There

Like
fair play in the world;
'b' in subtle;
reason in love;

Like
sight in Soordas and Homer;
'sense' in nonsense;
intermolecular space in solids;


Like
stars during the day;
meaning in life;
God in an idol;

Like
righteousness in Right;
feasibility left in Left;
equilibrium in Centre;

Like
Change wrought about by time,
day by day,
in things sub-lunar;

Like
my literary talent;
escape in sleep;
beauty in death; 

Like
Eternity in a moment;
Cosmos in a granule of sand;
truth in what poets write;

Like
Radhika in Bhagwatam;
Sensation of pleasure
and pain in a dream.

Like
the sixth Pandav;
originality in Shakespeare;
and efficacy of prayer.

Like
the weight of air,
you, O beloved! are always
there yet not there.

~aviD

Laughter

Smile gathers
around your lips
slowly
and then becomes
laughter,
all at once,
like the new season
which slinks in,
day by day, night by night,
and then ushers in,
all at once.

~ aviD

"No pic, no reply"

I said:
My mind forbids
pinging you
but my heart doesn’t comply.

All they said was: “no pic, no reply.”

Pictures are not people;
People are not pictures.
Understand.
At least try.

All they said was: “no pic, no reply.”

We could make it meaningful,
deep, lasting and beautiful.
Let us take this beyond
the mere demand and supply.

All they said was: “no pic, no reply. ”

Together we could share
our lows and our highs.
We could laugh together,
maybe even cry.

All they said was: ” no pic, no reply.”

We could walk on the shore,
Collect shells, build castles.
We could gaze at stars
under a moonlit sky.

All they said was: “no pic, no reply. ”

We could do long drives,
musical nights, shopping sprees.
We could explore new eateries.
Heck! Even barbecue, bake and fry.

All they said was: “no pic, no reply. ”

Then time flew.
More impatient I grew.
I learnt my lesson by and by.
One fine day I too wrote:
“Golden rule apply;
No pic, no reply.”

~ aviD

Beginnings...

Winter has begun
to whisper
again.

The air seems
to have regained
its grace.

Fans haven't been
put out yet.
Yet we clasp our sheets
tighter
as we nestle in our beds.

Soon the winter will yelp,
a silent, bone-chilling yelp.

The air will get colder,
beds warmer,
my soul darker.

Bodily warmth doesn't suffice
when the soul craves warmth;
the warmth that can make it
melt,
and can recast it in a mould
in which it once
dwelt.

~ aviD

शरद पूर्णिमा

At a certain hour
        and a certain thought
        in the night,
as I lie in my bed,
      mostly awake,


     Moon-rays come
     knocking at my window,
              boisterously,
    when the moon positions itself
     right across my window.

Perhaps to sympathise;
Perhaps to mock.


          Tonight too,
           'tis so.

   It looks at me,
     expectantly,
    as it bleeds,
    waiting for me
    to nurse it.

I wish to have no
truck with it though!

       Why, it's a gloriously bitter reminder,
            this moon, full and whole,
              of a promise unfulfilled
                      and broken
          that haunts my dark soul.



|| याताबला व्रजं सिद्धा  मयेमा  रंस्यथ क्षपा:

  यदुदिश्य व्रतमिदं चेरुरार्यार्चनं सती: ॥ (Bhagwatam.10.22.27)    


~ aviD






                                                                   

Fossilised

The hopes you had raised
that evening
still stir occasionally
in the dark closets
of my memory.

Your words and phrases
punctuated by smiles
and twitching eyebrows
still breathe somewhere
between the pages
of my notebook.

Yes, you were one of those
who made it to those pages
and will remain there
fossilised,

gathering vividness
every time the pages flutter
in the winds of my solitude,

recreating that muggy evening
when my heart had danced a
secret dance,
unseen and soundless,

reminding me of your
oblivion then
and thereafter.

Oblivion-- so precious
whose absence
would have made me feel
vulgar.

The hopes you had raised
that evening
still stir occasionally
in the dark closets
of my memory,

but now I have learnt
the art of being deaf
to their pleas.

They were too demanding;
I was too inadequate.

~ aviD

A Kiss Is Not Just That

To call it just a kiss
would be unjust
For it wasn't just that.

It wasn't just our lips
that met;
Nor just our tongues
that battled.

It was my having you,
And your having me.
Not simply having me,
But having me,
My I,
My self;

It was my having you
in those moments
as flickery as the
candle flame
that flickered
as we kissed.

I discovered
a whole new
You!
I tasted the coffee that'd
burnt your tongue
this morning.
My tongue sympathised
with yours.

I chanced upon
that fibre of bhutta--
stuck adamantly between
the spaces of your teeth--
you'd just had.

I sensed my name that'd
rolled off your tongue
ever so tenderly
before you'd leaned forward
to kiss
Me.

It still sat there,
It sat there still.

There were the invectives too
that you'd used to curse
a reckless fellow driver
while driving on the road.

The fine words of praise
you'd showered upon me
clung to the wall of your mouth
and sweetened mine
as we kissed
under the moon
that looked like
a large water-melon wedge
coated with fine and delicate silver foil
juicy and edible.

Then there were also
those three treacherous words,
hidden in a dark corner
of your mouth,
waiting to pop out
as soon as the kiss
were to end.

"I love you!"
You would have said,
had I not continued
kissing you ceaselessly.

To call it just a kiss
would be unjust;
For this kiss averted
a disaster too!

~ aviD