The Moonlit Night

by

silklinenb1

The very morning –
When the night is over.
And a poem was written –
With curves of lines,
Slanted, without shapes.

A moonlit night –
When the clouds,
Played with the moon,
Making shapes around.
Round and oval,
A bed of white cushion.

Also played the wind-
Crazy and stupid.
Cool it was –
In the feeling of warmth
When silent night embraced.

And a poem was being written –
With curves of lines,
Slanted, without shapes.

Over the rose petals
Formed the dew drops.
Unable to bear more.
Falling on grass.

A beautiful night –
It was.

And a poem was written –
With curves of lines,
Slanted, without shapes –
Of careless creases –
Written on the silk linen.

Transition

by

When a child is to born,
Everyone awaits outside,
To cheer up .

Inside –
The Mother cries-
In a room – isolated.
Of pain – immense.

The womb ruptured after,
Nine months of attachment,
Those days she have felt –
Each moment the foetus,
Safe and growing.
She loved it.

Then it comes –
The moment of detachment,
A new relation will be born
And she will be the mother.
But she cries of pain.

Every birth demands-
A pain – immense.
Only the Mothers do feel.

May be its the transition..
May be..
May be..
Only she knows.

Suggest and Get a Designer Card Free

by

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The Friend Forever !

by

Do you hear the sounds,
At the distance – the twitters.
Can you decipher the meanings-
The flipping wings says something !

Do you feel the rhythm in you,
Of those dancing bodies.
Do you feel the sync,
Of the vibration of the souls.

Can you see the light of – a blink,
On the old woman’s face.
Can you see the pains in,
The natural smile of a slum boy?

Do you follow the dreams –
Of some other’s eyes too.
Do you read the pains –
Hidden in your friend’s smile.

Do you shed few tears,
When you don’t understand,
Why do I return late ?
When time seemed long.

Come, hold my hand.
Feel the warmth,
Sitting silent together –
You are my friend forever .

Diwali Together…

by

Hold the hands –
Those who are in dark,
Candle lit paths.
Dear,move even its night.

Those who need a voice,
Whisper in the ears,
The caring words,
And the heart will pound.

Those who sit gloomy,
Hear them, tease them,
Releasing the smile,
Sparks in the face.

The light of hope,
The sound unheard – unbound –
And the wishes lets flow
Across every soul.

Happy Diwali…

Dancing Again…

by

Dancing again with the tunes of heart. Sometimes I surprise or better to say wonder – how an institution/organization do flourish. May be not a person in physical appearance but his/her philosophy, passion and the aura around – do carry it across. And such passion of passions travels across the persons.

10 months before – when I started the dancing classes, the biggest thing that evolved in me  is confidence, shedding the inhibition and smile.  I was such a guy – who never had a girl in his class after class 6 ! Why I am talking about girls is the inhibition that I carried from a small town.  How a girl can talk with boys so boldly – surprised me ! How the people talk so frankly yet with dignity.  Though stage appearance was embedded in me, but still I had to learn to communicate.

The artistic expressions and changing dance partners taught me something – that seemed necessary for a person to grow up. Its just something that I learnt from the girls/women – to grow up. And everything just remains within the disciplined walls of Dance classes. After that not many are in touch .

And above that Dance is deep down the soul – and Guru’s eyes must bless you. As my sister had been a classical dancer- I have seen her doing guru vandana before she danced. And touching the ears – when she had to pronounce the guru’s name.

The year started dancing – the whole year I danced, started from January to till date – all just changed a lot for me. Life danced – as it wanted. Legs danced as I wanted. Both danced and moved each other.  Professional confidence and personal upliftment just boosted.

Its not just dance but to understand the life’s expressions and expressing them in right way.. I am loving to dance again and learning to excel again in this metro with whatever I have … Thanks Shiamak’s dreams  !!

The Poet’s Soul

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Tonight – She said to Him.
With whom, She was in love.

“I am your poem.
Draw me – the shades of mine.
Feel me – like ever.
I am here – sing me.”

She slept with tears –
On the blank page.
Old diary pages has turned yellow.

He kept silent,
A puppet without soul,
Strings tied thy’s hands.

His pencil wished,
Decorate the lines,
That makes Her eyes.

His fingers wished,
To caress the curves.
The way the feelings swing.

His lips wished,
Sing her in the moonlight.
When Breeze binds them.

In the morning,
She lifted her head up –
From the diary,
Where –
The words – touched her cheeks,
Throughout the night.

The Kiddish Poem

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Some say – Crazy.
Other say – Thoughtful.

Some say – Smart.
Other say – Buddhu.

Some say – Lovely,
Other say – Stupid.

Some say – Uncle.
Other say – Beta.

Some say – Gentle.
Other say – Nautanki.

Some say – Innovative,
Other say – Mad.

Some say – Dear,
Other say – Friend.

Some say – Go,
Other say – Come.

Some say – Bhadra Lok,
Other say – Acha Bacha .

Some say – keep writing.
Other say – Stop nonsense.