Tuesday, December 6, 2011

The purple run

She walks down the isle
Wearing purple expressions on her sleeves.
She stores her precious memories in a bottle
The bottle explodes with fury.
Her shoes help her to run afar
She discovers the galaxy in her lap.

* Inspired by Coldplay's song Paradise.

Friday, December 2, 2011


Fly me to the brightest star
and watch me fade into the night sky.

Thursday, December 1, 2011

Feels like Home

Take me away from here..
Pamper me gently...
Tease me wild...

Come take a peek into my world..
Roll in laughter...
Writhe in confusion...

Dance with me tonight...
Lets feel each other close...
and weave fascinating fables for tomorrow..

Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Too many thoughts!

Lately, I have been counting my pleasures and my woes
and the discoveries have been quite interesting!

A brown feather comforts my not so-old window sill
Inside my room there's a smell of confidence and indifference.

My haphazard furnitures exude indolence
while my bookshelf craves for tenderness.

My mirror reflects a thousand colours
but my face soaks up the excess tints.

I stand alone, my guitar by my side.
I stay calm killing my innermost anguish.

Monday, November 28, 2011


And you sprinkle your cinnamon dust
which lays across my purple meadow.

And you leave behind your crystal ball
which shows me a glimpse of your mind.

And I run to the distant woods
there, I re-unite with my violet moods.

Friday, September 23, 2011

The Blue Glass- Finale

The musician blows the trumpet hard.
Jazz spirit fills the room.
I see hope and content in people's eyes.
My crimson glass has come to bid me goodbye.
She has a blue hue somewhere and I don't like it.
She gives me a cruel smile and makes me feel
hollower than ever.

I lie in a different canvas today.
I am supposed to act important too.
The frame has only me and I wear the
silliest yet the most fulfilled expression.
I am a man in love today but my muses
have run away. Black magic is my trump card now.

The Blue Glass- Chapter IV

Crimson glass exists in a secluded corner.
She is pale but divine. She wears a calm mask to
hide all her worries and fears.
Her strength is her laughter. 
She can bring joy to the grimmest castle 
within a flash.
She is precious to me and to the world as well.
I can't hold her too long,
Shackles squeeze out all her happiness.
She wants me, she wants me alone
but i feel Blue.

You should know that Crimson glass
is my imagination. She lives in my world.
A world which is inside me. But she is not trapped like me.
My crimson glass can wander about but returns everytime I am in pain.

The Blue Glass- Chapter III

I lost him and I lost her...
I wish I knew where to go but
I am trapped in the canvas you see.
I am no flesh and blood,
but don't get me wrong-
I have a strong sense of duty and
emotions keep me going.
Only the crimson glass can help me.

She loves me with all her heart.
She accepts my varied professions and hobbies.
She knows I am nothing but Blue's sketch.
She knows I exist for Blue like she does for me.
However, her love grows manifold each day.
Crimson glass makes me encounter laughter and beauty.
She is an integral part of me.
She makes me happy but you see,
my song is Blue.

The Blue Glass- Chapter II

Today I have to be cynical and proud.
She wants me to repel the room full of guests.
Aah! You got it. It isn't too simple.
She wants this man with the green stick dead.
No! She didn't tell me why but I am a murderer today.

The man with the green stick has a contagious sneeze.
I barely manage to escape the trap.
He has a cigar you see, simple but exotic.
The smoke changes peoples' desires.
I had to protect Blue but where has she gone?
The man with green stick laughs a terrible laugh.
But wait..is he reading my mind?

The Blue Glass- Chapter I

Her hair smells like freshly grown cloves,
I get moved by her fleeting expressions.
She is called Blue,
but her skin reminds one of the the prettiest white.
I live and breathe in and out of her bones.
She is mine and I am hers.

Who am I? She would be sketching me soon enough.
You see, I change a lot depending on her thoughts.
One day, I gallop across the hidden woods,
the next day I find myself in a busy market.
If I could colour her moods, it would range from
the palest pink to the boldest black.
She is a wild thing you know but gentle deep down.

Wednesday, September 21, 2011


Those shadows are all over me,
The clouds and the moon share a dialogue.
Raindrops retreat too soon
and the scary bat knocks on my door.

The 'other' me sqeals subtly, but 'real' me answer it back,
and it seems to understand my language.
It displays a ritual dance to welcome me to its family.
I politely indulge and begin a conversation.

We call today Vienna and tomorrow Florence,
But the months need a name and so does the year.
The clock is making the world go round,
Yet the stories weaved look for solidity.

Thursday, August 25, 2011

Castillo del Helado- Part I

My Vanilla queen is very gentle.
In Castillo Del Helado, she has the prettiest room.
She smells of jasmine and sprinkles cinnamon flavoured joys.
Skylarks and dolphins help her create happiness.
Beware! She can even cast wicked spells by doing a deadly waltz.
Children adore her, fairies admire her.
Her laughter brings forth pearls of every kind.

My Rasberry knight waits all night.
He has the perfect blend of wit and charisma.
He is rover by the night and saviour by the day.
He plays with swords and with hearts.
Together they are one of a kind.
but alas! there is a lot more they need to find.

Monday, August 22, 2011

The black crayon

I see you in distance, I turn my back.
I hold on to my book and the brown box.
Chocolates have turned sour,
The button has fallen off.
Photographs too have lost their shine.
I look away, my feet are dead.
I search my bag, and my brains.
I find the black crayon and the white lie,
the lemon tart and your vulgar cries.
I was certain and I still am our paths should never have converged,
Yet I find a part of you lurking underneath my mind somewhere.

Friday, August 19, 2011

On my own

The sinister night whispers its secrets to me,
My bedroom window is half open and so is my mind.

Yes, my fractured dreams speak to the moon.
They share an intimate solitude. I intrude too.

My glasses fail to identify the colour purple,
rainbow patterns fill my life. But I never get the colour of my choice.

Music that I hear is calm yet vibrant,
and when time comes, it puts me to sleep.

In my dreams, bizarre encounters keep me busy.
When I wake up I  realize that reality and fantasy have merged.
I enjoy the best of both.

Monday, July 25, 2011

And So..

The brown sky stifles me,
Multiple doors fascinate me.
The purple ink plays with me;
Closed walls enclose me.
The strawberry rain awaits me,
Wrecked mirrors frighten me.
The blue trumpet pertubs me,
Water lilies amuse me.

Friday, July 22, 2011


Little droplets everywhere-
They are dancing to a secret tune,
They are playing with sheltered thoughts.

Little droplets everywhere-
My eyes search for those deeper truths,
My face longs for your wet embrace.

Little droplets everywhere-
They are leaving us with a new reverie,
They are snatching away few fine memories.

Little droplets everywhere-
O little droplets everywhere.

Saturday, July 16, 2011

Three companions : Finale

The message was for Violet.
It was related to her work.
Yes of course! she was an actress.
The man with the yellow boots was her co-star.
They were always cast together, and they were
so proud of their work. They looked happy together.
Everything was perfect until the day he invited Lemon.
Lemon was his half brother and Violet's estranged husband.

Lemon was too much in love though.
Violet had her reasons and then again
she had a past with the man with the yellow boots.
They were about to be engaged.
Both had just become celebrities.
Violet was forever perplexed.
Decision-making was never her forte.
She was completely love-struck when Lemon performed for her.
He played Bach's Fugue in G-minor on his clarinet.
And in no time, they got married.

Maroon could cure aching hearts and mind.
His music had healing powers.
But his methods were intense.
If one was too edgy, one could die.
That is why many had to return dispirited.
The wooden cello boxes hid the cadavers of their loved ones.
Violet was fighting her feelings- her innocence as well as her penitence.
She survived till the end. Lemon had to go on.

Lemon was precious to Maroon.
To put a smile on his face, the other man had to be put to sleep.
Alas! if only they knew. The message said that Violet had to knock off Lemon.
Also, the fate of the brothers were interlinked.
If one died, the other had to undergo the same process.
Lemon slipped off the following day.
Maroon and Violet had no respite from mourning.
They had lost their identity and existence all at once.

Friday, July 15, 2011

Three companions : Chapter 4

Maroon and Lemon were childhood friends.
They first met during a music competition.
Maroon had won it. He was a child prodigy.
He played Bach's Cello suite no.6.
Lemon has given up his clarinet now.
He is comfortable juggling the role of
a script-writer and a penciller.
Maroon isn't only a musician.
He is a renowned music therapist.
Violet has been his patient for a while now.
She is also the protagonist of Lemon's new script.
The man with the yellow boots had come with a message.

Three companions : Chapter 3

Lemon knew that Bach had a special significance.
He started scribbling nervous phrases just to keep his cool.
They summoned him. He rambled across the hallway.
Everyone knew that Lemon had two obsessions:
Food and Violet. Don't get me wrong. He wasn't proud of it.

Violet looked white. She curled herself cozily beside the fireplace.
She felt troubled. She began to care for the man with yellow boots.
But..come now. Didn't they just meet? It wasn't even an encounter.
They had a past. Tears rolled down her cheeks.

Maroon looked triumphant. He was too pleased with his performance.
The approval from the crowd proved that the bizarre incident was an usual act.
The man still lay there but his yellow boots had vanished.
Lemon was showed in. When their eyes met,
Maroon and Lemon were in state of stupor.
Both smiled graciously nonetheless.

Thursday, July 14, 2011

Three companions : Chapter 2

It so happens that Violet keeps humming the lines
'on and on the rain will say, how fragile we are, how fragile we are'.
She takes a sneaky glance at the man wearing yellow boots.
No! she didn't find it strange at all rather she's a little curious.
That's all.

Lemon seems to know this man.
They embrace each other and share a knowing smile.
The man enters this murky room where two hefty men
are having a big brawl. Alas! After each grisly attack,
they seem to revel in glory.

Maroon looks up, the man with the yellow boots
stoops low to pick up an empty cello wooden box
and returns a cynical smile. Maroon seemed flabbergasted.
He took out his cello and started playing Bach's Cello suite no 1.
The man fell dead within seconds.

P.S: For Piya :D.

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

Three companions

Meet my friend violet:
fragile and baffled
engrossed in bliss.
Apathetic towards grief
headstrong and full of herself.

You mean the outline visible from here?
Oh! That's my friend Maroon.
You see the big wooden box lying there
it is the cradle for his cello.
He is a fine cellist you see, (that's what everyone says)
but whoever comes to greet him here
returns with dead corpses in other wooden boxes.

But come now, you must meet Lemon
With his alert glance and killer smile
he sure knows it best.
Philosophies and symphonies
have a charming effect on him.
He doodles multi-hued patterns
and scribbles awkward lyrics
whenever his spirit is let loose.

Monday, July 4, 2011

10 lines

The city lights are growing dim,
the dark alleys find new companions.

An artist gives his boldest stroke,
the pallete however, appears too grey.

I stand away soaked by the rain,
the solemn cello strikes a chord in me.

The bookstore is closing for the day,
the new tales fail to evoke the finer sensations.

I walk away lonely and torn,
the nightbird and the moon show a magical path.

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

Sing happy dreams!!

You asked me 'what makes me happy?'
I thought I had the answer but my head seemed empty.
Words escaped my lips, my body felt heavy.
The creepy rain kept knocking on my door
but the book of music filled me with hope.

You asked me 'what makes me sing?'
I thought I had the answer but my legs felt numb.
People outside spoke of surrealism, holding on to idiosyncratic notions.
The whining wind kept hitting my face
but the mellow flute put me to sleep.

You asked me 'what makes me dream?'
To that I had an instant reply.
Far away gypsy dance, mysterious desert flowers.
The wanderers kept whispering their travels accounts
but the silent terrace narrated me a different tale.

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Wanderer for life

I want to be a wanderer for life…
Swaying to the Andalucian beats…
Serenading to a Parisian melody…
Roaming love-lorn in Rome…
Singing all through the streets of Mississippi …
Miming my life’s frolic filled days in London’s theater…
Enjoying the specially cooked Sushi in Tokyo…
Fantasizing much more escapades in El Mundo…
Chronicling it all in an attempt to freeze pleasures…
Better still, I’ll be a wanderer for life…

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

A Musical Serenade: The Note and the Musician

There you are all too near yet so far...
Come fly me to the music box...
Come play me darling- maybe an octave higher...
Yes! colour me a shade lighter in the following movement...
Make me a tad tender than the usual days...
Let me be your ally to churn few emotions...
Let me comfort you till you find me...
O honey! you meet me at last...
And only you know my cryptic desires...

The Strange Uncanny Green Blue

The strange melody is making me dance..
The uncanny ship is sailing towards East..
The green monster is rising again..
The blue rain is retiring thus...

Sunday, February 6, 2011

Se diga es un pensamiento

Estoy muy cansada hoy..no me siento nada
Sin embargo, alguien se dice algo más importante
¿debo escuchar? ¿Por qúe? No me lo gusta ahora..
quiero soñar sobre cosas imposibles y absurdos
Pensé que estaba viendo visiones raros
Pero no..está natural para todos
Está mi primera vez, perdon me para mis errores
Voy a cambiar mi estilo de vida
¡Bastante! No puedo huir..
Pero..simplemente una petición:
Por favor deja me en paz en este momento

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

Night time

It is the perfect hour of bliss 
The night sky glistens only momentarily..
That strange neighbor sings Cohen's Suzanne 
Am on my own, yes... just me
The blessed silence engulfs it all
It is the perfect hour of bliss

Saturday, January 29, 2011

The Wooden Woman

She looks right through you but her lips remain sealed.
The sand in her feet brings her glee yet the dancing waves fail to move her.
She knows many people or so she claims!
Her smile is contagious and her ways charming.
She enjoys her quick siestas and disappears for random thinking.
Always craves for Mahler's symphonies but secretly admires Chris Martin.
She is besotted too often but loses it all too soon.
Rules terrify her but she says to herself- obedience is a virtue. Isn't it?
She is forever submerged in memories and belittles realities.
Her deep seated sentiments are rare but precious.
However, in the end she represents the wooden woman.
She expresses yet conceals. She loves but coldly.
She sings but the melody isn't always sweet and
She prays but no one knows for whom?

Saturday, January 1, 2011


Nothing seems to be right. Apparently there is nothing wrong either with the world or me but the nagging melody rings loudly inside my head each day. I am becoming withdrawn and increasingly pensive whenever I am hearing it. Probably its time for a change, maybe its just a passing phase, better perhaps its all a bad dream. Whatever awaits me in the future, I need to forego the past, atleast try and rewrite it in my own way.

I ask myself ‘Is it really possible to have it my way?’ but then do I know what is ‘MY WAY’? Have I really decoded the true meaning and nature of what has come before me until now? I am still working on it meanwhile my mind is receptive to new ideas and it gives me the strength to go on. Faith is all I have got because sometimes intuitions guide you in most unexpected ways.

I have learned to trust again, love once more, feel the rhythm with much more vigour and finally have been able to find myself.  The world has come to my aid in the hour of my darkest distress. Some wonderful people and moments shall forever remain etched in my memory because without them all this would have died.

There…. I have spelt out the forbidden word- what more? I feel distraught and lost yet a flicker of optimism keeps me smiling inspite of myself. I guess that is the spirit embedded in every life. The end comes if it has to and there isn’t much in our hand. Time, like always has surpassed me but I have lost gracefully. Duties in place, fears buried deep down, I begin my journey to the other world.