ETERNAL FRIENDS

Our souls are tied in divine string of affection,
Minds are married without any ritual and celebration.

Even though, we parted amidst misunderstanding and confusion,
I remain confident that we are as before in our ethereal union.

The sky of our flight is still the same as before,
Reading and writing verses in each other's admire.

We still peep at each other's direction  stealthily,
Still glimmers of smile appear on the our lips spontaneously.

Two hearts still beep for each other silently,
Two minds still pray for each other's wellbeing sincerely.

Tell me, will you still say all is ended between us?
I should say, our bond has taken a divine toss.

Your spirit.

I saw your portrait,
You displayed in public state.

Happy to see your beauty got huge admiration
Sorry to say I didn't spare a single word of appreciation.

You might be sad and hurt with it,
Maybe you assume me as an idiot

How can one takes his eyes of a your portrait
Being your ardent adorer and a poet,

Pardon, pardon me my compassionate sweetheart.
In your mortal and changeable body I didn't ever had any interest.

I had seen it's owner a beautiful heart,
That in each of my verse I did worship and appreciate.

My love is deep, pure and pious always for your spirit.
Hence I castled it eternally in my heart with much respect.

Maybe tomorrow your body will  vanish out of my sight,
I swear, I will continue to worship your soul that is in my heart.

BLOCKED

My love expected more intimacy,

Ear wished to hear you the whole day,

Tongue told that in an authoritative way,

You got irritated and went away

Blocking all the means of our communications.

 You did not think,

How will my eyes open,

Without your good morning message?

Whose laughter

Will fill my day with the rays of delight??

Who will call me ‘stupid’ ‘nonsense’

Out of false-fury in our romantic interactions???

Who’s good night wish,

Will make sleep reign my eyes?????

Good or bad howsoever they are;

Mornings come, become days,

Then evenings, then nights.

Days pass on, months roll on.

My room remains dull,

Without its acquainted laughter,

Eardrums dry up,

Without hearing your honeyed scolds.

Sleep comes to my eyes every night,

Tossing sides, changing position of pillows,

Only when my soul whispers in my ear,

That she will come in the morning.

Blasting all the barricades.

That hope, that trust in you,

Make me live until now.

YOUR PRIDE

Forget the road to my hut,

Do not visit me,

Close the doors and windows of your fort,

Do not allow me to see you.

Block my number

Do not talk to me,

Forget my mail box

Don’t read the verses I write in your glory.

I will bear them anyway

Accept the pain of detachment as my destiny

But I will not tolerate,

At any cost, in any condition

a single dust particle,

on the surface of my Kohinoor

a single soul look towards my Ganges,

With eyes of dishonour,

a single drop of tears,

in the eyes of my goddess any day.

Because your smile, pride and glory,

Are much dearer and desirous to me

Than even you, yourself my sweetheart!!!!!

BEAUTY LIES IN OUR EYES

For one, you are a scenic beauty,

An expression of thirsty youth,

An alluring smile of a sensuous worth,

An appetizer for his external senses,

A fun stuff for his corrupt stances.

For me, you are a gorgeous soul,

Shapeless, sacred, vibrant, eternal.

A stupendous drop of nectar,

From the divine pot of the creator,

That I versify with sincerity and honor.

It’s a stunning feature of human nature,

Two people took into the same picture,

One reads the outward expression,

Another clips divinity with his elated vision,

The truth behind this contradiction,

Is that beauty lies in our eyes.

NOTE---This poetry is about how some men look into women.

LOVE IS WORSHIP

Love is worship,
And I have worshiped,
normally worshiping is done

with bowed head,
I never raised my head.

Do as you wish,

with my bowed head

its humbled
Kick it with your feet,

or pick it with your kind hands.

tears from my eyes

 rolled down my cheeks

never mind I didn’t cry,

they are marks

of my deep devotion

stay assured,

my tongue and my pen,

all are devoted like my soul,
They will sing your glory,

in every condition.

IMPOSSIBLE

It's possible that the Sun and the Moon                  

                       Exchange their timings and places,

But it’s impossible for me to have a wish

                      Of my own against your happiness.

Possible that all the marine creatures

                 Leave water bodies and fly in the sky,

But its Impossible that I become a reason

                              Behind the tears of your eyes.

It's possible that the trees raise

                      A mutiny against deforestation,

But it’s impossible that I stop

              My worship and selfless benediction.

It’s possible that all the rivers originate

       From oceans and reach mountain peaks,

But it’s impossible for me to give a place

                   To another woman in my verses.

Let Napoleon Bonaparte thoughts,

                                   Count me among the fools,
Going away from you and forgetting,

                       Your role in my life is impossible.

HUMBLE REQUEST

Get me bitten by a cobra,

Then by a tarantula,

Then, stung me by some killer bees,

And throw me into a thorny shrubbery.

If still you are not pleased,

Fry me on a hot mustard oil pan,

Dip me in a gasoline jar,

And then throw me into a burning fireplace.

If you are still not satisfied,

Wrap me without cloth among ice bars,

Keep me in your deep freezer,

Take me to the North-pole, bury me there.

But my humble request to you is that,

Do not punish me with a separation from you.

EQUAL

Crying for you,

is a matter of pleasure,
suffering in love

is a matter of comfort.

When tears and pain,

pleasure and comfort,

all are  connected to

the goddess of my heart,

and my adoration for her,

then why to worry over,

what and how much I get,

what and how much love deliver.

Hence all of them,

are equally acceptable for me.

and are equally adorable for me.

Top of Form

Bottom of Form

When I cry for someone or take pain for someone means I love her so much. So crying and taking pain are pleasurable as they are parts of adoration

When god gives u something ( sorrow or happiness) it should always be acceptable to u because u love god. Saints and true lovers don't differentiate between sorrow and happiness.

Who says you are gone?

Who says you are gone?
How from me you can begone?

I imprison you in the castle of my heart,
Feel your presence with every heartbeat.

You constantly run through my vein,
Your rollick in them excites me every now and then.

You are settled permanently in my eyelids,
Awakes with my open eyes, rests with my eyes closed.

You are not gone, you can't go,
I will not allow you to go.

Come out

Who said you are bygone,
I know you, are present behind the curtain.
Being prankish you wish to tease your man,
And hiding is a part of your game plan.
Maybe you wish to augment my yearnings,
And for that this gimmick you think.

The air is bearing your fragrance
your warm propagates  your presence.
you too are not so cunning in hiding,
I am hearing the noise of your earring. 

Now come out sweetheart,
Before its too late,
Before the moon hides behind the cloud,
Let us bath in her silver beam,
Let us enjoy our romance in them.

You are my present

You said you are my past,
And past can't be present.

Dear silly heart it up to your discretion,
you can take your eyes off from my directions,
Can deprive me of your compassion,
Can remain aloof  from considering my pain.

I can be absent in your sphere,
But can you take yourself out of from my core?
You have become the vibration of my heart,
Can you stop pulsating in it?
You are running among the fluids of my vein,
Can you withdraw your participation?

Your such efforts will convert my heart into scraps,
Create rampage in the flow of blood in my nerves.

So don't dare, if you have something in you for me,
Be it love, sympathy or humanity it be.

SERVITUDE

People often live in misconception,

That they are the masters of their emotions,

Pilots of their flights,

Regulators of their wings.

But the truth is something different,

For you, it’s unacceptably unpleasant,

That everyone in this sphere,

Is in servitude to one trait or the other.

Some are servants of earthly possessions.

For them life is no other than that endless run

Some others embrace slavery of chair and power,

Bargaining virtue and character.

Some others run after fame and appreciation,

Wish to get them even by buttering or recommendations.

Some surrender themselves to servitude of intoxication

Search the colors of life in drugs and alcoholic consumption.

Some are slaves of sensual and beastly thirsts,

their life pass in dirty pursuit of  fun and flirt.

I feel proud to admit that I am in servitude of an idealistic soul,

Honest, truthful and devoted towards a pious soul.

THE MIRROR

You see the mirror,

become worried about

the dark circles under your eyes.
the growth of wrinkles on your face.

Your botheration is about

your mortal body progressing against your pleasure

towards the inevitable old-age and decay.

your beauty, youth,

their shining, fading,

for which you are excited or bothered,

are all your unnecessary thoughts.

Neither they are your creation,

nor you can stop their progression.

your concern and caring

do not have any  control over evolution.

then why to bother? 

You need to see your reflection,

in the mirror of your conscience,

and become happy that you are not untruthful,

your deeds never hurt other’s emotions
your decisions are selfless and philanthropic,

you gathered the whole world in your heart.

This much will go as your preordination

with your soul when your body will mingle with the dust.

THE PRESENT WITHOUT YOU...

You wish me to forget the past,
Our good days,our sweet chats,
And enjoy present as it comes,
Plan my future without your presence.

Stunningly for your contentment,
I enjoy to the fullest my present,
With my eyes full of tears,
Heart full of past memories of yours.

The present without your  memories,
Without the presence of our love stories,
Will come to my door,my dear;
Only when I will pass away from this sphere.

YOUR EYES 2

Killers are your eyes,

Whosoever comes to its spell dies,

Whoever comes within the range of its merciful glance,

Or from whomever you withdraw your stance,

Meet the same fate,

Torturous days and nights.

Your eyes are fire,

They burn alive whosoever comes closer,

Be him your ardent enemy and a competitor,

Or even an innocent, benevolent worshiper.

Can any mortal come safe out of combustion?

God save me, I knowingly venture into this prohibited region.

Funny are your eyes,

They threaten to withdraw their sight,

From him, who they wait keenly day and night.

Shut down when they meet their counterparts,

But gaze at them, when they pull out,

Disloyal at times to tongue, but honest always with the heart.

Strange are your eyes,

The deeper I dive into those twin oceans,

The remoter the bottom remains,

The more I search particles of love for me in them,

Like a mirage the truth slides away from my detection,

Let me sink in them one day, I will remain ever in my mission.

WHEN YOUR GOOD MOOD CHANGES...

Your mood is unpredictable,

like the weather of a deep sea,

pleasant and favorable now,

the very next moment,

the firmament gets encircled,

with dangerous and devastating stormy clouds.

When your good mood changes its color,

your eyes become red with the reflection of lightning,

the pitch of your voice appears strange,

your words hit my eardrums like thunder,

then I reach the condition of that boatman,

who continues to pray the unseen almighty,

while waiting for the storm to settle.

Uff, my mobile switches off,

Computer hangs off,

Mouth, ears and eyes shut up,

My pen dries up, uff.

WHEN YOU ARE IN A GOOD MOOD

When you are in a good mood,

I feel myself to be the luckiest man in this world.

Words from your tongue come with flying colors,

I hush to swallow those honeyed chatters.

Surrounding burst with your openhearted laughter,

my soul gets excited with sublime pleasure.

In your eyes twinkle hundreds of stars,

my eyes dazzle with their splendor.

Rainbow gets ornamented even on the sunbathed sphere,

youth gets back to deadhead rose flowers.

Cuckoo begins to blow flute out of nowhere,

leafs stop flapping to stare at your splendor.

When you are in a good mood,

my poetic sagacity proves feeble to weave that in words.

You are different

It is darkness,deep darkness,
regime of untruthfulness, selfishness,
disbelieve, deceitfulness all around,
a wild run for procurement is on the ground
humane values are rare to found.

Impatiently I am in search of a light,
a like-minded principled human bright,
who loves truth, openness as me,
in this juncture you come before me 
and I see a glinting divine ray in thee.

The dead trees of hope got its root and branches,
flowers of love began spreading its fragrance,
my heart filled with excitement,
you are the one I seek with all my intent, 
and I begin to believe that you are different.

With the wheel of time moving on,
with the changed circumstances you are gone,
but I hold that particle of your light,
in my core with much love and respect,
as for me you are extraordinary and different.

From that day...

My vibes once whispered,
some sweet, romantic words,
knitting your name in that,
in my ear, enthralling my heart.

My tongue hesitated to utter,
my pen trembled to mutter,
before you about the matter
but how long I could have hidden, how far?

After all, life doesn't prepare,
me to live like a pretender,
the almighty doesn't tutor
me to deal like a swindler.

One day, gathering a lot of bravery, 
hesitantly and apprehensively,
I stammered before you my interior, 
confessed that I made you the empress of my core.

From that day my verses sing your glamour,
I have became your ardent worshiper.

This world, a theater

In this world, a large theater
souls descend wearing costumes of bodies,
to act in different roles,
as assigned to them,
by the eternal producer, God.

Characters decide,
the scripts for themselves,
act according to their wishes, whim,
and that freedom makes some of them,
arbitrary, unscrupulous and lawless.

They forget, that the producer,
keeps an eye on them,
a record of their activities,
good or bad,
From behind the screen.

Not that they are unaware,
not that the prompters don't warn them,
that they are responsible for their deeds,
that they all are answerable,
to Him once they leave the stage.

But the glitter and glamour of the stage,
the intoxication of the rights and roles allotted to them,
blind their vision, cover their wisdom,
until it is too late, until their time expires,
to rectify the blunders committed.