then, my wandering heart ends its wayward tours, And I grow as a feeling over this vision of yours, Because now the vision is completely and exclusively ours!”

“Wings of passion She appears in flashes of past moments, In every feeling, in every emotion, in every sensation, but in segments, Where past always sails into the present, In ways surreal and sometimes too decadent, Until you feel you are leading a life that now belongs partly to the past, Where you felt her and kissed her the last, Then the present evaporates, leaving behind only the moments lived long ago, And the heart rushes there where the mind dares not to go, A past that has no end, because it always begins in the present, And then I feel covered in her scent, Now past too disappears and time does not appear to exist anywhere, Because now I feel just like her scent, everything and everywhere, And all feelings get recreated, giving birth to endless emotions and a new sensation, And from them I seek my moments of salvation, Because now she is the undying and never quitting sensation, Achieved after the ultimate act of emotional distillation, Where present disappears, past does not exist and only her memories appear as flashes of feelings, To become the minds refuge and the heart’s ever stretching wings, Leading it into the world where she is the sky, And in it and unto it, the heart loves to fly, And now she appears like the beauty’s self manifesting expression, In every feeling, in every emotion, in every sensation; as the heart spreads its wings of passion!”

“Wings of passion She appears in flashes of past moments, In every feeling, in every emotion, in every sensation, but in segments, Where past always sails into the present, In ways surreal and sometimes too decadent, Until you feel you are leading a life that now belongs partly to the past, Where you felt her and kissed her the last, Then the present evaporates, leaving behind only the moments lived long ago, And the heart rushes there where the mind dares not to go, A past that has no end, because it always begins in the present, And then I feel covered in her scent, Now past too disappears and time does not appear to exist anywhere, Because now I feel just like her scent, everything and everywhere, And all feelings get recreated, giving birth to endless emotions and a new sensation, And from them I seek my moments of salvation, Because now she is the undying and never quitting sensation, Achieved after the ultimate act of emotional distillation, Where present disappears, past does not exist and only her memories appear as flashes of feelings, To become the mind’s refuge and the heart’s ever stretching wings, Leading it into the world where she is the sky, And in it and unto it, the heart loves to fly, And now she appears like the beauty’s self manifesting expression, In every feeling, in every emotion, in every sensation; as the heart spreads its wings of passion!”

“Beautiful ways Memories with deep feelings, Are like always retracting emotions, They drop like sticky cob web hanging from the ceilings, And retrieve many moments filled with deep sensations, Sometimes they lead to poignancy, And sometimes they bring flashes of her sweet memories, And then the heart struggles to find its buoyancy, Because the mind willingly all these moments carries, Poor heart’s every perversion, Fails to convince the mind to consider the heart’s requests, the heart that keeps it alive, Alas the mind is a slave to her memories and her beautiful sensation, And without bearing her feelings in no other thinking avenues it wishes to dive, So the heart beats with a sense of precariousness, While the mind seeks her sensations, her feelings and enters a state of meditation, Where it only ponders on her feelings and her loveliness, And the poor heart becomes the victim of its own creation, Of loving, of feeling, of emoting, of beating just for her, And as the mind becomes unresponsive, I neither think of my anguished heart, my inactive mind, but just about her, and only about her, And wait and hope that the reality becomes a little bit sensitive and a bit more submissive, But destiny that turns the wheels of time and everything, Has its own plans to execute and fulfil, To it love, lovers, feelings do not mean anything, Because it obeys someone else’s heart’s will, For destiny is true to her emotions and her love affair, And I too then proclaim I am devoted to my memories and their every sensation, And loving her is by all means sensible and fair, For if destiny can do what it pleases, my heart and mind too shall seek their destiny in their most loving destination, So let destiny play its game and cast the heart and mind in time’s bottomless well, But let it know, that we all- my heart, my mind and I, shall fill it too with her sensation, And then time may bid to every other life’s pursuit its final farewell, And then mine shall be the destiny and I shall live with her in the world that will be her beauty’s creation, So, let my heart love her enough, Let my mind think of her always, For time and destiny maybe tough, But love and facts always find their new and beautiful ways!”

“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!”

“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!”

“Desert rose! Like the traveler who wants to go everywhere, Like the sunshine that falls on everything, I want to travel too, but in one direction, that can be anywhere, As long as it leads to you, because without you, the world means nothing, Like the desert I want to spread endlessly, Like the wind I desire to be free, And chase your mirages over sand dunes tirelessly, And then wherever you are, there I shall be, Like the desert let your love be clear and unobstructed, Like the calm of the desert let us spread everywhere, Then in this desert let everything else be restricted, Because I want it to be your representation everywhere, Like an oasis oozing from the bosom of the desert, Like the mirage of water to a thirsty desert wanderer on a hot day, Let your love just one feeling assert, That like an oasis you will flow through me everyday, Like the beautiful desert rose, Like the endless desert, Let your feelings of love within me repose, As I slowly, but surely into your devout disciple convert, Like it first my love, before you begin to love it, Like the desert rose then let me love you, And finally as I, my soul to you shall submit, Let me see the desert, the oasis and the desert rose, and eternity in you!”

“Broken boat! The small boat was anchored, where the lake ended, It stood there over the water and nothing at all pretended, The silently lapping water showed no hurry, Just like the still boat that today had no reason to worry, The boat, the water, everything appeared to be at ease, They had no reason to rush, and nobody to please, Just themselves and their anchored state, That steadfastly cast them into this feeling of never being tired to wait, Wait for the sunrise, wait for the moon rise, wait for the morning, Wait for the boatman, wait for a new wave, wait for the birds to sing, It seemed the boat and the lake could wait forever and for everything, And just like the boat I too waited for someone, that feeling beautiful, that special something, The lake spreads far and wide, And the boat stands anchored between this divide, To wait or to drift at the wind’s will, The prospect is attractive but the boat has a promise to fulfill, Towards the boatman, towards the anchor, towards the lake too, And towards something or maybe someone, nobody knows who, Maybe it is her secret affair, With the shore, with the security it offers her, While she is romancing the shore and it erotically kisses her hull, And an onlooker like me feels she wants to break free from this life so dull, But maybe she does not regard the weight of the anchor to be a boundation, For it holds her close to the erotic shore and it's wet and muddy sensation, As time passes by, the boat begins to rot, The kiss of the shore that enticed her and felt so hot, Was actually fooling her to feel what was not real, By the time the boat realised the kiss of the shore was unreal, The hull of the boat had perforated and crumbled, And as it lay there in this state of uselessness and now humbled, The shore no longer kissed it, Because now a new boat stood anchored there, and the shore was erotically kissing it, The boat has decomposed, and its wood drifts freely in the lake now, And it wanders endlessly to seek that real feeling of love, But in pieces, one here, one there, one somewhere unknown, In pieces trying to find love that it never had actually felt or known, So, whenever I see a broken piece of a boat, I think of you my love, and then with these pieces I and my feelings float, Where? Only every broken piece of the boat can tell, But unlike the boat, I feel our love is real and it is for nobody except us to judge and tell!”

“Anyway! Like a memory she does not travel, She just stays in the mind of everything, A feeling that is abysmal and at the same time makes you feel well, Almost like experiencing everything but feeling nothing, But her thoughts and her memories remain intact, A love affair of a different kind maybe, Where infinity is the witness and love that lasts for eternity is the pact, There is no other way for it to exist maybe, Or it could be my predilection towards her memories, That makes everything else less preeminent, And gradually one loses interest in all worldly stories, Because her thought is still fresh and omnipresent, Like a flower that you come to admire in Summer, And you wait for the seasons to pass by, To witness this flower again in the new Summer, There, anticipating and waiting you lie, Not for the Summer, but for the flower, And how unnecessary everything else seems, Almost like a desperate lover, Whose heart often her name screams, But the yearnings of heart are silent, And no matter how much it cries or screams everyday, It has no audience, except the helpless firmament, Where it is heard, but it can't do anything to help it anyway!”

“Forever my love! Patterns of her vogue, manifest in everything, The long nights and the sunny days, A thing not influenced by her, there is almost nothing, The feelings are visceral as I think of her sweet ways, But these are not patterns you can see, They are beyond what meets the eye, A feeling vanquished from the territory of mind and cast into the sea, Sea of feelings floating in the boundaries of the heart and lodged in the eye, The eye of the lover, who is least vindictive, Where dreams are the same, every sight is the same, For other than her memories and nothing is more addictive, As long as the heart is caught in this game, But time the greatest swindler and the most gracious as well, Steals what two lovers wish so dearly to preserve, For it has no love story of its own to tell, So in the stocks of past moments our love stories it does conserve, And as I dream of her and her ways, Time waits for my dream to end, It has stood there now for a million days, For I, with my every heart beat, my love for her defend, So whenever a moment escapes to be lost forever, I store its essences in my memory, And for the time I replay it again and again, creating a moment called forever, So I trick time and trap it in a moment that was meant to be temporary, And here I am loving her in a moment that shall never end, Time is waiting, and maybe it will be in this state forever, While my memories to my heart, numerous moments of joys lend, I become part of a beautiful dream that eventually will continue forever!”

“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!”

“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 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!”

“She! The gaze of night fell on her, She looked towards the moon, As I walked closer to her, As did the silver brightness of the Moon, Covering her in her silver attire, I stopped to witness the wonder that she was, Wearing the Moon’s silver attire, She looked more graceful than she already was, Then in the distance, the wind kissed few flowers, And bearing their scent it kissed her everywhere too, Now she smelled lovelier than all the flowers, And the most fragrant, wild roses too, The night grew darker and the moon grew brighter, And she shone like the sparkling, silver coloured gem, When she smiled, trust me nothing could look brighter, Than her eyes that bore the brilliance of the most resplendent gem, Sometimes when wind appeared around her to renew her scents, It ruffled her hair like a lover who is little shy, But tonight she shone with the beauty of nature’s bliss and its scents, While I with the night gaze looked at her bewildered, but least shy, So I held her hand, as the birds, for her, their songs of love sang, She looked at me and smiled, while gently winking her eyes, Where I captured the beauty of the skies, and then our hearts together sang, While I dived into her eyes and she finally accepted to forever dwell in my eyes, So I do not sleep now because there is no need to dream, Her dreams, her imaginations and memories bearing her scenes, Because in my eyes she lives like a beautiful sensation, that is missing in a dream, So if you see me awake during the nights, I am somewhere with her in my eyes, discovering her beauty’s endless scenes!”

“Painting of love This afternoon I saw a painting hanging on the wall, It was of a maiden in the prime of her beauty, The background was painted in rainbow colours, one and all, I had every reason to admire the artists sagacity, Her form looked perfect worthy of every appreciation, Her eyes interacted with mine, Her lips had a strong and intense red sensation, And from her arose feelings divine, Although she was just a portrait, A still painting hanging on the even more still wall, She was a feeling that moved through eyes into the heart without any freight, And in me, just like other mesmerised onlookers, she did feelings of “life in love” install, Maybe I only felt so, maybe I wanted to feel so, Because her eyes, her form, her everything reminded me of someone, And I imagined her in this painting on the wall, and I allowed my mind to believe so, As long as she did not remind me of anyone, or everyone, but just her, my special someone, So I sat there looking at the painting on the wall, I admired the salient aspects of her colourful beauty, And now I too was still, still like the painting and still like the dead wall, Now, not the painting, but the stillness it exuded had become my new propensity, Like a flower that is beautiful in the presence of the beauty that holds itself within it so still, A state where all conflicts are exhumed and everything that represents profanity dies, That is when this painting my heart does with million joys fill, And recreates her colourful visions within me, and now my life just on them relies, So, I often visit the painting on the wall, still hanging there, And maybe it will be so always, Until one day I find it everywhere, Because I wish to love her in a million ways!”

“Painting of love This afternoon I saw a painting hanging on the wall, It was of a maiden in the prime of her beauty, The background was painted in rainbow colours, one and all, I had every reason to admire the artists sagacity, Her form looked perfect worthy of every appreciation, Her eyes interacted with mine, Her lips had a strong and intense red sensation, And from her arose feelings divine, Although it was just a portrait, A still painting hanging on the still wall, She was a feeling that moved through eyes into the heart without any freight, And in me, just like other mesmerised onlookers, she did feelings of life and love install, Maybe I only felt so, maybe I wanted to feel so, Because her eyes, her form, her everything reminded me of someone, And I imagined her in this painting on the wall, and I allowed my mind to believe so, As long as she did not remind me of anyone, or everyone, but just her, my special someone, So I sat there looking at the painting on the wall, I admired the salient aspects of her colourful beauty, And now I too was still, still like the painting and still like the dead wall, Now, not the painting, but the stillness it exuded had become my new propensity, Like a flower that is beautiful in the presence of the beauty that holds itself within it so still, A state where all conflicts are exhumed and everything that represents profanity dies, That is when this painting with million joys my heart fills in the life’s unforgiving mill, And recreates her colourful visions within me, and now my life just on them relies, So, I often visit the painting on the wall, still hanging there, And maybe it will be so always, Until one day I find it everywhere, Because I wish to love her in a million ways, in the narrow lanes, on the byways and all the highways!”

“You and everything! Everything and everyone can wait, As long as you are with me it is never late, For it is the Summer flowers that ought to worry, Because winter always seems to arrive in a hurry, But when you are beside me, who cares whether it is summer or winter, For we can create anything as long as we are together, So let the Sun rise Irma, and let it set, let the Moon shine and disappear, Because in your presence anything can reappear, Let it be night forever or a day that never ends, Because around you and for you everything without any hesitation bends, Let the world incriminate me for my belief, As long as you love me, I need not know or feel any other form of relief, Let the world pray to the Gods or who cares if it is a Godless world, Because in my universe there is a Goddess who creates for me a truly God fearing world, So, let everything end, or let everything begin, For when I am with you, I care not, whether I lose or win!”

“Your feelings In a place where there is nothing to seek, Where your scent is the only worth pursuing streak, Of memories, of feelings, of old times, of you and me, A place where there is nothing to seek, yet you can be and I can be, A wandering feeling roaming the vastness of this emotion, Where everything is held intact by your memories and their notion, And in this feeling I lie wrapped within your warm feelings, As the emotion grows intense, I then am reduced to nothing, but just a scent of your feelings, It is a beautiful place, that is calm and too quiet, The same place, where we had held hands and walked and met, Not somebody, but each other, you and me, But now the quiet looms all over, there is just the memories, the feelings, all still alive within me, I often walk in this wilderness of emotions and memories, And I feel questioned by the rustling leaves of the autumn trees, As if they seek your whereabouts in me, in my eyes, in my gestures, But all my memories are signatures of our moments of togetherness, experienced in the vastness of the life’s pastures, Where today many flowers bloom everywhere, They all bear your scent, your colours, but you are nowhere, However, these flowers last forever, and thus they feed my relentless wanderings, And there my love Irma you somehow appear everywhere, and I repose occupied by your wonderings!”

“Illusions of a lover! Illusions have neither a past nor any present, They always seem to hang in the moments of the future, For when experienced one never knows what they mean or represent, But they always arise from the person’s conscience and the stature, As for those who are in love everything is an illusion, When with her even real appears more real, When not with her even real seems unreal, a sort of hallucination, A dawn of new reality where everything is surreal, Only her smiles, her charms, her kisses, and her deep eyes exist, And the heart seeks its indulgences in them, And ah how much like a wanton kid it does persist, To only chase her, and seek her as if she were the most precious gem, The sun peeps in from the still and motionless curtains, And the weary eyes open hoping its rays will bring her along, But then everything drowns in the loud calls of martins, Until every sound resembles her voice and her beautiful song, Then nothing exists, neither the Sun, nor the curtains, and not even martins, Only your song and your endless memories, And the heart dutifully warbles to mind these emotional bulletins, So, I rest my head on a pile of your feelings and bid farewell to all my worries! And now it is me and your feelings spread all over, The heart stops beating, the mind stops to think, For now Irma, begins the journey called forever, Where moments do not pass as eyes blink, Because the heart does not beat and the mind does not think, Making time irrelevant and unnecessary, And as in this moment called forever we sink, We now only seek what is necessary, You, your memories, your charms and your smiles, As this restful state extends into eternity, It marks an end of life’s tribulations and trials, Because now your feelings envelope me to create a new feeling of serenity!”

“Let it! It was lingering still in the air, Like a moment in time that refused to go anywhere, Her scent, and with it she seemed to spread everywhere, My heart had found her, though my eyes kept asking, “where, where?” The matters of heart that mind never comprehends, So to oblige the heart mind too pretends, And to oblige heart’s every wish now it its own logic bends, And ah the irony, that the heart in love never pretends, So I have to convince my eyes, my sense of touch, all senses of mine, To learn to be patient and wait like an aging bottle of wine, If they were to taste the feelings of love refined and fine, They better know it is the dear heart of mine, And if it seeks her in everything, Let it be so, and let it spare nothing, For it is the heart’s matter, the heart’s thing, Where sometimes, something resembles everything, Right now let it find some peace in just imagining about her, Let it behind the shadows romance her, Amble with her and serenade her, Maybe she is yet to accept that it loves her, just her!”

“Mind and the streets! In the streets and across the lanes, Where eye of the mind its every faculty trains, The body sometimes seems marooned and vilified, By the mind whose every quest it defied, Because the body travels through these lanes and streets, Obeying the will of mind without seeking any treats, But sometimes the body begins to question why, Shall it be the one that always has to undergo the agony and yet never be able to defy, So, it develops a liking for the dutifully beating heart, That obeys the mind till its end, right from the very start, And slowly the mind senses the revolt seeking the form of an uprising, And it tames the body in ways strange and surprising, In the final attempt the body treats the heart as its central mind, Then the body is everywhere, and now the only thing you cannot find is the ever scheming and cunning mind! So the body lives happily with the heart, As the mind gradually knows its actual place and its influence begins to wane and depart!”

“Love me Irma! Love me today love me tomorrow, Love me now and love me then, Love me when I wish not to be touched by sorrow, Love me when I want to be felt by you, my darling woman, Love me when the Sun has set, Love me when the Moon shines in the sky, Love me with your lips wet, Love me often and not just by and by, Love me here and there too, Love me for who I am and let me love you for who you are, Love me everywhere or wherever you want to, Love me in times of peace and love me the same in war, Love me when I am tired and sleepy, Love me when the Sun rays dance upon me, Love me true and love me deeply, For that is how I wish you to love me!”

“You and your thoughts! The vagueness of the future, the memories of yesterday and the promises of today, Remind me of you, everyday, and whenever it is today, In the last moment of wakeful mind before falling asleep, It is you I think of and you I dream of when I am fast asleep, In the view of the busy and at times relaxed world and the perspectives thereof, I look for you in everything, in its corners, in its open spaces, and live off the memories thereof, In the mind’s silence and in the heart’s endless beatings to keep kissing life, I listen to them both while thinking of you in my every passing moment of life, In the present that rushes to meet the future and shorten my span of dreams and desires, I smile silently because it does not know my life is but an endless bloom of your memories and your desires, In this moment while I am thinking of you Irma and my mind weaves a tapestry of known feelings, I wish you knew, I wish you realised, that all of them are our feelings, those beautiful bygone feelings, In the moments when I exist and yet feel maybe I don’t at all belong in the present, I roll my memories, I wrap my desires, and I slumber in the past, where you and your feelings are the only present! In this state I never realise when it is midday, when it is night and when it is today, Because now you become my only dream, my only memory, my only feeling and an everlasting today!”

“She is my purpose! Wandering along the pavement, Trying to find an agreement, Between my pragmatic mind and a romantic heart, And sometimes knowing not where to end and when to start, I let the wanderings continue, maybe forever, Because I am yet to reach a place called, nowhere, That infact is somewhere, But not in the vicinities of places known by me as here and there, So, I let myself love her for now, think of her for now, And believe in our love and its vow, And this revives my peace, maybe it does, Just for a moment, just for a while it does, Maybe it is in this moment I become oblivious to this place called nowhere, Because when I am with her, I just wish to be here, just here, And when she leaves, forever turns into never, and somewhere into nowhere, Then, though I am somewhere, I am still nowhere, still nowhere, So before seeking this place of bliss, Let me seek her and her kiss, Because it is then that everything assumes meaning and purpose, And it is then that my heart in the curiosity of my mind does find a worthwhile purpose!”