Play and Replay

An uneasy silence
inches forward, with advancing claws,
towards the afternoons, mornings and nights,
The music is withdrawing the season of  flowers
from the breast of the long hours.

Familiar streets had become 
bouncing spring paths,
they will turn familiar again,
who knows,
The heat will burn the back and 
friendly voices will not be able to give a shade.

These deaths are familiar
but dying is a new pain,
The darkness that it brings will last till next rains,
or next summer
when again the eyes will look into the pit of the long day
and would see from a distance
and mumble,
one day the whole unfolding again and again,
will end,
and with it, the births and the deaths.
Till the days linger 
and drag around incomprehensible truths
and unwinding webs of events
slow and exhausting, 
Go and sit by the water hole, 
and look at the reflection of the floating clouds
and hear the meaningless yet engaging cacophony 
of birds.

Earth, our Mother, a Safer Place in to be

                                                       

The clouds had appeared

and we waited for rain, but not a drop fell,

The shoot and dust on the leaves

grew thicker and the air heavier

with emissions.

They cut the beautiful Neem tree the other day

Where the man in a soiled turban sold

sugar cane juice and chit-chatted with

the boy with a cartful of bananas.

The roads are wider now and smoother

The sun’s rays fall and bounce back to the lives

that move or run on them.

The trees are gone, all of them, with nowhere to stand

and to wait for departures and arrivals.

The other day, the hills in my city were in blaze

Some men started a fire for something,

and it killed so many trees and animals

and spoiled the homes of the birds and

the smaller beings.

The river in your village is running dry,

But in rain also we caught wrappers, bottles,

Plastic and dead fish in those dark and dirty waters

And choked on the thick effluents

That the plant nearby put into it

day after day.

The papers are telling

that we will start dying sooner

Or be diseased of this air, this heat,

this water and these poisons we let

into all the good things God had made.

Should we not then

Be done with ruining things!

And make as many trees from earth,

As much water from rain

And put the plastics into recycle bin?

Sure it makes us stronger,

Can’t we walk to the nearby shop

and cycle down the road to school?

With the breeze singing in our wings

and our hearts on a roll?

Let’s make the trees invite rain

And the blades of grass dream of dew drops

Let the green hills block the path of clouds

And let the rivers carry pure water

and make the good crops.

Let our skies be free of spirals

Of smoke our air poison free

Let’s make our earth, our mother

A safer place in to be.

 

Darkness and Light

Eyes fell on the huge building,
abandoned , dark and deserted,
I was reminded that it was just like my inside, 
empty and lonesome,
dark with pain,

contemplating apparent departures

self-imposed loneliness,
and the after-life in that hitherto 
brightly lit chamber,
vacated by someone dear,

As I looked at the coconut trees beyond 
green and swaying,
I realized that I will have to 
open the doors and windows and welcome 
the sun,
instead of dying of imaginary loss.
Someone has recently taught me to smile
and I will have to give it back 
until I am spent.

I will have to hold onto truths besides,
and wade in the restless waters
until the lies lose their shimmer and
vanish into the murky depths of the parallel 
world, of age-old lies and
handfuls of dirt.