I Never See Me!

I made a brief visit last day
To the places,
Which were once dearer to me,
And I traversed through
The familiar paths
With palpitating heart!


On my psychological walk
I saw a boy there in early teens,
Who smiled, and jumped
Out of joy, and sometimes,
Cried, shouted and sat silent.


My inquisitive eyes
Watched him curiously,
And I identified him as the younger me
Whom I lost once, somewhere
In the path of
My transfer to adulthood.


Amidst my dust-coated memories
I scanned for myself
How did I look? How did I behave?
Oh, these obsolete, nonsensical thoughts!


I never see me
And I was seen by myself,
Through others’ eyes, silent narrations,
And through the reversed reflections.


When would I see myself?
Perhaps on the day,
When time travelling gets possible,
And when I learn the trick of 
Psychic transmigration.

Familiar Paths

When we were children,
We trod the hidden paths of
The countryside, together.

It is a long time back now,
But those still flourish in my memories
Uninterrupted..

It was the time
When the echo of Koel’s shriek
Had made us to Jump,
When thinking of the amusing people
Of imagination,
We shuddered being enthused.

I forgot the hidden paths now,
Not listening the favorite Koel,
No more care for the imagined people,
I left my beloved nostalgia,
Back somewhere.
Don’t want to peep over the loneliness,
That occupies a solitary path
But, when walking through the paths,
Or riding the motorcycle
I feel everything as familiar to me
Familiar to my mind
Familiar to the extreme depths of my heart
I too become a part of them
The bush, the stone, everything
The plants, birds and flowers
The butterflies, everything
Familiar to me
I know them.

When reaches a spot,
I searched for something there,
I know it would be there,
And it was there,
A shrub, a stumpy one
Over the years, it survived the time
Survived the changes, Survival,
All are familiar to me

Dreaming the Dreams

(A continuation to 'Waving the Dreams Away'. Previously credited under the title 'Lines of Dreams, Depression and Rain'.)


Soon I got into some dreams,
As the rainfall patted me to sleep
With its soothing fingers
Amidst those olden dark cold nights.

I dreamt to brood then,
Hugging the chill within a nest
Built on a tree branch at a valley
Where no rainfall comes.

That was a time, unlike from
These nasty days,
When the Goddess Prakriti
Blesses me with full of sleeps and dreams.

Cursed are these days,
When not a night is kind enough
To give me some peaceful sleep or
To show some wondrous dreams
Even in these wet rainy days.

The tiresome long nights
Might have forgotten
To see dreams.

There was the childhood, once
Got in to the depths of my thoughts
Usually to dance graceful, and
None of such things does
Care about peeping my thoughts
Nowadays!

The past seems forgotten, and
The dreadful black granite tower too
Shrouds itself inside the clouds of Forgetfulness.

Elegiac Memoirs on the Childhood

(Previously credited under the titles 'The infancy-made forsaken structure' and ‘The Valley where dreams danced once’.)

A huge black tower
Sculpted and Storied manifold
Stood there once pyramid-like
In a shrouded plane
Shadowed by the steep mountain ahead
Encircled by trees and meadows,
And by black rocky lands.

Built by imaginations,
By dreams,
And by innocence,
This tower stood gallantly
Facing the sky atop.

On the upper floor
We born
Three children,
When stories, joy and
Intimacy ruled.

We went matured
As the time passes
And the small room became too small
For us three.
So she went downstairs
And she didn’t back,
Though we called her.

When her memories came
We began to search her
Beginning from the downstairs
With the desire to see her
And we left broken hearted
In the new room alone, where,
Brightness just peeped,
Spiders cobwebbed
And butterflies unnoticed.

We thought for sometime about her,
Our elder sister
And realized what happened.
She might have gone further
Too downstairs..

Our old floor diminished
In our memories.
We thought it as a dream,
A memory and a wonder,
And one, which exists too far
Faraway in the woods..

We witnessed our own dreams
Touching new horizons
We saw imaginations coming
And giving bows to both of us
We hugged them and smiled
With cheer, with surprise
And with bumping hearts!!

We moved to further
Downwards
And darkness…
As the time passes!!
In some nights amidst some sleeps
I was knocked by some broken dreams
Remembering the olden places
Where I lived and abandoned mercilessly!!

Final days of longtime boredom,
Waiting in impatience,
We were in the last floor.
Nothing could be seen around,
Even ourselves,
As it was darkness filled.
Agitating boredom,
We were searching for a peephole
To outside,
To light…

The smarter one found the door first,
And she said,
“’Tis the way,
Brother, you too come along,
Sister must be waiting”.
And she didn’t wait further.

I saw an open door
Where sunrays sank in.
Moments of hesitation,
I felt tears in my eyes,
Whether to go or to stay there,
I loved being a child
Loved to live cares free
In any of the stories.

One moment’s vigour
Made me to jump outside,
And I saw light everywhere
Green everywhere
And smiles too…
I saw the dimness of light,
Paleness of green,
Tremors in the songs
And the wickedness in smiles,
Artificial…

Where I found my sisters
They smiled…
I saw strangeness in their smiles,
It was not a smile,
And was the straightening of lips
In which the charm of intimacy was absent.

Fake appearance was everywhere
It was a fight between
The virtue and vice,
Strange sophistication caused by the internal fights
Suffocated me almost to death.

For the second time,
I saw my sisters again,
Remembering the old tower
And its premises,
Where we born and grown up,
I said my sisters,
‘Come, let’s go home’.

But they seem not remembering,
And they said,
‘No, there is no such a place,
Not a tower, and brother,
You must be dreaming’.

But I didn’t give up
‘Coz, there was an alarming memory
Still flourished in my thoughts,
Which consisted an olden temptation
That made me to jump
Through an open door,
A dream like one.

I was all alone,
I loved to be in somewhere,
Where I lived cares free,
Where the darkness was veiled
And the light peeped through tiny holes,
Where melodies overheard,
And tales being told,
Where intimacy dominated,
And Innocence ruled,
And where April collected the dry flowers
And December dispersed the chillness of wind.
‘The Nostalgia’..

The old valley,
Where dreams danced once,
The huge black tower,
Where light rays emptied the gloom,
I searched everywhere.

There at a distance,
Stood the tower
With all its majesty and charm
Over a queue of trees and mountains
Touching the sky atop
Surrounded by hills and meadows
And by black rocky lands.

I realized the tower with an alarm,
The infancy-made forsaken structure
The great grand one..
I approached it,
Laming,
And barefooted,
Tramping the thorns and bushes.

The small door on the base
Was kept open still
Same as we left it last time.
Panting and agitated
I tried to re-enter it,
But all in vain,
The door was too small.

I smelled the failure,
The same door gave me the way out.
But at that time
I was just a little boy.