Love

You cannot measure love the way you can the length of a rod or the height of a building

- Paulo Coelho, The witch of Portbello

No way out

No way out, no way out

From this dark dark circling mess

The more I struggle, wriggle

The more I get tangled in this net

There is not a ray of hope

There is not a way out

I just cannot go on hurting

I better put a stop to all this

When I try to cut loose

The knife goes to my flesh

My life oozes out

The net remains intact

I realized with a start

I still cannot hurt the net

This net is too dear

I loved at the cost of my life..

Can an error correct another error...?

That is what I am trying to do ...

Mirror

I gave him a Mirror

Clean, bright, shining

I could see my face and bright eyes

My smile reflecting on its surface

He splashed black all over it

Greased it with bright blood

Smeared ash of innocence over that

Then slashed bright orange and green dreams

The spectators oohed and awed

What a marvelous piece of art?

We have not seen anything so spectacular

For how much we could have this please?

His triumphant smile told me

 “See, a piece of glass minting money”

My heart screamed silently at him

“But I could no longer see me on it…”

GR, your wife sure was a most fortunate lady ...


With you for ever , I am here
Why shed tear , tell me dear.
From up above , I 'll take care
No more 've thee any fear
From the path we preferred , never ye waver
Unto ye nothing 'll be a scare.
Said ye yes to what said my heart
When a path together we sought.
To serve and love each other
Always our ardent desire.
What you say , I listen
Fear ye 'll have none
For thou art mine
For ever , for ever mine.

Do you remember ?

Do you remember what I used to call you?

Do you remember what I used to tell you?

Do you remember how I used to look at you?

Do you remember how I used to smile at you?

I still remember what you used to call me

Your words still echoes in my heart

I still remember the way you used to look at me

And when I close my eyes your smile mirrors in my mind

When world sleeps around me, I stay wide awake

In the middle of night, your memories

Brings only tears to my eyes and

A lingering ache to my torn heart..

They say “time is the best healer”

But why time cannot heal my wound

Each passing second makes it stronger and deeper

Sinking my conscious to eternal sleep…

They say I walk always in a trance

I don’t see even with my eyes open

Nor do I hear when they shout at me

Do you feel my pain, my slow disintegration?

I search for your face among strangers

I search for your name on all printed letters

I try to see you in people around me

Even trying foolishly to substitute others in your place

I am admitting defeat

Cannot go on anymore

I search for you day and night

Fully aware that you are watching my plight ..

LOVERS GIFT -  Verse No 32

         By Tagore

                          Many a time when the spring day knocked at our door , I kept busy with my work and you did not answer . Now when I am left alone and heart-sick  the spring day comes again ,  but I know not how to turn him away from the door . When he came to crown us with joy the gate was shut but now he comes with his gift of sorrow , his  path must be open

         Now GR takes over ( Tagore sits by my side and pats on my back  )

                           Here I am , left alone , all alone

                           Heart sick , sad and sullen

                           Rushes in through our door

                           The spring , in all its glory and splendor

                           What use of spring unto me now

                           As by me sits not my love.

                           To turn him away from hither

                           I know not how , my dear.

                           Again and again in the days past

                           To make us happy , the spring did visit

                           Immersed in work , I cared him never

                           Nor did you answer

                           To dip us in honey , in joys many

                           And to make our days sunny

                           Many a times did he come

                           Unto him extended we not a welcome

                           Now let his path be wide open

                                         As comes he with a gift of sorrow and pain