Mama I see ants,
Over the shore,
all crawling there,
I do not see daddy here,
Why Mommy,
where did daddy go?,
his boots are gone mommy,
even Bujo is scared,
he keeps barking all night,
i saw stars so bright,
I heard thunders and explosions,
I see smoke,
I see flashes on the beach,
i hear people mommy,
i see them lying on beach
and i see blood from my head,
don’t lie down mommy,
Lets go mommy,
before the sun rises.
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Scriptures have said it long ago,
sages believe it’s divinely right,
the body dies when it’s time,
but the soul never dies.
It wanders the deepest valleys,
It wanders the mountains wide,
It searches for solace everywhere,
like it’s only birthright,
After searches made across galaxies,
with no solace found,
It reaches the almighty one day,
with no pride and no sound.
The almighty asks all the souls
a single question every time,
Did you lived with the body?
Did the body ever found a peace of mind?
Soul said it didn’t live,
It was dying all the time,
Because the body never listened to the heart,but only to the mind.
a thousand dreams were unheard,
of the heart and soul,
one gave up with the body,
one now dies with nowhere to roam.
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Some women are magic,
like untamed wild fire,
they creep slowly,
burn you bit by bit,
till there is no turning back,
this madness is an impasse,
This madness is love.
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Except from the “Rum Diary”.
She – Not going gloom on us ,are you? Sitting alone?
I – Apologies,nothing like that.
She – What is the book about you reading?
I – It’s Rime of the Ancient Mariner, was written by a junkie when he was 22, I am 24 now, I have been carrying a typewriter for past two years..I have written nothing.
She – Don’t say like that, you have written a few novels.
I – They have no voice.
“This conversation still gives me goosebumps.”
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A puff in,a puff out
paths closed,still i see a way out
it burns inside,so does out,
something liberates,I never know how.
I wish I was smoke,
untouched,without bounds,
To kiss the air,
with love but without a sound.
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Unjust is in the air,
I can smell it somewhere,
sky is full of lightning’s
I now feel a storm arising,
within me and the sky,
but the sky would clear,
one day or the other,
but my storm would,
consume me forever.
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In the sublime ocean of life,
where memories wanders as souls,
some float lifelessly at the brim,
some echo life even in the depths unknown,
In sheer darkness of times to come,
when the storm of time spares none,
obscure depths would remain untouched,
fulfilling the prophecies so blunt,
These are the last free souls,
of time unknown,
forgotten and stolen,
from lives of our own.
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Writings to Heaven 