Handcrafted Memories

 

One fine evening, strolling in the muddy path

I saw a child rolling a tire with stick

Running and smiling, laughing, and giggling

Following his tyre, he ran away, playing his trick

 

He made me contemplate

I walked to a nearby tree of berries

And sat on a nearby bench, took a breath

And opened box of my hand-crafted memories

 

I saw one small boy running behind the kite

Eager to snatch it before other kids could

I followed that boy and reached to the corner of street

He was there celebrating with his friends, brethren of childhood

 

Cherished and joyous was he, perhaps he was throwing a treat

I went near him to relive the moment, but before could we meet

He walked away and led me to a late evening, a place under the open sky

He was staring at the stars, perhaps counting

Or may be trying to see shape in them, god knows why

 

I smiled and just joined him in his endeavor

We counted till a million, we drew a cat and a dragon

 

Holding hands, we headed to a new place

It was the last day of school

He was among his friends

Faces were showing smiles eyes were holding tears

Spirits were high, dreams were without any fears

 

Promises were made, memories were crafted on that white shirt

I walked away, leaving him living the moment

I then saw a young guy at beach

Making sandcastle, smiling, and contemplating

I went near and asked

Aren’t you old to play with sand?

 

He smiled at me, held my hand

Made me sit near and asked me to join

He was trying to relive the childhood

By making those sandcastles from memories of mine

 

Though imperfect but beautiful and pure

Perhaps like the childhood dreams

May be like those unhealthy toffies and those roadside ice creams

 

Then a wave came and took the castle with her

Leaving the smile on face and memories in the air

 

I too smiled and came back to my senses

Found myself sitting on bench, saw the time

And closed my box of handcrafted memories

And walked back to my house, feeling rejuvenated

Embracing the smile, evading the worries

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Life.....

it starts with a cry
and curtain falls when we die
in all the moments in between
we witness colors of life

it is red and dark when time is hard
circumstances force us to succumb
each moment makes us feeble and numb
yet if we chose to rise and fight
that is the victory, the true light

it is green and vivid when smiles are around
each moment makes us feel special, that soothing sound
we celebrate and laugh and praise our deeds
to live the happiness to fullest yet rooted to the ground
that is the true celeration, true inspiration

it is grey and brown when we are not sure
confusions are all around, obscure is the time
we brood and think and connects each link
but if prevailing in that pandemonium is the heart's true rhyme
then that is like being true aplomb, that's like true song

from the clouds of darkness
to the cherishing rains
from the failures and falls
to smiles and gains

it is all life, knitted by fabric of time
colors are different, textures are different
but it is our own, each thread, each line
to breathe in and exhale with smile, that's the life

The dancing colors…..

A little girl one day decided to paint

To paint something abstract; no shape

To let brush dance on sheet with no restriction

Let colors sense the rhythm her thoughts make

So she took the palette of colors out

Dip brush in blue and was about to add some water

The blue drop was holding the last strand of brush

Getting its strength together and not to shatter

But slowly it succumbed to the will of girl

And started its voyage to paint a thought

“Tip”!! The sound came; color drop fell in water

Mingled with it; won the heart; how nicely it fought

Now it was more powerful and in proper shade

Neither too much glossy nor too much fade

The drop then kissed the canvas, leaving its mark

Then girl thought to make the shade little dark

She then mixes brown, green and black; hits few strokes

The colors are running on the sheet; mixing and playing

The thoughts of the little girl taking shape;

On canvass the green grass was laying

Two blue together formed the sky

Big and calm; carrying grace and charm

Then there are few shades of brown and green

Forming lands and meadows; what a beautiful scene

Then few shades of white together dance and form a horse

Riding on white clouds; heading to the endless zone

And then few more colors took the shape of little girl

Sitting near the flowing river; dreaming & playing with hair’s curl

The colors danced all over the canvas and then froze

The little girl was staring at the painting; slowly she rose

Along her clapped the vibes, air, trees and flowers

Then she added few drops of grey to bring showers

Together all colors danced and made the painting

Little girl was looking at her painted self; her beautiful smile

She then added few drops of orange to blossom a bud

And hence there was a beautiful painting of “the dancing colors”

The last word

On this morning; fresh and bright

Let’s pull a story to say

It drowned in river of time

But fragrance of remembrances never faded away

It is a love story, yet not like others

It is a true story, yet not like others

It has tears, it has smiles

It has then in between

The distance of miles

Yet it has warmth and care; emotions and respect

And many unsaid pearls of moments

They never were passed in threads of words; never got a prospect

Time departed them; still confessions were never made

In heart, boy had storms, but never even a word was said

He was alone; facing his inner storm

Girl was never told; she already has gone

And then he thought to write the last page of this saga

To wish his inspiration; to admire her

He then penned a message putting his heart into it

Yet managed to not disclose the feelings; keeping the secret

He waited for girl’s reply, with a feeling that it would never come

And in that silence he got his answer; he was sad, he was numb

But something strange happened after a long time

He got her reply; asking more to explain, what meant in his rhyme

And now boy was numb again; holding pen,

Yet don't know how to write his heart out; the true feelings; this has never occurred

He knows for sure this would be the last conversation;

And thus trying to carve in most beautiful way, the last word…..

A poem….

It was a poem; just a poem

Yet contained a whole life in it

A story of a boy; silent and shy

And of a girl; bright in mind & sharp in wit

He was there; silent, unknown

She was there; dear to all, never alone

He used to make his pen dance

On the paper, tracing rhyming lines

She used to smile on the music of life

Pretty, sincere, jolly; bit choosy at times

He used to stare at her

She hasn’t any clue

He used to be around, yet un-noticed

Making things easy for her; she never knew

And time has witnessed a story; special in each sense

A mixed recipe of smiles and tears; joyous and tense

He used to cherish the small rare moments of talks

And tried to be a reason of her smiles

She never understood his true feelings

One day time departed them for miles

Now he was trying to overcome his sorrow

She was already busy in new world; new place

He slowly was healing up; yet she was in his heart and mind

He wishes to revert time; he still wishes to chase

She never knew him at all; she would never know

And time would make this story a forgotten tale

Yet this story was never completed; still growing

Beyond the happiness of success; beyond tears of being fail

 

 

 

That old town……

Walking on those mud paths

Where our childhood used to run

I plunge into rivers of memories

Memories of that wooden shop and its butter bun

And those silent roads on which

We, hand in hand, knitted dreams

Where we did thousands of mischiefs

Sometimes fought for kites; sometimes for ice-creams

That old wall is still here;

On which we drew our dream home

Painted it with our stories of imaginations

 & its corridors in which we used to roam

That small river stream is still afresh

Blue as sky, pure, calm and smooth

We often used to see our reflection in its water

That river witnessed our childhood meeting with youth

In these many years, the life albeit walked a lot

Yet our childhood is preserved in this very town

Where I first asked you if you would be with me always

Be it time of glories; be it time dull and brown

And your smile and a small tear in eyes

Said it all with no word to be told,

This old town and its old paths saw it all

The winds here still sings our stories; loud and bold

Old mountain winds

Far from the horizons they come

Wrapped in shivering cold

Carrying leaves in their palms

Carrying remembrances of many stories told

And then those old mountain winds

Jump deep the valley, suddenly then rise

They tell the saga of Jacob- the brave lamb

Who was cute in looks and in heart was wise

Once he got stuck in the herd of jackals

Alone he was; frightened and numb

But his heart was carrying hopes

He was a bright chap; not at all dumb

The old mountain winds witnesses that day

Something mesmerizing; something unusual

When one feeble little lamb

Defeated the king, which was strong and cruel

Jacob asked the king chase him

He ran as if it was his last run

And on the end of cliff he changed the side

Leaving the jackal to fall in drum

He then pushed the drum down the valley

And ran away to the far green land

He jumped and ran; he smiled and leaped

With old mountain winds-hand in hand

His saga inspires those

Who fear to face the plights

His victory shows the power of valor

Using it one can touch enormous heights

The old mountain winds sing this song

Every time they flow in valley, shaking the old tram

They touch the face and say in the ear

Rise high; face the fear; shine like Jacob the lamb

A caged fish…..

I sail all alone in the water with no waves

Being caged in glass walls, I merely survive

Finding no way to escape, I wish quit striving

Breathe and eat to live; in the heart already died

Each moment I wish and dream of waves

And freedom to sail across seas

But o my martinet destiny; is this a punishment?

My prayers never answered, same goes with my pleas

 When I reach near walls of glass

I can see one more fish (reflection); my exact replica

Even it moves as I move; no difference

And makes me believe in faith’s existence

But even my friend from other side of glass

Eludes me when it is dark; I am absolutely alone

My wait, then, for first light starts; in tears of solitude, nights blend

In morning, I rush to glass wall to meet my friend

Then another day it comes; I collect hope and strive

And wait for dawn to be dusk and dawn again,

This will go like this till I survive…..

O my heart, “talk to me first”!

O my heart, “talk to me first”!

You reside in my chest

You pump blood in me

You make me alive

Yet you only hurt me the most

You see someone and feel

I remain unknown and you dream

You imagine and create a different world

You make that dream live in me

And then one day, that dream scatters

Leaving pieces of pain and tear

And you cry for someone, leaving me alone

For someone who was never there

Then each heart beat makes me feel more alone

And you, inside me, remain in pain

And I beg you; want to make you understand

We both are alone in this world

Be with me, don’t dream for someone

Don’t feel the pain, don’t cry

Forget that smile, those eyes

Cheer up, let tears dry

And from now, listen to me, I plead

Think over the words I said,; don't bleed

Don’t go for anyone; don’t feel, set the feelings free

No one comes to know when you cry; except me

And I too remain helpless in making you relish

With your tears, my will and powers vanish

So please before falling for any unknown

O my heart- talk to me first

Silent conversations

When an ocean of thoughts

Meets with tides of emotions

I wish to express and want to speak

But the words seem painful

And letters mock

Alone in the world of thoughts I wander; seek

Alone witnessing the havoc

And yet unable to state

Unable to replicate thoughts in adequate word

To someone it may seem foolish; to someone nerd

And then too sailing in the heavy waves of feelings

Shedding tears and enduing the pain

And yet unable to speak

And yet unable to state

In this silent conversation within

Witnessing the rise and fall of me in myself

I try to stand in the juggernaut of my instincts

And wish to mend my beliefs, thoughts and wishes

And to burn the world of my expectations

To set myself free, away from etiquette and obligations

I wish to talk with no more words

But still drowning in my innate feelings

Thus, willing to master the silent conversation

A talk to know why I feel at all

I wish to state, but without spoiling it with letters

And wish to break my conventions; fetters