On departure..

In two weeks, two worlds fell apart. Worlds that belonged to me, worlds I was an architect of. Worlds that tumbled my sanity and woke my dreams. Like all happiness , all meadows of sadness are personal, self-motivated and not to be touched. One creates pages of fiction and laurels of mystery with insomnia, without realizing how engulfing its claws are, how stagnant it becomes you and re-paints your eyes wide open. An objectivist hung on pathos, as a mode of escapade can crush sweet lemons for bitter ones, without qualms of conscience or regret. Each millisecond now would be a chronic weight on my frail existence. The apt synonym would be 'adios'.

Arabian wrinkles

Light unwrinkles my weariness
And eases the discomfort
Brewed in mojito, shredded into sockets of night
Thoughts gush in of an arabian holiday
In a different globe, veiled by tides
Of a sea embedded , fenced and staked
And as the light alights into the night
Dimming your shoulder, the glow worms in your smile
Thousand other wishes and valedictions
Die silently, beneath the waste canvas
Immiscible as oil of tears
In a lake of eroded logic.

The Stolen Caterpillar

Then came a day in the year of unremembered skies
You drew me a stranger; discernible semicolon
In a sea of cynic symbolism
Starstruck, stole your caterpillar.
Three weeks ; Ones of recluse and hiding
Butterfly flew one day
Away into the bleak sunshine
Her beautiful wet wings cared little
For cocoons she weaved
Feathers of time alight in my imagination
In my morbid denial to pass up cocoons
For all the cracked shells, enchanted flutterings,
On the palette of your indifference.

Song of stagnancy

I have forgotten words

The feeling when they eject off my vocal cords

The strange harmonic interplay with larynx

Oblivious of them all, but I imagine yours

In midst of my daylong slumber and numbness

How you would abuse my stagnancy 

Losing sublimity to a lonesome jazzy octavrium

Replacing it with another bass interlude

Akin to our hidden exchange of subdued misery

Two weeks and twenty three hours

I waited, to be baptized again

Seems like a lifetime of alienation

The little black book of your poems

Makes me a corpse of decadent wanderlust

Don't know why I colored it black

Any other color would fail to light the morbid hours

Of intoxication, of white december 

Streaming through the untreaded strait

In an arbitrary noxious way.

The Second coming

Let me trade the second coming
With your invisibility
And a mirror of fragrance
For the red lonely rose that blossomed
Only to wilt and droop again
- Requiem to its burdensome beauty
Stony eyes of the outcast
Can't quite requite
Social breed, the bleeding present
A snapped kite - dropping dead
Upon my marbled ancient twinklings 
Leaving no scars on his dear pentagon
Me,
A vertex
Of stunned silence and wrath
A misfit in the wheel 
Curse to the rhyme of tomorrow
Lies in jest
Crucified to infidelity

Last Rain in Santa Cruz

For the first time in six months
I heard you; Like the Bombay Summer
Your humid words made me uncomfortable
Wanted to move aside, pass a little humor or two
You despised humor, ones that masked my infidelity
Now you detest the pages of 'Inferno'
The elephant stands still
Glaring in the corner of grey
Blowing like a mundane SriLankan elegy
Divorced to be locomotive again
Or an agnostic lover of dark;
I still read 'Paradiso'
Shamelessly as once I did in Vijaywada -
I was fifty miles away from Binghamton
When I looked over downtown Ithaca
A microphase of colorful shadows
It lended me a respite from guilt
Lets take a walk along Parisienne walkways
Perhaps for the last time
Thick as a brick we will bid adieu
In the simplest of gestures
Trading rusts and wrinkles.

Two Minutes

A sluggish phase of two minutes
While wandering through the Mediterranean sundance
The fleeting loom of my watch
Deceived the pattern
Just when the cradle of uncertainties
Could redeem time
Incite few ceaseless wrinkles
That time failed to blend

Lost in translation?

What gained in life, what lost
At crossroads we meet, at crossroads we part
Grasses entwine , leaves dry
But no grouses left
Despite deceit at every step
Upon my histories I gaze
My chest of memories I ruffle
In soliloquy..

I have lived for time unknown
In a world of a few billion years
Life, my endless story
Limited to finiteness
Yet I was promised eternity
Yet it is enough for me
To every knock until the last
I shall open my doors
In soliloquy...

Life and death in incessant cycles
Life is but a gypsy halt
Here today, where to tomorrow?
I fly with no destinations
Who knows where the day will dawn
Darkness spans infinity
Testing the life force
Weary wings disperse
Our paths cross
In soliloquy....

Translated from Hindi -- "Kya khoya kya paya " written by Atal Bihari Vajpayee

"Akashe jyotsna.."

Sky suffused in moonlight

Floral path basked in leopard hues

My heart, a deer in the silence of the night

Knows not where its heading

My body, veiled in the silvery shadows of the leaves

Sees no deer around

And farther I go

Moon appears like a sickle, in its bent semblance 

Devouring the last deer-grain of the wheat meadows

And then, 

Slowly slowly, sinks in the horizon

Into the darkness of slumber

In the eyes of hundred souls

~Translated from bangla,

source : "nee parththa" , from "Hey raam"

Rainy September Night

I remember Tollygaunge
A rainy september night,
Alone in my prejudice
Sluggish in the drenched kurta
No one around, just a dark september night
And depraved me
He promised, and I hoped
the night to be darker
And his lonesome arm clutching me
The vanity that attracted me
The wrath that stole my reality
And I diffused
Sans awakening, a desire
Only to be clutched , held again
To taste again, his nictotine stained lips
The eyes that spoke of dreams
And other nine million lies
Lies that I adored more than truth
Bereft I walked, amid the rainy september night

~Arinjita

Psychedelia

A littered haze of eiderdown
Maiden sea of limpid green
Screaming into the open sky

A tender sound of blue
scattering the far away speck of gray
Frantic as jazz the waves deform

Mellow sea unbreaks quiescence

And,

Summer drips down from sky