Four Days of Love

Day 1

You came.
You stood there in front of my dreary eyes one dreamy morning.
You touched and stirred up the fading echoes of love,
From the chaotic corners and cobwebbed windows of my heart.

Joy covered me!
Life will not be the same!
It will be beautiful!

Day 2

Every night I go to bed with my brain full of your thoughts. 
Every morning, I wake up from sleep,
With your images in my heart. 
When I close my eyes, I see your smiling face, 
I hear your voice in my ears, 
I feel your fragrance in my nostrils,
I can sense your touch everywhere around me, 
And when I open my eyes, you simply vanish away, 
Just your fragrantful memories remain. 
Oh girl, you are making me so desperate!

Day 3 

Let me write once again,
One last time!
About my unrequited love, 
The love that is neglected, 
The love that is rejected,
And the love that is soullessly trodden by a pair of high heeled shoes.

Do you know the pain that a delicate heart suffers, 
When you mockingly deny my selfless love for you?
You know how it hurts?
Oh, it hurts a lot!
It kills!

How could you be so cruel?
Just like every normal girl, you throw smiles at me,
You shower unfathomable affection upon my dry, loveless life!
And when you know that I am trapped, 
You simply walk away, 
Even without a smile, a glance, but just with a belittling nod!

You are a flower, a treasure.
You are beautiful! 
Your beauty is unparalleled!
You look like the marvel of marble,
So pure,
So ravishing!

Have mercy to understand, 
Not me!
But my heart!
An injured heart, that longs for you, since very long!

Day 4

People ask me, where is my girl!
I said them, I don’t remember, 
For, my memories about her are dead!
Those memories had undergone a very painful death!
After long long sufferings of suffocation!
Now, those thoughts are buried in a deserted corridor of my heart.
I can see there every morning, the tomb where her memories rest.
Everyday I make routine visits, peep at my heart,
And return with a painful sigh, having a glimpse of the decayed tomb of her memories!

Tomz :)

The Mystery Girl

(Dedicated to my friend known among
the bloggers as Cracks, who gave the
sudden inspiration for this poem
narrating about a girl he used to see
on the way to his office)


There is Mr. Cracks, a real life crack
Who helps me to break, the themelessness track
Now the theme is this, that of a pretty Miss
Who daily does not miss his inadvertent aerial kiss!

It’s the Thiruvananthapuram city, with morning’s gaiety.
You know its eminent deity, Sri Padmanabha almighty.
Where she stands daily, waiting for her college bus shyly
My friend gets her glance slyly, that she gives him daily.

You know this girl? She’s a belle, with lovely kiss curl
Like a golden whorl, gilds her rosy cheeks in roll.
Did you see she smiles? Ah, that’s like an angel smiles!
Wears churidar with frills, Does the black one for her inner wails?

Why does she cry, or pretend? For the young beaus to tempt?
Or is she really in lament? If so, what’s the cause of her plaint?
My friend Cracks, with tender heart, does not see her apart
Plans to a conversation start, and to break the rampart.

You know this guy Cracks? Man, you should know his pranks
With his existential remarks, his rivals, get some open attacks.
He likes social fillip and seldom breaks friendship,
Has no scholarship, though, he’s a man with some leadership.

Moving aside the city flock, my friend goes to talk,
“Tell me with no shock, with no playful mock,
Tell me hey babe you, with your shyness few
What dreadful thing makes you, to cry happiness in lieu?”

Blinking dreamy eyes, she tries to stop her sighs.
With a sigh she says, “Not any more, I can control this,
Hey you gentle jaan, I will tell you man,
What is in my lifespan puts my mind in san,

I will share you my sorrow, not now, only morrow
For there comes my bus in a row, see you soon you hero!”
Then she goes as planned, with her waving hand,
Looking back forth and like in a journey errand.

Several days had came, several belles came
Not our Cracks’ dame, came the spot that same.
None of Cracks’ team, thinks her as it does seem
Thus here ends the theme, like a genuine dream.

A Boatman’s Love Song

Let’s row the boat as one, oh my love
To an unheard far-far land,
Where seasons keep the treasure trove
And birdies aggroup a music brand!

The river, the oar and me, the lover
Fit the fiddle strings that you play.
But your absence makes it, Oh Singer
A stricken grievous fiddle in May!

Am I in love, or in fancy? I wonder
You tell me the one that true!
Till that I will put myself in wander
Nettled by your thoughts and rue.

Take on my hand at once, oh my love!
Else it will make my heart to bleed.
Drop some glance at least somehow
And that will up my heartbeats to speed!

About Nature’s Precision

Truly delighted I am
As I saw the bewitching
Glamour of the dawn, and
I said to myself, ‘Ah,
A fine morning at the door’

The incessant momentum of
Time makes the misty
Backdrop of sunrise
To appear at my doorstep everyday
With biological precision and
Supreme regularity.

And so, I began to think
On the Powerful force
Behind this day to day affairs of
Nature - uncontrollable to the human, and
Still it remains in my
question
Unanswered.

Eternal Melancholy

If I were a skylark

That flies with wings spreaded

Humming the eternal melodies, and

Carrying the poets’ fantasies,

I would have flown farther,

If I were a skylark.

If I were a soft breeze

Touching the mountain blues,

With the inherent chill,

Waking the veins by a gentle touch,

Bearing the dreams of wideness, and

Clinching the solitude,I would have blown

If I were a soft breeze!

To become a tune

That no one sung before!

To become a dream

That no one could imagine!
What If I were a mystery?

Or seclusion?

Abstractness or Nothingness?

To become the breath of the dead

To stay in the jungle of solitude,

Undisturbed!

To be a colour!

And a star!

To sparkle in the silence of the night

With the wildness of terror!…….…..
A human I am,

A creature..

The power to dream,

And to imagine

Stays with me!

Waiting here,

In this non-existence,

To take rebirths,

To become all these,

Till end up in a wild unity

With the eternity!

The Circle

I saw a dream in sleep last night,
And morning saw them realized!
Dream of hopes and enjoyment,
That shared the charm of solitude!

In the dawn I saw the sun that rise
And the mist drops glint in multitude!
The bird that hum by the Cuckoo’s nest
Told me the tale of nature’s bliss!

Total shine of the morning’s mirth
In step with the dream of yesterday!
And the hum of birdies’ fondness had
Shared the tone of the night in tune!

Noontime I left to the sands of sea
Where the sunrays bathe in twinkling wet!
I saw there the dimness that perchance
Due to the pass of morning’s grace!

The sands n’ Sea had striking solace
In the tune of night with dream n’ dark!
The glimmering petals of water drops
Wrapped up the depths of Ocean floor!

The evening time I spent in calm
With the numbness of the day in this end!
The moving figures that walk in front
Had not made anything in my mind!

The eve that waiting the dark in style
Wore the attire of gloom and shade!
The clinging cold of the nature be,
I suppose, made for the eve in special!

It’s the time of the sleep and dream
Has come as usual in the routine style!
The day and night have this much to say
To recur the steps of life’s circle!

The Princess’s Birthday Party

(Inspired from one of my dreams)


It was the Romantic Path
Again, this time too!
A heavenly Path,
With Cedar trees flourished
On both sides, and
Yellow leaves scattered
All through the tracks.

It was the City of Time,
The Kingdom of Dreams
And the heavenly Palace was ahead
To which I was moving.

I was a traveler to this city,
A visitor, uninvited and
A perfect stranger, who carried
The craziest thoughts of his age, and
The winged hopes with him.
Aimless, and helpless,
Foolhardy, and dreamy, with
Droopy eyes due to the weight of
The last night’s missed sleep, and
The unshaven face and shabby dress
With worn out apparels.

The strangeness was similar
To the city dwellers too!
They looked curious at the strange
Figure of mine, and
I too looked back with
The excited curiosity!

Soon, I knew, I too became
The part of the crowd, that moved
Towards the palace, ornamented
Highly with stones precious, and
Embedded with charming
Sculptures.

That current of the crowd
Took me to a hall in the palace,
The Diwan-I-Am, as it was called,
Darkened, yet illuminated with
Mighty chandeliers hung aloft, and
Lofty cherubs silhouetted.

It was the day of the Princess
That she turns seventeen, the sweet.
It was the party time for the invited, the
Courtiers, and I am, the uninvited.

There filled a soft music on the air,
And coloured smoke raised with
Fresh fragrances of Rose and Jasmine,
As everybody sat on chairs somewhere
And tasting the delicious, while
I too sat somewhere on the back
Less crowded and light diminished.

Arrival of the Princess, it was
To the hall played along by
Mates, who gossiped and giggled
A lot with the thunder of claps
In the utter amazement at
The beauty of the gown that she wore,
Ornamented and embellished by pearls,
The charming smile that made the
Courtiers mad, and above all,
Her gaze, dignified and majestic, and
Her eyes, graceful that drooped
A little downwards.

Walking through the hall
Among her admirers and
Without looking any, the Princess
Approached my side giving me
Some startle and embarrassment.
Straightly, wavering not even a little
She sat opposite me, and
Raised her eyelids to look at me
With her pretty eyes of inviting charm.
God, it was the moment that
The classics although the ages
Had praised a lot.

The charm of all lasted for a moment
As the images began to dissolve.
The palace, the hall and the charming courtiers,
The applause, the heavenly light, and music,
Everything began to vanish into thin air.

And still there I could see
Two bluish tinted eyes
Casting the dignified gaze
In front of my opening eyelids
Sharp and alarming and
Even prettier!!

My First Love Song

(Inspired by the picture beneath)

There hangs loosely on the wall
A picture titled ‘Romantic’,
A picture of a wooden path
With scarlet flowers scattered
On the black wooden tracks,
And crimson trees flourished
On both sides!!
A heavenly path…!!!

It extends to an infinity
Set in the middle of the canvas.
Romantic, as it called
And is full of lovingness.

Paths in general
Are of differences,
Path can be adventurous,
Tiresome,
Heavenly,
Melancholic,
Gruesome
And romantic.
This path is Romantic.

Is it the path through which a loving couple,
Who sought colourful dreams
Strode hand-in-hand days before??