Mind obsessed

Body caressed

Heart possessed

Souls distressed

Feelings suppressed

Anger repressed

Self oppressed

All depressed

None expressed...

She

She is the one who melts my heart away

she speaks innocently like a child at play

she squeaks like a mouse when she is happy

she yells like a lion when she is angry.

She cuddles to me like i were her bear

she rushes to me when i need her care

she cares for me when i am ill

she loves me with all her will.

She makes a puppy-face to plead me

she makes a devil-face to threaten me

she makes a funny face to cheer me

she makes a ugly face to happy me.

She smiles when she is sad

she cries when she is lonely

she laughs when i am silly

she then takes my heart away.

She is adorable when she plays with her hair

she is cute when she talks to the walls and the air

she is irritating when she tells me 'nothing'

she is curious and always upto something.

I love to get her furious

i love to see her curious

i love to bring her joy

i love to see her coy.

I can praise her to no end

it is she who makes my life bend

i could only be her admirer

she is my only disease and the curer.

She stands like a grape vine

she walks like the wind dancing in the morn

she is like a glowing candle

simply made to illuminate my darkness.

she sleeps like a rose laid on the grave

she smiles like a child when tickled

she glares like the stars charming in the night

she mesmerizes me like an angel.

Oh! let me have her

let me suck the fragrance of her body

let me be close not to leave her

let me wrap her in my arms

let me touch the softness of her thighs

let me nourish myself in her beauty

let me grab her sensuous waist

let me feel her tenderly unlike before.

Let me possess her completely

let me make her feel the love i have

let me be with her till eternity

let me have this moment forever.

So near, yet so far.

She is a mere illusion of love

she is what i desired

she is what i loved

she is what i needed

But,

She sees not what i see for her

she hears not what i speak to her

she tells not what i want to hear

she is not where i want her to be.

Now,

My admiration is sickness to her

my calls are immune to her

my care is a routine to her

my love is despicable to her

She pains me with her ignorance

she hurts me with the uncared words

she rejects my love for some other

she pricks me by erasing my existence

She is preserved in my memories

she is safe in my heart

she is treasured in my thoughts

she is held in my past

She may not be my future

she may not be my dream

she may not be my love

Yet, she will always be my life.

When I Die-

in the arms of the lover i cherish

on the bed that we love and care

in the house filled with smiles and joy

on the earth where upon i was born and nursed.

I shall have left what is mine

the treasures i stored with all my life

my friends and family shall be there

to see my flesh beneath the shroud.

i shall see no tears when be dead

shall not hear the sounds of th mourners

lay quietly like a drugged patient

to be taken to the next level.

shall be decorated like a bride

be pretty as i sleep cold

no more will i feel the tenderness

of the touch that loved me most.

flowers of sweet fragrance rests on me

that freshness will rot with my body.

Do i dare to think of the face

that loves me with all his life?

Shall he accompany me to the road unknown

where i shall be trembling and be lonely of the cold?

will he think when i would have left the world?

I pray to the stars

when i have crost the bars

to see my only lover

before i shut my eyes forever.

Silence of the Winds

It is quiet

it is pleasing

it is easy

when all lonely

Who shall bother

who shall talk

lights all off

all windows shut

Floats the air

above the flesh

that lies in trance

in the dark

Eyes still motionless

breath so uncountable

lips slightly parted

and all hair flows

Music in mind, plays

soft and low, unhearable

to own is heard

of the whispers and mourns

Eyes motions visions

of scary, trembling times

fear grips the face

with terror in the eyes

Terror that flows

now as a river

arms now quiver

for love done gone

Music in heart

now plays louder

beats harder than drums

that is unstoppable

Let the glaciers melt

Let the river flow

Let it meet the sea

Let it be sweet and salty

It's Night

Eyes meets eyes

heart meets heart

soul touches soul

love creates music

on which dances

the two bodies.

Cheek touches cheek

fingers touches hands

hands round the waist

held tightly and so firm

against her bosom

now he transmutes the passion.

Now lips meet lips

hands held neck

delicate fingers embraces the beloved

now water meets fire

the passion of love

fuses into the smoke.

Now breath meets breath

more than lips, tongues collide

smoke heatens the mood

two bodies twined and drenched

into the love they made

And now night meets the day.

Flames of Fire

Flames of fire burns fearlessly,

a heart that desires breathes heavily,

hate that dwells in swells gradually,

the burning heart weeps cravingly.

Feed more! feed more!

hate It to the core,

the wounds left so sore

cause of the memories engraved before.

Break what broke

tear what tore

take what took

give what gave

Make It shatter,

make It tatter,

Phoenix now risen

in ashes It will burn.

Embrace hate that is chaste,

let It know of that taste

of the knives and the glasses that bruised

the memories of the heart that were closed.

To My Sister

She is an angel of the night

And with her she brings the light

That has been so very bright

To let away that fright.

With her she brings the flowers

Whose fragrance can reach the towers

Of the dim and lonely hours

That cheers all, with her powers.

Her visions are of the drop of the water,

Her words are engraved and so graver,

Her voice is music ever so soother,

Her care is nothing less then a mother.

She cares nothing but for me

And her love is so heavenly,

If I ever wanted anything so dearly

Would have been a sister like thee.

To a Daughter

Her tears are full of fears

Of the weight all she bears

Pushed in the shoe box

When the world to her, mocks.

Answers she to everyone

Fury in heart kept to burn

Yet she lets it all go

With her head raised so low.

Love she wants, love she gets

For a moment she always waits

To be free of all the cages

And just not to be on the edges.

A Prelude

It rests in my heart,

Don’t know where did it start.

Residing in some dark corner,

Now grown with all pride and honour.

It takes all what makes me smile

And pleases me with all worries a while.

I tell it not to follow

With triumph it resides in dark hollow.

Visions so blur, tears in vain,

So does now happiness refrain?

Tell why friends and foes are in me,

Fear of fear shall it be?

With the pen and the paper

The pen and the paper are in the front

It is the ideas that I hunt.

When I sit to write,

No ideas seem so bright.

Longing for interesting thoughts,

Fades into the distraction of the lot.

In the library where I sit,

It is a place where ideas don’t knit.

I stare so hard till I penetrate their head

And yet nothing much can be led.

I sit aloof and nothing is learnt

When the pen and the paper are in the front.

In The Meadow

In the meadow

when i lay

next to you

I'll watch the sun

shine over you face

and cherish those sparkling eyes

I'll tell you

of my visions

and dreams i fancy most

I'll talk to you

of love in

hundred thousand languages

When the sun-sets

I'll bathe with you

in rivers that run still

Elope with you in

in the darkness

of the woods

I'll show you

what is truly mine

when fire burns bright

Embrace you

with my body

in the moonlight

When stars will shine

the tuning of our bodies

will be perfect music of Love.

I hate, I hate, I hate to be told,

and i dont want to be like a mould,

you must know that I am bold,

Dont try me, I hate what you do,

To tell me always what to do.

My Friend, My Star

The dark curtain is stretched

And now I feel so wretched

The sky has been so blue

The stars are only so few?

My friend, my star

Why are you so far?

As the time passes by

I can only sit and cry

Wish there was more

My love is to the core

My friend, my star

Why are you so far?

The moonlight seems so grave

Wish I could be so brave

To let you have gone

And wished to move on

My friend, my star

Why are you so far?

In the sky its you I admire

Then get stuck in the quagmire

Of the feelings that now take no delight

And suddenly nothing feels right.

My friend, my star

Why are you so far?

Now, done cannot be undone

Wish I was forgiven

Sometimes it gets late

As I know you cant always wait.

My friend, my star

Will you always be so far?

My Fascination

The Heavenly dress on mannequin

that makes me all imagine.

The first walk on the isle

with a shy-ful smile.

The churchyard of the spring

when the nature to me will sing

the joy of oneness

together when the Gods will bless.

When he unveils the veil

the fear will then have no trail.

The vows then taken

will never be broken.

My heart will beat loudly

When he says 'I DO'

I may cry merrily

and say 'I DO TOO'

Lovers at last will then be mates

not the souls unite but will fates.

The fairy tale then may come true

the Prince and the Princess, the only two.

Mouse in the House

In my house

there is a mouse

it is my spouse

who does the browse.

When he does click, click

my mind flick, flick

wish i could slick, slick

with a trick, trick.

It makes me mad

to know it is bad

cause what he had

is just a fad.

He sleeps not

since it was bought

he gets caught

when he lies a lot.

That machine is a pain

as there is no gain

it is a refrain

now left is no brain.

WITHER LITERATURE

Effortless and high-speed access to internet through mobile phones and computers has made the man impatient, edgy and hungry for knowledge. No one has time to stop, to read and to enjoy. The busy life of man leaves him no time for leisure and hobbies. In this fast-paced world, knowledge is wider with little words. Somehow, words seem not as importance as they used to be. Books, newspapers, journals have taken a back-seat in this electronic-age. In America most major paper publications like the New York Times or the wall street Journal are having trouble surviving in face of the alternate media that is the internet. Cybernetic reading is displacing linear, closed, solitary reading. It is transforming the process of literary reading. The reader is continuously exposed to inter- textual ties and virtual ties of mass media and that of information technology. People, moreover kids today have short attention-spans. Long drawn out sentences, never ending paragraphs and detailed long description are not comprehensible to them. For example: Thomas Hardy. Hardy has a flair for the native lands and usually writes pages describing landscapes which is not appreciated by today’s reading audience. I mean, how do we relate? There are no landscapes left which we can see and admire their beauty!

Literature has faced uncountable changes ever since its existence. Passing through all the ages, it has flourished richly. In the age of cybernetics, literature has become an art form. It’s being redefined as per the needs of a younger population. Modern tools have helped literature become an equalizer between the haves and the have-not. SMS has created new room for urban quotations and poems. Stories can now be presented in 140 characters or less. No wonder we say the world is growing smaller. Flash fiction and micro-fiction have sidelined long elaborative patterns of writing. Earlier people used to spend hours in libraries searching and reading up on information for their answers and papers. Now, however all one needs to do is GOOGLE it! An entire world of information is accessible at the click of a mouse. The same is with dictionaries. Oxford, which was once considered the bible for literature students is no more that important. Almost all the mobile phones have dictionaries. And if not that, there is still the web. Software like Word web etc provides one with the meaning for almost all the words.

The ‘6 word novel’ is a new field for writers to experiment. “After she died, he came alive” by Rebecca James and “One gun, two shots, three dead” by Marcy are examples of a six word novel. This is a new fashion of writing which is challenging and creative. It may be easy to write a long, narrative and detailed novel but writing a novel as short as six words requires innovation. Hundred years back no one would have thought of writing a novel in six words. Mr. Dickens is definitely turning in his grave. Six word novels leave the reader curious and thoughtful. The meaning is also left to reader’s interpretation. It requires a lot of creativity and imagination... We are moving ever closer to the concept of the “Death of the Author”, that Roland Barthes had propounded. The text now has more and more “gaps” that makes it more and more “readerly” than “writerly”. Further Blogging sites have given opportunity to upcoming, amateur writers. They are getting more and more popular. Flash fiction too is an “in” thing. It has restricted words and the idea has to be flashy and catchy. The famous example is Aesop’s Fables. It is loved by all due to its concise form of writing and implied moral. Even famous writers like O’Henry, Ernest Hemingway, and Anton Chekov as flash fiction writers. Examples Twitter fiction refers to original, self-contained works of fiction in each tweet published by Twitter users. Twitter fiction is being classified into certain new literary genres, which are given new names by combining the name of the different genres with the name of the application. Therefore, Thrillers become Twillers, Haikus become Twaikus and Short Stories become Twistories or Twisters. Twitter has come about as a revolution. A television serial “SHIT MY DAD SAYS” which makes its CBS debut in September is based on a Twitter feed started by struggling comedy writer Justin Halpern in 2003, who captured his own father’s salty language and forthright observations. As an expression of postmodern literature, twitter fiction shares characteristics of micro-fiction (printed), such as brevity, multiple meanings and inter-textual ties.

Literature is also an art of writing; the above mentioned forms are not only new trends and ways of enhancing but also re-altering art. It has diverse, exigent and very spontaneous forms and unlike the conventional. It has gained immense popularity. It gives you the pleasure of knowledge and quenches your curiosity in small and controlled doses. It definitely creates new and different genres of literature. These forms have come in to acceptance because of their popular demand. These new and recent trends are unimaginable concepts from the point of view of anyone living a few decades ago. Blogging, twittering, micro blogging, 6 word novels, all of them are changing the trends of literature with regards to reading and writing. It’s giving opportunity to upcoming talent and is helping decentralize the processes of who gets to publish what in the world of literature.

Of course, these new trends are fascinating and interesting but, according to some literary purists, it is degrading the classics and the conventions of literature. Literary purists are put off by internet slang, which according to them gives rise to the abuse of language and superficiality. Especially on Twitter, for e.g.: The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger is: “Rich kid thinks everyone is fake except for his little sister. Has breakdown.” Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen has become: “Woman meets man called Darcy who seems horrible. He turns out to be nice really. They get together.” Dante's Inferno is boiled down to: "I'm having a midlife crisis. Lost in the woods. Should have bought my iPhone.” These are non-formal free form styles of writing and they often neglect grammatical errors, wrong use of vocabulary and have little respect for the great works of literature from which some of them copy. These are shorter than short stories, flashier than flash fiction and now they have become “Twititure. SMS and Facebook poetry have been claimed to have degraded the language, vocabulary, form and conventions of writing too. Urban words and slangs are becoming common to every mouth. To some, phrases like ‘ash hole’, ‘zombie Jesus’, ‘directionally challenged’, ‘pen you in’ don’t make sense. Nor do they consider it as any form of valid language.

Grammar is lost and has almost disappeared in today’s scenario. SMS languages have ruined the role of vocabulary and spelling. Spellings with missing vowels are now growing famous. The fast-paced life is short-lived for literature. No longer do many want to learn the details of any book, grammar or even poetry. Somehow, Classics are now growing old fashioned and boring. Anything that is short and interesting is definitely catchy for today’s generation. We want to know everything now! Who cares if it’s missing a comma or two or that it lacks in depth and research.

Lastly in cybernetic culture, hypertext may survive as an art form by offering pleasures of virtual immediacy, spontaneity, rich web of texts in various media and interactivity for the reader. Literature as a form of art, can be studied in depth; adding more weightage to the content. Otherwise the subject in itself is losing its importance and charm. Hypertext version can be the boon to revive Literature. For e.g. D.G. Rosetti’s “The Blessed Damozel” in its hypertext version will have the poem and the painting juxtaposed. Using zoom in and zoom out the student and/or reader can view the relevant sections of the painting and be able to relate better with the poem. How many times have we literature students heard the word “boring” being tagged along with our stream of study. The decisive moment of literary life will be that of reading. Mankind is beginning to understand how to dismantle and reassemble the most complex and unpredictable of all its machines: Language.

Earlier people used to write diaries but it has now become the talk of the “past”. Reliving memories through Facebook, twitter and other networking sites is a lot easier. Uploading of pictures on Facebook saves man from the tedious task of taking care of albums or preparing scrapbooks (Anyway there is no space to keep them!) All the friends have an access to the albums online and are free to add their comments on the pictures saving it till the account survives. Is it necessary?

Today’s world is far richer in words and concepts and signs than the world that surrounded primitive man. Far more people are getting involved, are taking part in the process or writing than ever before. The changing face of literature is an uncontrollable factor, whether it’s good or bad is undetectable and unknown.

The Traveller

Traveling in the empty void of space
The sense of self has no trace,
No up and no down,
No wrong and no right.
Traveling free of the thought
I feel no more caught.
Free of the worldly bondage,
I float over above the cage.
I learn, I explore, I grow,
Above all I want more to know.
Experience the inexperienced, to know the unknown,
Is the beauty of the emptiness of my own.
Now with all my clear vision,
That Emptiness is a bright illusion.

My endless love...

To you I’ve to ask,

For you there is a task.

Do you have five minutes to spare,

If you really care?

Listen to me carefully,

I have written this dearly,

For you who is so lovely,

So that you know clearly,

To what I have to say precisely...

I have a story to narrate,

Hope I don’t irritate.

This guy I saw

Was with a puzzled jaw.

His brain is funny

And he is very geeky.

I met him a year back

And I got a heart-attack.

We were friends in the end,

Whose ideas rarely blend.

We met quite often

And we had loads of fun.

We heard out eachother,

Without this world to bother.

Seldom we noticed the change,

When our hearts ex-change.

He hinted me what he liked

And it was then I realized.

I asked him to confess

But he wasn’t sure of “YES”.

“You are the one I like” I said in his eyes

And then with no message, he ran in disguise.

With that broken heart he made me cry

And not to talk to him, I did try.

He was then sorry for his behavior

And then said to me, “I like you too dear”.

Months have passed by for us to be together,

I feel we are now made for eachother.

For you I write this from the beginning,

So you don’t forget this, when we reach the ending.

This is to whom I love

That is as pure as dove.

Lost in the search

On the lonely path, in the night,

I walked with fear and of fright.

The star of my fate that I followed,

Under the moon-light that I borrowed.

Nothing to hold, nothing to talk and nothing to smile,

In the rough night I walked one another mile.

I cried till my eyes went dry,

Not to loose hope I did try.

Saw a flower in the brightness of the lune,

Trembling lips found rhythm to the tune.

With joy and glee, I grabbed,

With fear no more I moved ahead.

Blindly I follow the star of my fate,

Caring no more for the flower, the mate.

Its petals withered, when I ignore,

It trusted me completely and now no more.

To my star I stare and to me my flower,

Just like an admirer to its lover.

Night turned to dawn and faded all the stars away,

In my hand my dead flower lay.

Agony of desire turned into pity,

Not for the flower but for me.

Lost and found and lost again,

The star of my fate for it I was late then.

Left for neither but for pain,

In the search I lost again.

The abduction

On a cold floor, like a stone was laid,

Like a flower withered, crumpled and trampled.

No movement of any living or dead.

Not a cloth to cover, might be uncared.

Eyes seek no hope that once charmed,

At a distant light, in the dark they stared.

Helpless hands dont long to be held.

Sealed lips untells the agony of the heart-betrayed.

Like a knife, that might have engraved bruises by a heart-cold.

In Your Memory…

The darkest night had come by

Next to the window as I lie

Gazing up in the sky

I watch the moon shy.

Tears fall gradually

When it comes to your memory

And then I shall be

All lost in it deeply.

Another color turned to grey

As I see no ray

No moments seemed so gay

And afraid if ever night turned to day.

Little did I know

That light of hope would show.

Was disillusioned when I heard you go,

Didn’t know where else to go…

Days and months die away,

Next to the window as I lay,

Gaze up at the sky still so gray,

And I still remember you the same way…

Down The Memory Lane

Nobody knew where I was. Just alone, in that messy and filthy room of mine. No air to circulate. Everything was as still as water. Not a single movement. The room was completely filled with darkness. Not a single ray of light to pass by. So much of pain was being experienced. Occupying that corner of the room there I was, sitting, all cuddled by myself. My legs folded touching my chest and my hands embracing my legs as tight as they could.

Completely wet with tears. Sweat was running down my forehead. My long hair was open and covered my face completely. Crying out in despair for the broken heart, which had no cure.

How clearly I could hear my breathing! I was breathing so heavily since I was so tired. My heart was beating faster and faster. Tears were running down my eyes and tickling down my cheeks. I clutched my dress as tight as I could; I had full intentions of tearing and pulling them off. Mind was so depressed. My head was paining with immense of frustration.

I broke that still silence by giving out a loud yell. There was no one to respond me back. There was no one to come running towards me and give tight hug. There was no one to calm me down. There was no one to support me. That’s where I live. I live with no one but with myself. I live my life with my SOLITUDE.

Again there was complete silence, sniffing and crying. I felt something on my ankle. Something was tickling me. I touched my ankle but couldn’t feel anything. Again I felt the wetness. Felt as if something was licking my leg. Out of curiosity, I raised my head to see what it was.

I saw some small creature. It was very much contrast to me. She was so small and white.

She was so tiny and furry. She was simply so very adorable. She was small cat. I don’t know where she came from. One glance at her and it melt my heart away. I nearly forgot what was happening. I took her gently in my hands and held her close to my face. I stared back at her and she stared back at me. it seemed as if she was smiling at me. I hugged her and her touch made me realize a very special person to me. Her touch was equivalent to that of someone very close.

I got up and took her to the next room. I took care of her- I gave her milk, comfort, love and care. What was so special about her? After all she was just a cat. How could she revive me back? How could she bring me out of depression? How could she bring back that same love and affection to my life, which I had lost it somewhere few days back?

I asked these questions several times to myself but I didn’t get any answers for them. Whenever I looked at her it made me remind of few beautiful memories of the past. I got comfort and peace that night. I slept peacefully with calmness and even without sleeping pills.

I slept for long hours that day. I got up in the morning and my eyes only wanted to see her. My wandering eyes did not relax till I found her sleeping next to my feet. I was in such a worry when I didn’t see her. She was sleeping so peacefully. I took her in my arms and cuddled her. She gradually opened her eyes and started licking my face. I gave her kiss and let her free. She stretched out lazily and ran towards the kitchen.

I fed her with milk and biscuits and I helped my self with some coffee. Later on I got ready and we left house to head towards supermarket. I had nice time with her and each moment made me remind of someone so very special to me. After many days I felt that happiness which I had lost it somewhere in the past. It felt as if I had forgotten to smile. She was a reason for me to smile.

It was evening when we were on our way back home. We were on one side of road and house was on the other side. I was holding her in one hand while the bags were in the other hand. Suddenly, she just bit me and ran out of my hands towards the other side of road. And then some pictures of my past flashed into my mind…

The situation was same…but time was different. The place was same ……..but people were different. The feelings were same…..but experience was different. How vividly I remember when my daughter left my hand and ran towards the house she never returned back! She was crushed under a loaded- truck. This all happened before my eyes. How hard it was for me to accept the death of my very own daughter! The only person whom I loved so UNCONDITIONALLY left me with nothing but only in isolation. That day was the most unforgettable day of my life.

That cat was none other than the resemblance of my daughter. Just to fill in that empty phase of my life with few colors for some time. Each and every moment with her made me remind of my one and only one daughter. She was one and last sign of my beloved love. And……

And that was the end. No one comes back after they are gone. You are only left with their memories-sometimes good and sometimes bad. That’s how life treats us without any mercy …leaves us in hands of destiny and there we go on without any ending and meaning to our life.

Again I was left where I was. From the beginning…