it's quite simple and plain...

 i need not explain.....

first, work took me to lands of no internet...

 on return, loss of father was the fate...i met...

still working around with life without him...

coming to terms slowly...in darkness and in dim..

jotting down few lines again....

  of some dreams and some pain...

hope i will last to continue...

  taking my notes... false and true....

one after one..

ticking away to glory..

come and go...

 little secrets they know...

of minds and matters..

 thoughts that scatter...

racing to fill the time...

trifle or sublime..

speaking with silence..

 opening up the eyes of lens...

making the minutes...

and hours and days...

history they make...

some forgotten...

some stays...

this present of every breath...

sucumbing to a quick death...

covering the calendar..

of years and years...

lost in time and space..

 appearing forever to grace..

like a solemn prayer..

dissolved in wind..

seeping in layers upon layer..

even beyond ..till death do us part..

to have another start..

or that he happily lived ever after..

cracking jokes....hearty laughter...

little sharp 

little rough

little weak

little rough

fires 

and 

flames

places 

and

names

some present

some past

some disappear

some last

blood 

and

sweat

dried 

and 

wet

slight chance 

slight edge

slight promise 

slight pledge

winds 

and 

waves

works

and

slaves

deep breath

deep thought

deep designs

deep plots

water

and

fluid

moments 

all

vivid

full life 

full road

full circle 

full load

earth 

and 

sky

down 

and 

high..

  count sure all under sun...
    world..mind..matter...ten to one...
       walk in air....drift and dare...
          little hurts...big gains....don't compare

  all winds pulling me apart...
      wish to breathe again..when to start...
           like falling leaves on forsaken ground...
               toss one to heaven...yet be spellbound...

 lost times...lost places...world lost on to me..
    losing the self... solace solemn and free...
      lines cutting through destiny and directions...
         joined in the middle..embracing all compulsions...

chiselled perfectly on each turn, a marvel,
   profile fit enogh to be in white marble
eyes , deep and drowning, that kept in bind
   gaze, pointed and probing, spoke to sleeping mind
 the glow of charishma, a charm of thousand roses
    the effect sublime, of absolutely aphrodasiac dozes
the hairs, dark and long, freely blowing with the breeze
    the nosetrils sensing,  filled with animated frreze
 the killing smile, a little knowing, on the rosy lips
   heartbeats, racing and thumping to a sudden skip
  what a moment, a celebration of truly divine creation
   what to say, a wonder of life, better than even imagination...

to each soul
the silence of sublime
deludes
the reason to become
the unbecoming.....
in spaces
of chaos and of silence
i am
unaware of such trials and tirbulations,
both
asleep  and  awake,
beyond reasons
known...
some say
i must have hurt myself badly
 to be so numb...so dumb...
others crumple over the dried torn
leaves of another time...
fusing life to lost times....

the torn
pieces of papers
lying
shattered
in the dustbin
blowing
 this
 and that,
too much
of indulging
 passion
 bore
it carried
 the emotions
so stuffed
ached
the heart
 bad enough
to glisten
the eyes
with a sigh
filled with 
disillusionment
of
a life time......

some thoughts
i carry
 that some
thoughts
would
carry me
through
to the horizon,
by chance
or
 by design,
to the realms
of pure bliss
and
till then
i must
 carry on
with
all
 my
strength ............

there would be time to complain
there would be time to explain
but for now
running past emotions of living in human sea
amidst times such as these
hot wind balloning in the open
cool conditioner keeping the interiors calm
the jungle of concretes mushrooming in every vacant land
the underbelly they say is warming globally
people on the street jostle for each inch of life 
each side of life
to reach to a damned destination
of silent onlookers
hooked on to the marshalled game 
of survival
survival of the sickest
till death do us part
till metaphors keep on losing their meanings
crusaders all gone
pretending to be messangers of something divine
not though this time
such is the times these days
i walk out of my door straight to the flux
of belief and disbelief
of stupid and sublime
of thousand lives and thousand deaths
there would be time to complain
there would be time to explain  

walk the same road
with the same twist
without any fear and pretense
all focussed and prepared
and prove the point
for memory might fail
for the world wants a confirmation
that you carry the same fire
all along
that the mirrors have not faded the mask
in grains of time
that the armour can still cover the aims
that your moments are not too heavy
down the road
to your lonely existence
that you can still create magic in your own eyes
to spellbound the world
that you've become 
more of what you always were
but doubts remained
till the last moment
none for any concern
just for some mindless fun.......