random verses on a beautiful world

Relocation

2007-04-29T01:32:00.000+05:30

For those of you who have been wondering what has happened these last 10 days, must inform you, that I have moved from Blogger.com. It was not a very difficult decision to make, and it was one that was made easier by the atrociously few features that Blogger offers.

I have moved on to Wordpress that offers a far more advanced and instantly likeable analytical details about the blog visitors than Blogger.

My new blog address is http://licencetorhyme.wordpress.com

This is my last post on this blog(request the readers to please bear with this relocation, I don't believe I will newn).ed to relocate again, unless Wordpress decides to close down.

_ GUPTA GHOST

Earth

2007-04-19T21:47:00.000+05:30

I come up against the unmovable, unshakeable, the mountain,
I wonder if it’s worth your effort, to bear its strain,
And whether it was always a part of you, or a recent outgrowth,
One that has for ages, known no diminution, and alas, no growth.

I try to reach out, and you stonewall yourself into a rock,
One even the fire cannot melt, or wind cannot unblock,
And yet, my tears that flow, like water over your jagged edges,
Turn them into pebbles, cascading themselves over your ridges.

Though speak, you cannot, you nevertheless nourish,
Those blossoms, whose fragrance I everyday cherish,
To reach me, your thoughts disintegrate into the dust,
To be carried by the wind, the only messenger you trust.

Through my moods, their expressions and feet, everyday I kick,
And yet you bear it, not a single groan, though it makes you sick,
Although firm, sometimes my feet into your heart do sink,
And yet you carry me, always holding me, from going over the brink.

- GUPTA GHOST

Fire

2007-04-19T21:44:00.000+05:30

I stand as I watch, its progress, an unstoppable blaze,
And I wonder, if there is something that you cannot set ablaze,
And burn in your frenzy, as if beyond containment,
Devouring everything and yourself into extinguishment.

At times, those eyes of yours, they potently simmer,
And just when they almost burn me, they slowly glimmer,
And I believe, I will be scalded, if I so much as even touch,
For, more than the distance, it’s the heat, that divides us so much.

And I think, is there any way, to bridge this gulf?
A way, that your fiery self can never ever engulf,
And it seems to me, that every time you cringe,
Your arms will envelope me, and begin to singe.

You rise up, steady and straight, just like a flame,
One that purifies, one that obliterates every shred of blame,
And you pursue, throw me off guard, with your inflammable charm,
Which never ceases to make doubt, if love is really so warm.

- GUPTA GHOST

Air

2007-04-19T21:43:00.000+05:30

Blowing across the land, an unstoppable gust,
You kiss this earth, and take away its dust,
It falls back, and you continue, like the wildest gale,
You keep returning, to caress me and regale.

Like the midnight breeze, you arrive every night,
Cajoling my heart, and everything else in sight,
You lift me onto your wings, up into flight,
And carry me aloft, till morning’s first light.

Every time you brush past me and my cheek,
I wonder, if there is something more you seek,
Seeing you amidst swaying flowers, people think you meek,
And yet against your seething best, there’s nothing not weak.

You waft in, through my every breath, and leave,
And bind me forever, by this life, that you thus weave,
One day, forever you will leave, when my time is due,
A day when I will lose, love, and most of all, YOU.

- GUPTA GHOST

Water

2007-04-19T21:31:00.000+05:30

Floating like a boat, on the waters of your heart,
I feel like a captain, one without his dependable chart,
I have no choice, as I am swept along with your flow,
I only wish, these moments could atleast go more slow.

Tippling and swaying, I don’t feel the need to float,
For, isn’t yours the love, that always keeps me afloat,
Every time I try to set foot, my feet you always wash,
For in you, is not my every thought, already awash.

You flow in, through me and out, a relentless tide,
Lashing out with a gentle ferocity, never out of stride,
Although all over me, you never cease to drench,
Surprisingly, you never spill over, onto the bench.

You are the flood, in which I will keep swirling,
As long as in this love, I see you smiling,
For love is like water, one that never breaks,.
One, on whose pounding, the very earth shakes.

- GUPTA GHOST

<..

Sorry for the delay of nearly a month. Was a little short of inspiration, although there never was a shortage of concepts. Was really difficult to find some inspiration after such a beautiful one on Aparna. But poets must move on, and muses change. Not for long though, am sure she is strong enough to pull me back in a few months, till then I have some interesting ones coming up.

The current series is one on the elements, and the metaphorical representation of love through the various facets of the elements that we know as the building blocks of life on earth. Next on the menu(probably in a few days), is a set of three poems about a hypothetical story narrated from the other person's eyes(for those who must have got tired of my girl-bashing, here's the answer, coming up), it was something I promised somebody more than a month back, so I hope, the posts in a few days will satisfy that person.

..>

Addictive Joy

2007-03-25T16:55:00.000+05:30

It’s been years, since I saw that smile again,
Though only an image, I still cannot restrain,
From wondering, how little has actually changed,
About the feelings, that your smile engaged.

Though in the mind, the vision is always there,
The eyes aren’t satisfied, with an image back somewhere,
They are starving to see it, with their own eyes,
And that still tells me, how slowly our time flies.

To them, you are the raindrop, that broke away,
From the cloud, to quench them, falling this way,
Within them, forever they wish, you would stay,
The mind, it’s jealous, it always makes them stray.

I have never seen it, ever leaving your face,
And never want to, even if only a passing phase,
And each time, the twinkle it leaves in your eye,
That’s just enough, to bid all agonies goodbye.

Seeing it, my overcome tears, always run back,
And a reluctant sorrow, turns its stubborn back,
My mind has only, to hear that laughter’s tinkle,
And it irons out, my every frown’s wrinkle.

Were times I wished, I could touch your laughter,
Feel it and hold it, for now and ever after,
Hold it before my thirsty eyes, and just stare,
Till the moment I have, not a breath to spare.

Felt content, watching those pearls, drop from your lips,
And when I tried, to hold them by my fingertips,
They just dissolved, melting themselves into me,
Flowing in like a joy, the happiest I could ever be.

Try as much, I can’t and don’t, want to let go,
And therefore keep being swept away, by its flow,
For those who feel, life has more sorrow than joy,
They have not yet tasted your smile, and its addictive joy.

- GUPTA GHOST

<--After more than two years, yesterday, I saw a photo of Aparna Reddy(Reddy no longer) on her Orkut profile, and checked out her blog. The first wave of nostalgia hit me, the moment I saw that photo, that smile it could still captivate, not that I doubted it for a moment, but the very idea being proved to my eyes still spellbound me enough to write about it, and those days when I used to submit the exam paper in 1 hour to sit and stare at her for 2 hours, and write "Searching For You" while at it.Still can't guess what game God was trying to play on me, by making such a smile, and showing it to me for two years and then keeping it etched on my memory, trying to have fun, seeing me wrestling with it.

Immediately I felt I had to write my feeling, I had to record this nostalgia. I couldn't sleep for the whole night yesterday, fighting with myself to finish the poem first and then sleep, but ultimately my laziness won. Not for long, today morning, the moment I woke up, the feeling started tormenting me again, and so I decide not to push my luck anymore and got down to this. Wish I could spend all my days just looking at her smiling, would make me prefer Earth over Heaven any day.-->

Where Love Has Gone

2007-03-22T17:28:00.000+05:30

Although its lips did move, I couldn’t hear it speak,
Was busy with thoughts, and their noises were at peak,
Else I would have seen it open the door, and walk out,
The room was empty, of that there was no doubt.

I ran out onto the street, to the fountain square,
Where will I head, I see its footprints everywhere,
Walking in all directions, and walking back again,
They were all over the place, like a monsoon rain.

I walked back into the room, now empty and so closed,
I wondered, was this where I had kept love confined,
Where I expected it to stay, until I gave it away,
And it lay there, knowing it wouldn’t see such a day.

Not even a window, where it could see or be seen,
With my mind as guardian, nobody more mean,
My science, my logic, a door it could never break,
I still wonder, how such a fortress, I could ever make.

And yet today, seeing this room empty, I begin to ponder,
Was it ever there, could I really have captured this wonder,
Did I hide it from all else and itself, behind this open door,
Or did it burst open, because there was too much to store.

Whatever the reason, there is no longer love in my heart,
A place I thought it would stay, till I told it to part,
But who was I to build a dam, to contain this flood,
One that blossomed forth from every new bud.

I try to forget it and move on, but I cannot restrain,
To think, of where love has gone, alone again,
But I know it will be back, oozing from my every pore,
If only I promise, to never again close that door.

- GUPTA GHOST

<--Special Thanks to Harold Robbins for the title. The moment I first saw it I fell in love with the title, I mean, the very thought, how could love go anywhere? Although have never got round the book itself, decided that I would explore that title as a thought one day, and dear Robbins, hear it is, for all that you gave me-->

Shadows

2007-03-21T22:36:00.000+05:30

People discussing them may seem out of place,
They themselves are never found out of place,
They walk with you, and run with you, all the way,
Yet they seem to vanish by the end of day.

Alive or dead, we shall always cast these aberrations,
For, of our own selves, are they not true reflections,
They change with our feelings, change like our mood,
Longer when in glee, and shorter when we brood.

When the light goes out of our dark lives,
It is not in darkness, that the shadow thrives,
It leaves you not, it just envelopes itself around you,
And walks with you, for longer than you knew.

It absorbs nothing, and it dissolves into nothing,
For it is not material, this slippery shadowy thing,
It moves against the light, like an actor in a play,
Yet that is the simplest, of the games it does play.

It is the image of the fears and troubles you carry along,
The ones that will make this journey seem more long,
And yet, it contains also the hopes of getting more strong,
To choose between the paths, right and wrong.

- GUPTA GHOST

<--Dedicated to Dear brother Satyajit, who had some reservations about shadows-->

You

2007-03-21T22:13:00.000+05:30

When the first ray of sunlight, caresses my face, I think of You,
Warming up the earth, before I can even set foot on the dew,
You burn up my eyes, and yet warm my heart,
A light that awakens, a light that emboldens.

When the first drop of rain falls on my shoe, I remember You,
Washing out the dust, painting the ground anew,
You clean out my emotions, yet nourish them again,
A rainfall that cleanses, a rainfall that rejuvenates.

When the first flower blooms in my garden, I smell You,
You bloomed in every street, in every hue that I knew,
And yet smelled the same, and felt the same,
The fragrance of life, the fragrance of love.

When the first tear flows down my cheek, I cherish You,
You surprise me, coming out just when overdue,
Yet all the while inside, never wanting to bother,
Droplets of sorrow, ones I cannot anymore gather.

When the first smile breaks across my face, I resemble You,
Though You never change, every time it seems new,
You smile through my days, and more through my nights,
A chuckle of delight, the laughter of pure joy.

When the fanfare of success arrives, I want You,
To keep me from claiming, more than my due,
As you did stay, in those moments of my failure,
From the extremities of feeling, a permanent cure.

When I walk under the moonlight, I know You,
One who makes me believe this night is true,
You never walked away, from the darkness of my life,
The beacon of my night, cajoling me into flight.

It makes me wonder, if all these things were You,
Or were they just subtle hints at what really is You,
All these things of yours, they have set me free,
But in reality, it is only YOU, that I yearn to see.

- GUPTA GHOST

Me And Myself

2007-03-17T19:54:00.000+05:30

I fell into a slumber, the likes of it I never knew,
But was somehow sure I was more awake than I knew,
I was hearing myself definitely snoring aloud,
Yet I was alone in the house, with nobody around.

I was trying to get up, but was stuck in the sleep,
I never knew I could, so far into it creep,
Yet there I was, alive and awake, looking at myself,
Confused, who was me, and who was myself.

I felt the pain tearing through my heart, through my breath,
And I began to think, was this the end, was this death,
That creature that everybody feared, but none had seen,
That comes unheralded, and covers you with its sheen.

In a few moments though, I knew not, because I turned aside,
In my sleep, unmindful of myself, sitting there by the bedside,
Myself began to talk, of my thoughts, their deeds and the results,
The times of agony, anguish, and those incessant insults.

He tried to pry me awake with the fear of its consequence,
I knew not, for I couldn’t feel him, or hear his cadence,
As it lilted on about my days here and redemption,
About how there wasn’t any more hope of salvation.

Until I mended my ways, and walked with him, step by step,
Yet, he wouldn’t let me get up, to begin at the first step,
And thus I didn’t know if he existed at all, was he there?
I looked around, and couldn’t see him anywhere.

He walked away, the moment I got awake,
Yet the trail to him, he never did break,
And I felt compelled to him everywhere,
Though not a word more, he would again share.

He led me by my hand, though he could never hold it,
And took me to the ends of places I could never visit,
Upon his light feet, he carried me into the light,
One that blinded and never needed human sight.

And under it, I saw upon myself, all those marks I had inherited,
Marks of the pain, the sorrows that I had long since inflicted,
Marks that stained the spotless white, of the dress I never wore,
And yet, I was sure, it wasn’t me, that I had seen snore.

It wasn’t me, that had done those deeds and could still smile,
It was an aberration, one whose misdeeds could only stockpile,
And yet, there it was, a life form, alive in its heartbeat,
So much alike, so much of me, it just threw me off my feet.

I knew not when I returned, only that it was over for now,
And I kept asking myself only one thing, “how, how”?
Every single word, I saw me confess, and yet hadn’t spoken,
And yet there it was, all crystal clear and unbroken.

The voice of me, or the voice of myself, I knew not,
It neither commanded, and it surely demanded not,
It lulled me off the heavenly cliff, though slippery and steep,
And back into this world, and its myth called sleep.

- GUPTA GHOST

<--A lyrical version of my experience today morning, when I felt torn apart from myself and watched as I talked to myself. The time came to a standstill as I conversed, and discussed my whole lifetime and its experiences, and watched every scene being shredded apart to reveal the stains behind them. Stains that would never go away, but ones that could have been prevented. I watched as I saw myself turning around, twisting and tossing in my sleep, and was yet talking to myself. An experience that I hope I get to see more often.-->

Yesterday's Gift

2007-03-17T18:33:00.000+05:30

Yesterday’s Gift, is the posterity, that it gives,
The permanence for a while, that memory can grant,
Before the sentinels of change produce their warrant,
And put an end to this unwarranted rant.

Yesterday’s Gift, is the mirror, that it gives,
To look into, and see, your yesterday’s face,
And all those moments, how did you face,
When you never knew, they were, but a passing phase.

Yesterday’s Gift, is the experience, that it gives,
Of knowing the consequences of the moves you made,
Ones that hastened those goodbyes that you bade,
Though all the while, your intellect, from doing so forbade.

Most of all, Yesterday’s Gift, is the power it gives,
To change the way each person today lives,
To ponder over the actions that always repeat,
And to begin the dance again, albeit, to a new beat.

- GUPTA GHOST

Moving Ahead

2007-03-17T18:19:00.000+05:30

When the chips are down, and you only have a frown,
When the person is gone, and the memories stillborn,
When the sunshine has melted, but the heat hasn’t relented,
When all doors are ajar, yet the destination is afar.

It is then you know, that your life is stuck,
And you have exhausted the last drop of luck,
With the first wave of loathing you are struck,
And you realize, this time, there’s no passing the buck.

You cannot for now forget, and maybe forever forgive,
But you know there’s something that’s got to give,
Tired of life and its memories, you can no longer live,
Yet death doesn’t come, allowing you to leave.

Your experience may have held you in good stead,
But to turn a new leaf, they prevent you instead,
Just remember, when all things come to a head,
The only progress you can make, is by moving ahead.

- GUPTA GHOST

Looking Around

2007-03-17T18:10:00.000+05:30

When all your life seems resigned to doom,
And you never want to get out of your room,
Just look outside, and see those flowers bloom,
And rest assured, you may never know gloom.

When you’ve burnt your entire life’s crop,
An you believe have reached a dead stop,
Just stretch out your hand, feel the raindrop,
And rest assured, you may never remember the flop.

When you are drowning in your mind’s wine,
And the foliage begins to surround like a vine,
Just walk outside, into the warm sunshine,
And rest assured, you’ll never fall short of hope’s twine.

In everyday life, these problems do abound,
And when you blink, they hesitate not to surround,
But when you feel their merciless grip has you bound,
There’s always an answer nearby, just look around.

- GUPTA GHOST

Igniting Spark

2007-03-17T18:00:00.001+05:30

When the days seem to get worser by the day,
And my resistance to failure begins to sway,
When the journey ends not, in this lifetime,
And I begin to start running out of time.

When I reach down to the bottom of my pocket,
And find nothing worthwhile that I did pocket,
When all the love has begun to wear,
And there’s not a single smile I can wear.

When friends of mine, are friends no longer,
And the list of enemies, gets to grow longer,
When they let go of me, relation by relation,
And I begin to wonder, is blood really a relation?

But then, this day is not really over,
Not until I am done, thinking it over and over,
It is the that I look, towards the igniting spark,
The One Inside, that resplendent dispeller of the dark.

- GUPTA GHOST

A Broken Life

2007-03-17T17:43:00.000+05:30

To wake up at dawn, and find you have nothing,
To walk into the lawn, and find a delayed spring,
When your footsteps sink, too deep into the ground,
And through the rest of life, there’s that recurring sound.

To look at me, giving out your best smile,
And yet, since you last felt satisfied, it’s been a long while,
I have seen you many a time, trying desperately to talk,
But I’ve always backed away, for, aren’t we cheese and chalk.

You have tried to talk me out of this, just forget it,
Your blow didn’t miss and has already deeply hit,
You may take the pain away, but not the scar,
It will stay on, as a reminder, of how relations mar.

Pardon me if I have sounded too curt,
But I want you to know how much I hurt,
Alas, it’s a sorrow, that you can never compare,
For, you have broken my life, beyond repair

- GUPTA GHOST

<-- Readers shall please ignore the contents and mood of this one and the one below it. They were started at a time when I was really bitter, about an year ago, and since I cannot stay bitter for more than an hour, I couldn't get myself to complete these two, beyond the first two paragraphs that I had then simultaneously written. Was going through my notebooks today, and found these in my incomplete works, and have struggled to complete them, although you won't find the bitterness of the first half in them, the reason being I no longer have it.-->

Can You Wait

2007-03-17T17:41:00.000+05:30

With sunrise begins another brand new day,
For how long today, can you remain on the highway,
When your feet begin to ache, and your mind buckles away,
How much longer you can wait, only you can say.

When the rainfall ends, and the desert begins,
No matter how strong, your determination thins,
When darkness rules, and the night never ends,
And the farther you go, there are still more bends.

When all you want, are a few moments of my time,
And yet are turned away, like in a totalitarian regime,
When you stand by my side, all through daylight,
Hoping atleast once, I will take you into my sight.

When the charms of persistence, force you to surrender,
And yet, you cannot run away from my splendour,
When you know this tide will forever, not abate,
And yet, just like I did, can you still wait.

- GUPTA GHOST

Face To Face

2007-03-12T16:03:00.000+05:30

Describing to others what it cannot observe,
The mouth has thus no purpose to serve,
And the mind is unfortunately or not, dumb,
And so to the limitations of words, doesn’t succumb.

If only the eyes that see could just speak,
But alas, they are content to watch and seek,
They bother not, with the intricacies of speech,
For, within their sight, is a far greater reach.

When the waves within stop to think,
And the eyelids suddenly forget to blink,
And the shadows around begin to shrink,
Before you can again start to wink.

Writing your name on the sand as parchment,
Only to be washed away by waves of excitement,
Welling up within, ready for an outburst,
If only my eyes could ever quench their thirst.

Afraid to cry and wash your reflection away,
Yet hesitant to blink and forget the way,
Looking into your eyes, I can see myself there,
But deeper within, am I there somewhere?

Ask yourself this, when you make your decision,
And just think, what if, you were in my position,
To lose out on the chance to forever embrace,
Because someone decided not, to talk face to face.

- GUPTA GHOST

<-- After a brief 5 poem tribute to Chint2, am back with my kinda poems -->

<--Those of you who read this blog regularly(if any) must please excuse my irregularity in posting, that is evident here. Its purely because I never find time to write in my already cramped schedule, and am already lagging far behind in my other blog. So I have decided to bring my other blog upto date and hence have dedicated my spare time until the 16th for this purpose. Will be back on the 17th with about 7 new poems that I have written in the meantime.

Forgive the eccentric work nature that I have, I never write a single poem a day, I get into the mood and write sometimes about 10 a day, and then don't write anything for about a week because I don't feel like. Need the thirst to write.-->

First Love

2007-03-12T15:24:00.000+05:30

I walk up to the college, where we first met,
And see if I can find, what I can no longer forget,
All that remains, is the building and the playground,
With no trace of you having been around.

I walk up to the bench, where we first sat,
When you first laughed and gave me a pat,
But the bench no longer has our impression,
Time has given it more people in succession.

I walk up to the tree, where I first wrote your name,
On the day that you took on all my worthless blame,
But it has got new leaves, and grown some bark,
And besides, there are lots like it, in the park.

I walk up to the store, where we first shared ice-cream,
But it is long since those tables have left that dream,
Because more people still come in to share,
Those last crumbs of feelings they have, to spare.

Everything that we treasured has since moved on,
Yet there was one place I found, that refused to go on,
Deep in my heart, there’s a room that’s still waiting,
One that’s immune to the tribulations of awaiting.

- GUPTA GHOST

Illusions

2007-03-12T15:15:00.000+05:30

We talked through the ravines of the night,
Into the lap of dawn’s first light,
We talked of our lives, yours and mine,
And how each had lost its own shine.

About the smile that had never faded,
Despite the mires that we have long waded,
And how it managed to keep us together,
Through hard times, and all the rough weather.

About the stares we gave each other,
Oblivious to time, oh, just don’t bother,
When the looks traveled further within,
Until the distance became too thin.

About the love that wrapped us in a cocoon,
Making us impervious to either noon or moon,
And the stars couldn’t have come, a moment too soon,
To see us splashing around, in the mind’s lagoon.

Although that love is no longer there,
Search within, and you may find it somewhere,
Until then, don’t stop this talking in midstream,
Else I will have to wake up from this dream.

- GUPTA GHOST

Yesterday

2007-03-12T15:13:00.000+05:30

It was only yesterday, that I had seen,
Through those eyes, what a pair we had been,
The stroll that we took, down the park,
Holding your hand, maybe forever, into the dark.

I never knew a person could want anymore,
Once they had their fill of you, and your life,
I just looked into those eyes that constantly reassure,
That all this before me, is for real and sure.

Those times we spent, along the shore,
Gazing at the waves, that would never catch up,
When the nights were lit up, just by your smile,
Calling all those ships, even beyond a mile.

Those days when I waited outside your door,
To see you, before this conniving world did,
And take you by my hand, down the street,
Ah, was there a place, we never did meet.

But that was yesterday, yet there’s more in store,
Your hair no longer brushes by your cheeks,
You neither smile, nor look into me anymore,
But I still keep walking everyday, to the shore.

- GUPTA GHOST

Just Once More

2007-03-12T14:56:00.001+05:30

I walk up the mountains, where it’s really cold,
Anyway, you are beyond feelings, I am told,
What will the little boy do, once he has sold,
When he no longer has that innocence, that gold.

To walk beside you, I thought myself bold,
To talk to you, and your hand to just hold,
To take you to the fountain, am I too old,
That on seeing me, those eyelids begin to fold.

I gave to you, the laughter and joy I owned,
One that I wouldn’t for life, have pawned,
You took it with your smile and locked it away,
Where, forever in darkness, it is doomed to stay.

I stretched my hand to help you across,
Yet it remained behind, to remind me of the loss,
I have nothing left to give you, objects don’t count,
Yet you remain the peak that I can never surmount.

Still, I decide to try, just once more,
Ignoring those feelings inside my core,
I shall walk for you, to the ends of nowhere,
But, will you be there, when I get there?

- GUPTA GHOST

Keeping You Alive

2007-03-12T14:48:00.000+05:30

It’s long since you left me to be alone,
Leaving to fly away, as if airborne,
Yet I land safely with your memories,
Their simplicity, and their untold worries.

May the sun never set on your delight,
Though for the world, it may already be night,
With the covers of darkness I shall fight,
To keep that smile on your face forever bright.

I shall fight with sleep, temporal and eternal,
To keep your eyes away from their sojournal,
To keep them twinkling, alive and awake,
So another day of joy, they can partake.

I won’t let death take your heart away,
Even if it means putting mine in the way,
For, I cannot let a life like yours stray,
Into the foggy mists of an eternal grey.

People said it was useless, you were already dead,
They know not, because they know you, only in the head,
And when they know you, like my heart,
They will understand why we cannot part.

- GUPTA GHOST

Castaway

2007-03-12T14:45:00.000+05:30

From those pictures of us, you may throw me away,
I care not, because I am more than a mere photo.
From those letters of ours, you may tear me away,
I care not, because I am more than mere words.

From those mementos of ours, you may break me away,
I care not, because I am more than mere clay,
From the reflection in your eyes, you may wash me away,
I care not, because I am more than a tear.

From the times of laughter, you may frown me away,
I care not, because I am more than mere joy,
From the shackles of our bond, you may break away,
I care not, because I am more than an emotion.

From the depth of your heart, you may cast me away,
I care not, because I aren’t going anywhere,
How far away you threw, you have no clue,
For, I am you, around and within you.

- GUPTA GHOST

Teardrops

2007-03-11T02:35:00.000+05:30

It begins at birth, and the pangs never end,
With shrieks and sobs, the air they rend,
Though more often, they live in silence,
They signal a plea for attention and deference.

They well up in times of joy and happiness,
And flow out at the onset of sadness,
They cling on for further existence,
Yet show no signs of your inner resilience.

As they run along, they skim the surface,
And look for the undulations on your face,
That allow them to live a moment longer,
Until your emotions can get much stronger.

People say teardrops are just salted water,
That its just plain expulsion of matter,
But teardrops aren’t just a pack of secretions,
They hide behind them, bundles of emotions.

Times when you are sad, and dejected,
Times when you are angry at being rejected,
Times when words can no longer express,
The feelings inside and their distress.

They are droplets of your pent-up agony,
They are droplets of your life’s disharmony,
They are the heralders of your pleasure,
And also reminders of a lost treasure.

They are your dreams rolling down,
Upon receiving the world’s frown,
They are your joy spreading around,
Upon reaching the pinnacle of solid ground.

They are the syllables of the heart,
One that is mute, and torn apart,
And needs a voice that can be seen,
And a representation of what you’ve been.

They fall off, and dry up even more soon,
Yet they leave behind their signature boon,
A memory that shall always call them back,
For forgetfulness is something teardrops lack.

- GUPTA GHOST

Cup Of Love

2007-03-11T01:55:00.000+05:30

It is gilded not in gems and diamonds, but in its own mirth,
It is begins to fill not in youth, but long before birth,
It is filled every second by an unknown hand,
One that permeates every grain of silken sand.

It fills itself to the brim, and even more,
Yet no one has ever seen it overflow,
The more it is filled, you need it all the more,
Yet it falls back on itself, until you can go slow.

It replenishes itself without any scarcity,
And never manages to ever get empty,
It swirls around itself in merriment,
That it showers on those in detriment.

It glides down your throat, and heads for the heart,
Yet, when you search, and it is found, in every part,
It fills your brain, your mind, yet doesn’t intoxicate,
It oozes its persona, that nobody can ever replicate.

It sweeps you off your feet, and takes you into street,
And makes you utter words, you will never repeat,
It nudges you forward with every new heartbeat,
And picks you up, from your every defeat.

It belongs not to you, nor to the maker,
Yet it quenches the thirst of every partaker,
For the cup of love grows upon its own self,
Every time you share a portion of yourself.

- GUPTA GHOST

<--Inspired by the thoughts of Kahlil Gibran on Love, read it about 7 years back, but still remember the feeling it brought about, although I don't remember a single line. The next one will be about tears, although I have already written one earlier on it (Teardrop), felt that it was too short to describe the whole experience, so have taken a new angle to it.

After that one and another one on my kinda love, I shall move on to an experimental area that was opened to me by Chint2 on his blog. Although I have happened to read a lot of personal poems before, none of them inspired me to even consider writing one, but these were special, they were so intense and involving, that I decided to try some for myself as a tribute to Chint2's trademark, 'personal, involving and relentless'-->

Catharsis

2007-03-10T16:33:00.000+05:30

Depressed beyond words, I decide to clean up my life,
I look into myself, and look at all that needs cleaning,
The sorrows, the breakups, the anger, the hatreds, my whole life,
Stands in need of a good whitewash and some forgetting.

The anger, the hatred, that redden the walls around me,
Need just some painting to blend in and begin anew,
But what of those breakups that will just not let me be,
The sticky grime of sorrows, will it ever let me subdue.

Those are but splashes, that with effort can be cleaned,
And will appear as if they have forever gleamed,
But, what of the love, splashed all across the floor,
So much so, it even overflows beneath the door.

It neither flows nor stagnates, yet leaves a stain,
One that has been relegated, for eternity to remain,
It meanders not, and endears itself to everything in touch,
It fills itself, in every corner, yet no amount is too much.

It needs a strong will to forget it, and move over,
And time I had heard, was the greatest stain remover,
That it could flush the sorrows out of the deepest recess,
And even cleanse the emotions that one cannot access.

Yet I found it ineffective against love, that merely faded,
Which gave it even more appeal, one that was jaded,
It poured itself through the cracks in the shaky ground,
And ingrained itself within, where no senses abound.

Time found itself incapable, though not for the first time,
Because stubborn love, had flooded it into a grave sublime,
My exercise was in vain, for I just couldn’t cleanse myself,
From the remains of God’s greatest stain, HIMSELF.

- GUPTA GHOST

Into Your Life

2007-03-09T00:05:00.000+05:30

When its time, to describe your entire life in a day,
And you know, you can’t recall every moment on the way,
Times of joy may never in your memory, for long stay,
Of the times when you cried, you will definitely say.

When you have 24 hours, to describe all your years,
To explain your tears, and their underlying fears,
Do I atleast share a minute in your narration,
Or did I just seem a fantasy of your creation.

Let me be the river that flows into your existence,
Flowing down your throat like the elixir of subsistence,
Washing away the worries that cling to your feet,
Enriching the thirsty ground, wherever we meet.

Let me be the sun that brightens your day,
That warms your soul, all along the way,
There won’t be a place you will miss my ray,
Like your shadow, I shall return as long as you stay.

Let me be the wind that blows into your face,
In your every breath, let me leave my trace,
Soaring with your heart, in an earthly grace,
Without my presence, may you never find a place.

Let me simmer into your life, like the fire,
That burns within you, and your every desire,
Along the path, let me be your candle’s flame,
Through water and wind, burning all the same.

Just let me walk in through your heart’s door,
And you’ll never have the need for anything more,
I may not be God, to stop all your tears,
Atleast I’m human, to cry with you for years.

Let me in as the dew, or the ever-settling dust,
Let me in as anything, that for life is a must,
In the midst of all this chaos, confusion and strife,
Have faith, and just let me, into your life.

- GUPTA GHOST

<--This one is dedicated to my definition of love, which many have defined as 'impractical, unrealistic, and even downright loony', but that doesn't change it from being LOVE-->

Finding You

2007-03-07T12:53:00.000+05:30

On a fine summer morning, upon opening my brow,
Find the landscape around me, filled with unseasonal snow,
Amidst the vast expanse of white, a budding blossom of pink,
So startlingly contrastive, that it sets my mind to think.

The snow laden path to you, seems a figment of imagination,
As my crunching footfall sets the pace to the destination,
With the cold morning wind blowing me your assurance,
My hunger for your glimpse quickly gobbles the distance.

Across the horizon, is steadily rising, the morning sun,
A daily reminder of the countless miles I have won,
As the rising mercury spreads its warmth on creation,
My Venus, your memories help maintain my composition.

I seem paralysed watching the time go by,
As mile upon mile nimbly seems to fly,
Continuously in stationary motion, I am not sure why,
As my stamina for you, continues to grow high.

The noon seems to approach way too soon,
Surprisingly, my body doesn’t begin to swoon,
Trudging on for you, like a glass pane bright,
Absorbing the heat, reflecting your faceless light.

At the edge of land, the sand’s all around,
My foot sinks in with each step on ground,
Ahead lies the water, one that knows no bound,
Like the depths of my heart, surely not yet found.

Venturing in, I see the waves reach a standstill,
As if forgetting to blink, awaiting your will,
Deeper inside, the path is rougher than a hill,
Expecting a Messiah, to someday dry it up and till.

The sky opens up, pouring soothingly slow,
There’s water all around, above and below,
Yet I push on, having no other place to go,
Drenched throughout, halfway through the show.

As a speck in the horizon, at last I spot land,
And strange shivers run through, from head to hand,
The whole experience totally bleaching me bland,
Waiting to finally grab a fistful, of sand, dear sand.

Upon firm ground the picture doesn’t change,
Try all I can, my limited thoughts to arrange,
The entire journey somehow seems strange,
With you laughing on, always out of range.

Finally at an end, it all seems only a beginning,
As I try to shake off an unexplainable feeling,
Of having to start it all over once again,
Putting my journey and its travails in vain.

Your presence, then dispels all doubts away,
As I recoup all the energy spent on way,
Hoping you’ll forever, beside me stay,
If only just for a moment, hour or day.

The emotions still left, are pushing through,
Trying to cover, all that I have been through,
Justice enough I deem it, on merely seeing you,
Yet, distance enough I know not, to talk to you.

I find not the strength, to stand by your side,
Having spent it all, traveling the world wide,
Looking to the heart, where you’ll always abide,
Hoping you don’t’ notice me lagging in stride,
To laugh or cry by myself, unable to decide,
Upon finally finding you, all the while inside.

- GUPTA GHOST

<--This one is dedicated to someone who made 1 portion of the 'purpose of my life' complete-->

<--Special thanks to Nisha Ahuja for pointing out that this poem was missing and thus helping me post it, because this one occupies a special corner of my heart-->

Distant Dreams

2007-03-07T00:17:00.000+05:30

I open my eyes, and see your gaze upon me,
Beyond those eyes, there’s a lot I can see,
Moments of joy, and those of solitary pain,
Seconds of ecstasy, that were long since lain.

They seek to tell me something, those eyes,
But your lips don’t ever let them get so wise,
They part, as if to utter something from within,
But close unto silence, even before they begin.

I too have those feelings, of wanting to share,
But have always waited for you, so we could pair,
That time may never come, like a distant dream,
Knowing how reluctant we both now seem.

What a fine example of hesitation we both make,
We never speak the feeling, or leave it to break,
And yet everyday, you stare at me, and I back,
To acknowledge to each other, the words we lack.

When it’s time to drift apart, each to our way,
There will still be so much that’s left to say,
But like our dreams, you’ll keep it to yourself,
And mine shall be left, all to myself.

- GUPTA GHOST

<--Thanks to Divya for the idea, like I told her, this is my take from the other person's shoes-->

<--Original post can be found at the link below-->

I Tell You In My Dreams

Pray For Me Brother

2007-03-05T21:12:00.000+05:30

You have always been busy, with your everyday life,
To earn and provide, for your children and wife,
To go up the ladder, whence you can provide even more,
But how much do you need, how much can you store.

When your plate and belly are full, what more can you eat,
When clothed for today and tomorrow, what more will you wear,
When sheltered from the elements, the rain and the heat,
How much more space do you think is really fair.

Throw that extra food down the drain, you paid for it,
Atleast the next time, think of how much I needed it,
Build yourself that palace of your dreams, that apartment,
Atleast some day, think of me on the adjoining pavement.

Buy yourself those coats of mink and many a fancy trinket,
Atleast remember, I could always do with even a torn blanket,
Break all your belongings in fits of anger and depression,
Atleast remember, I never even had such a possession.

Never mind if you just cannot spare or even share,
Mine is a sorrow somebody always has to bear,
Just happened to be me for today,
There were always others, and always will be, everyday.

I ask not for your savings, I ask not for your pension,
All I ask for is awareness, and a little bit of attention,
All that I wish is that you know, that there’s someone like me,
And then its your choice, to decide how to let things be.

Your effort can make a difference, even if only to one,
Yet all I ask is a prayer, for you, me and everyone,
That this message reaches someone who would really care,
Someone with a heart, an extra pair and a desire to share.

- GUPTA GHOST

<--Thanks to A.R.Rahman for the inspiration and Blaaze for the Title

Hope people listen to the song "Pray For Me Brother". Its Really awesome-->

Into The Jungle

2007-03-02T01:31:00.000+05:30

The sun beats down on the broken traveler,
As he scurries around for scarce a shelter,
But where can he hide, out in the open,
Like the meaning hiding behind a coaxing pen.

Step by step, he goes, repeatedly tripping,
Twines of hope, and joy, tightly gripping,
Yet a few paces forward, inexplicably slipping,
Beads of perspiration have long been dripping.

Broken in the body, breaking in the mind,
With no one present, to push him from behind,
Lurking in the undergrowth are creatures of despair,
Fear of failure, they make for a deadly pair.

Persevering, he forces himself to trudge further,
Poor man, he knows not, the horizon is always farther,
All those miles gone by are just a headstart,
Into the jungle, called a “Woman’s Heart”.

- GUPTA GHOST

Waking Up

2007-03-02T01:28:00.000+05:30

Just the two of us, walk up to the edge of the lawn,
Waiting for the sun, to break out from the dawn,
To pry apart from our feet, the morning dew,
And witness the buds begin blossoming anew.

Walking down the path, holding your hand,
Weak in the knees, I cannot anymore stand,
Yet managing to hold on, as you stare into my eyes,
And we start drifting, through the blushing skies.

To ask you to slow down, is surely no crime,
As I try to catch up, with the fleeting time,
That refused to stop as you swirled in my arms,
Freezing me cold with the spell of your charms.

Yet despite the direction your memory tries to blow,
We are separated forever by a tiny little window,
Through which the sun’s rays begin to gleam,
Waking me up from this never-ending dream.

- GUPTA GHOST

Flowing Away

2007-03-02T01:24:00.000+05:30

I still cant remember when they began,

Or for how long and far they just ran,
It seemed only yesterday that they had a cause,
But even while it withered, they never had to pause.

They flow into the cracks of your every burden,
And wash them away before they can harden,
Although it has been quite a long while,
They still spread themselves across your smile.

For the times when you totally lost control,
Upon you like raindrops during an evening stroll,
For the times when the days were dark,
All around you like a sprinkler in the park.

Yet all through life, you can never feel,
Although they drench you from head to heel,
Despite discreetly being able to hold their sway,
Those were my tears, beginning to flow away.

- GUPTA GHOST

A Flickering Lamp

2007-03-02T01:21:00.000+05:30

Walking in the night, the moonlight as a guide,
I feel as though I have abundant time to bide,
Looking around, I find no place to safely hide,
From the growing anxiety underneath my hide.

From all sides the forces are closing upon me,
Recasting doubts on what my mind can see,
From the edges of twilight you suddenly appear,
Like a resurfaced apparition of a long-drowned fear.

Floating on the top of my mind’s deepest recess,
You seem to laugh at my life’s horrible mess,
At the turmoil and pain, that seem in excess,
Yet permitting through them, patches of success.

My mind tries to revolt, and run away fast,
As I consume myself to breathe till you last,
Walking away, you leave my hopes damp,
Counting my time, like a flickering lamp.

- GUPTA GHOST

Just By Changing

2007-03-02T01:13:00.000+05:30

To look up at the stars and begin to dream,
About why things aren’t always the way they seem,
Why life holds back surprises till the last moment,
When it becomes too late to apologize or repent.

When the days pass by, busy in sustenance,
And ridicule is what you face for penance,
When objects of form have no underlying substance,
And they try to fool you, at the next possible instance.

When to your worries and troubles, nobody will listen,
And your downfall, everybody is trying to hasten,
When all your endeavors end up in nothing,
And you dread the suffering tomorrow will bring.

It is time to wake up to the world of realities,
Of the foregone chances and missed opportunities,
And every night you realize, there will be another morning,
When your life can be improved, just by changing.

- GUPTA GHOST

Walking Away

2007-03-02T01:02:00.000+05:30

The pages have yellowed with the passage of time,
Leaving irrefutable proof of a broken heart’s crime,
Of believing in a feeling that is long past its prime,
And its endurance of persisting, even when clocks don’t chime.

Being chained by the shackles of a single emotion,
Whose ripples overflow beyond the confines of the ocean,
Walking along its path with a single minded devotion,
Dejected at not finding the promised alchemist’s potion.

Yet happy to be free, trying desperately to flee,
As far from the mind, as a human can possibly be,
For, just around the corner, is looming darkness,
One that wipes away the contours of happiness.

The scanty moonlight, only guides me over a thorn,
Causing the coursing adrenaline to be stillborn,
Curtailing me back to those memories and days,
That are so pleasant a pain, like the burning sun’s rays.

I know not how high above the eagle flies,
For, when I look, you are stuck in my eyes,
Where, challenging me, you will forever stay,
No matter how much longer I keep walking away.

- GUPTA GHOST

One More Time

2007-03-02T01:01:00.000+05:30

As my longing for you gets stronger and stronger,
The sandglass of my shadow, grows longer and longer,
My heart goes fasting every moment for your laughter,
One that makes my heart beat a good pace faster.

To your heart, I don’t think I can make the trip,
Afraid lest on the way, our friendship may trip,
The farther you go, the difficult it is to stay in race,
With you, the mortal fairy of the fairer race.

Your beauty increasing like the start of each dawn,
In what way to tell you, upon my senses doesn’t dawn,
Every time in this contest am left behind to trail,
Leaving failure’s imprint, a very shameful trail.

A bystander’s eyes would rather wish me die,
Than see me fail, trying to look you in the eye,
As the morning ages, my shadow soon runs out of time,
But I still beg you, just let me tell you one more time.

- GUPTA GHOST

Breaking The Bond

2007-03-02T00:58:00.000+05:30

It wasn’t very difficult to just fall into,
And seemed much simpler to fall out too,
The path seemed clear as daylight ahead,
But the lingering darkness, knew not, where to head.

When I finally decided to fully surrender,
It didn’t pain or cause me to really wonder,
That giving up pride was really worth bearing,
Or surrendering to a feeling was worth caring.

I felt fairly recompensed at that moment,
Not sure which way the winding path went,
Bothered not with how my endurance bent,
It was all fine, as long as a smile you lent.

The day seemed bright, right unto the night,
For all the day, God kept you in my sight,
And when night dawned, sent you as the moon,
So that I wouldn’t, out of longingness swoon.

I didn’t care when you slowly started to wane,
Knowing fully, it was only to become whole again,
Like the sadness that wouldn’t dare your face stain,
For, through your eyes, your smile was beyond restrain.

Days flew swiftly, held aloft on ceaseless wings,
Unaware of how subtly the passage of time stings,
Yet to descend down them, memories they bring,
Of opening my mouth, almost beginning to sing.

Yet always almost stopping at the lip’s edge,
Where my mind drove in an unsurpassable wedge,
Stopping my restless thoughts reaching your ears,
Maybe even stopping my heart from shedding tears.

Although I believed your heart to be always open,
I limited myself to the tribulations of the pen,
Within me, I feel the shaky fault lines deepen.
Distancing my mind from memories of now and then.

But my heart refuses to stop a journey just begun,
And devoid of support to revel in mirth and fun,
It trudged along the fringes of a beaten track,
With the passersby constantly urging it to turn back.

Every frustrated time that I decided to quit,
Your redeeming smile deemed my purpose fit,
To keep you smiling, just when you begin to frown apart,
For, with you, every ending shows a new way to start.

Just when it seemed this was an endless game,
I had to suddenly limit my time with your physical frame,
And let go, of my desire to keep chanting your name,
Being content, that into my life you atleast came.

All through the day you never said a word,
And revealing my heart, I never could afford,
Feelings for you, I tried by the bundles, to hoard,
Until it dawned, on a sinking journey, they weren’t onboard.

Destined to fly the night, far apart and away,
To follow you, I know not the conscious way,
All I could do, was look within and silently pray,
That you would decide to return and forever stay.

For, what couldn’t endure separation for a day,
Would surely not stay till morning’s first ray,
Stumbling along and trying not to go astray,
To meet morning before it came across my way.

Te air seems suffused, with a fragrance never used,
Making me pardon, if you really would have refused,
To save you the embarrassment and the disgrace,
I decided to never let you see, the love behind my face.

Although you’ll never be able to see my pain,
I’m glad that I’ve been able to see you gain,
Although destiny ordained us to forever part,
I never knew how badly it would pull at my heart.

I tried to forget it and water down the embers,
But what the mind forgets, the heart long remembers,
Till the inhibitions crumble and the mind’s will, dissolve,
There is no stopping the onslaught of a broken heart’s resolve.

The receding sun never sets on the heart’s desire,
And yet the staring eyes never seem to tire,
From the constant adulation of you they inspire,
Saving your memories from failure’s blazing pyre.

Sadly, my mind was adamant to really agree,
That happiness could come from being free,
For, its words always seem weak and hollow,
When it tries, the distant mirages to follow.

I cannot control or put out this mental fire,
As I sink deeper into its enchanting mire,
Speak no more, for I seem to deserve no pity,
Only your return can resurrect this hopeless entity.

Wherever you stay, you’re never too far away,
To your heart, I’ll always know the way,
But life seems very empty, down-and-out,
When you are no longer there to care about.

Deep within, I know that it is just not fair,
To want you, when about me you don’t even care,
But the realization is too difficult to bear,
Such is the nature, of this bond that we share.

Nothing between us can keep us from liberation,
Because we share the unique bond of separation,
Just as destined, we were simply torn apart,
From the dream, that was doomed, never to start.

Looking into my eyes, you will never be able to find,
The feeling that for long has been soaking my mind,
I am reluctant to move on, leaving all this behind,
But destiny and my decisions haven’t been particularly kind.

The tree though wanting, has to let go of ripe fruits,
Or stand to risk losing the source of its future roots,
I have realized the pervading agony of growing too fond,
Ironically paired with the burden of breaking the bond.

- GUPTA GHOST

Between Us

2007-03-02T00:55:00.000+05:30

This is certainly not going to be the last time,
That I will try to deeply tell you something,
Although I fear, you will deem it a great crime,
I strongly wish to confess to you, my only fling.

Every time I see the matchless curves of your face,
I feel like hurling myself into your warm brace,
Every time I see you walking with an inimitable grace,
My heart sets upon itself, a beat of pounding race.

I try to open my mouth, emerging from the shadows,
However I stop, unsure which way the wind blows,
Every step you take, I would like to forever follow,
However I stop, scared you’ll think my heart hollow.

Talking to you, I feel all my words slowly melt,
Thinking it will change the way you always felt,
I am happy though sad, to let things be as they are,
So that I can always love you, as an unreachable star.
- GUPTA GHOST

A Step Forward

2007-03-02T00:53:00.000+05:30

Every time your delicate foot you set on ground,
My heart feels a joy so pervasively abound,
My lips let forth the ecstasy of sound,
At the discovery of a happiness refound.

With my desires constantly piling up as a mound,
Always within your footsteps, I follow you around,
Hoping to speak to you, of my message profound,
Alas your grim lips, push my hopes aground.

My hopelessness to convey to you, doesn’t seem to astound,
The lyrical reply from you, that catches me on rebound,
Within this relation, I see us eternally bound,
With no further hope of completing the round.

A step forward by myself is surely to be found,
Towards your melting reply with its long resound,
Close upon my heels is my conscience like a hound,
Trying to reassure that the next step will heal the wound.

- GUPTA GHOST

An Angel's Word

2007-03-02T00:49:00.000+05:30

Ever since I heard it from you, the whole world seems anew,
Like the inseparable dawn and dew, you painted me in a crystal hue,
Awaiting your word I shall never swerve, for I only desire what I deserve,
I wait in this dark night, for your approval to paint it morning white.

Every time I shiver, I see you flowing beside, comforting like a river,
Your voice creates ripples in the sky, making the parting clouds cry,
The resonance, even the water does flatter, making the incessant flutter,
The trees in the breeze swing, in the melody of the rhythm you bring.

It’s been a long time since I heard, you mind-soothing word,
Yet the sky did not fall, nor did the earth snowball,
The rivers ceased not to flow, the night moon ceased not to glow,
The sound doesn’t stop expressing voice, the breath has no choice.

Your voice is no longer a wonder, whose word me to ponder,
I can no longer just achieve, what you made me to believe,
When it all seemed a dream, suddenly there shone across a beam,
I hoped neither a man or a herd, could stop an angel’s word.

-GUPTA GHOST

Alone Once Again

2007-03-01T02:09:00.000+05:30

Now that I live to face this expected moment,
Knowing you and myself, I no longer lament,
I look back at those emotions we gave vent,
And after all that has happened, I no longer repent.

Events which led to this decision, we could not prevent,
And what remains of the accident is the dent,
As a last try to reconcile, a message I sent,
I don’t know where in the wind it went.

Let’s just forget our memories like an accident,
And wipe off the happiness, we each other lent,
Like we did with the times together we spent,
For my forgiving heart hasn’t one bit bent.

The joy of loneliness is like living in an open-air tent,
With nobody to ask your feelings for rent,
And finally what remains of you, is not the pain,
But the latent joy of being alone once again.

- GUPTA GHOST

Wings Of Fire

2007-03-01T02:07:00.001+05:30

Destiny in its mercy, takes me along on its “Wings of Fire”,
Wings that preserve me from the temptations of demon desire,
Towards my unreached goals with fervor, these wings propel,
Maintaining my sense of judgement, when circumstances compel.

These “Wings of Fire” taught me, that in life everyone must stumble,
But only the wise, get up and walk, without even a grumble,
Tomorrow is yesterday’s child; a seed of today’s sown fruit,
My “Wings of Fire” guide me thus, through misfortune’s ugly root.

Like a stinging needle, it aches my bleeding heart,
When people strongly decline in calmness any part,
Even the words of wisdom, which resemble water on embers,
How long since they were heeded, no one ever remembers.

My “Wings of Fire” conquered for me, the enormous sadness peak,
Whereupon truth is blazingly revealed, like a lightning streak,
Wherever I go, everlasting happiness to me it brings,
While itself humbly being, a pair of fiery little wings.

- GUPTA GHOST

Utopia

2007-03-01T02:05:00.000+05:30

At the beginning of the Golden Era was a flowery springtide,
Trumpeting and heralding aloud the prophetic call, wide,
His cascade of Love came forth flooding and gushing,
To all people, of all creeds, ceaselessly rushing.

His words, like a stream, came gently tumbling,
Saving a dejected spiritual traveller from stumbling,
His reminiscent smile constantly lights up all lives,
The merger with this Light the individual strives.

When greed, hate and anger are placid and calm,
Love and Peace serve as the indispensable balm,
The Golden Age shall lead to brotherhood and unity,
Pursuing together the winding path to Divinity.

The long promised UTOPIA of joyousness is at hand,
As the Divine Shepherd leads us to His Divine, grazing land,
Ideal sheep we must be, at the call of His invisible wand,
Awaiting the promised Era, so scintillatingly grand.

- GUPTA GHOST

Twinkling Flowers

2007-03-01T02:03:00.000+05:30

A gardener wakes up, ready every morning, his garden to tend,
Plucking weeds, sprinkling water, there isn’t a fence he doesn’t mend,
Lord, You too are a gardener, nurturing us to our destined end,
A gardener without sleep, all our life with us you spend.

You watched over me, as I sprouted from a seed into a sapling,
You stepped aside, as I grew sturdy, gently and silently laughing,
Watching me in the centre of all glory, majestically basking,
Proud of my stature, my standing, the source without asking.

You taught me to care, and showed me how to share,
And I let, birds to rest until daybreak in their nest,
While I stand scorched under the sun’s rays, that hurt like a blade,
You told me to offer to one and all, my fruit and my shade.

We are like stars in Your sky,
Upholding Your commandments loftily high,
In the end, it doesn’t matter, if we are twinkling flowers,
Or the fragrance of stars, as long as You are ours.

- GUPTA GHOST

The Religion Of Humanity

2007-03-01T02:02:00.000+05:30

Like all men, so busy was I in the belief, religiously involved,
That money was the pivot around which the world revolved,
At the blossoming of Peace and Love, my beliefs were marred,
To the ultimate Truth, I was rudely awakened, totally jarred.

Hindus or Muslims, Buddhists or Jains, Catholics or Protestants,
None seemed to me, to be the spiritually potential determinant,
For, when God created us, it wasn't to involve in religious fight for might,
But, to walk hand in hand along the path that is universally right.

We were to be stars in His sky, shining eternally bright,
To serve dejected spiritual travellers as a guiding Light,
The fraternity of religion and humanity, was to be continuously in sight,
To show that a bright, sunny day lies ahead of every dark night.

Finally, I was exhausted, unreasonable and absolutely desperate,
Thereby leading to ruin, and callousness, a woe begone state,
Then appeared an angelic personification, so incredibly compassionate,
Revealing to me, my friend, guide and mentor, the Lord Incarnate.

- GUPTA GHOST

Reaching Him

2007-03-01T02:01:00.002+05:30

A weary traveller along a path forlorn,
Regularly and incessantly stumbling over incessant stones,
Mirages of enjoyment and riches shake him to the very bone,
He trudges on, unshaken but totally ragged and worn.

His greed and desires were apart and asunder torn,
Pain and pleasure with a serene and commensurate equality borne,
Offering duly to Him every duty, desire and deed,
Ridding the bedraggled path, of illusionary scrub and weed.

With a vibrant face radiant, jubilant and glowing,
The lone desire to 'REACH HIM' constantly growing,
Remembering to keep pace with the colossal spiritual tide,
Or be swept away into the world rapidly far and wide.

Enough of science, of commerce and of art,
All that you need, is but an open heart,
While 'REACHING HIM' never ever give up,
For, always in sight is the gleaming heavenly cup.

- GUPTA GHOST

Peak Of Joy

2007-03-01T02:01:00.001+05:30

In the beginning it had been a tiring endless quest,
For, joy had eluded me more often than the rest,
Nothing, and no place could quench my joy-barren thirst,
With a longing for happiness, my every heartbeat burst.

Joy seemed to me, in the midst of the sea, an island,
My forces of joy, in the battle against sorrow, was forced to disband,
Finally joy to man, became a castle-in-the-air wonder,
Followed by the rumble of sorrow's distraught thunder.

The joyous era is preceded by the dark night of gloominess,
Like a spirited kingfisher, looking for its daily meal,
Leaving us mercilessly, to the winds of anger, an ageless pest,
I didn’t know, that looking in my heart joy would reveal.

Where the sun meets the clouds and the sky meets the sea,
Much nearer than it, is the joy in our hearts we see,
A smiling face rows me through the rapids of life’s saddest ploy,
For, contentment is the foundation of my sturdy peak of joy.

- GUPTA GHOST

Our Goal

2007-03-01T02:00:00.001+05:30

Ever since man evolved shelterless to the raging weather,
He has been ignorantly and blindly stumbling from one birth to another,
Hidden in the deepest recess of his heart, is an unsolved mystery,
That has been inundated by religion into the vast history.

For this elixir of knowledge, there seems to be a timeless quest,
Generations behind none ever being able to amply conquest,
Birth and death are to us merely temporary guests,
With illusion and fate playing their part to the best.

The dire necessity of the ambrosia of wisdom forget we lest,
For, our karma has positioned us on a cliff's edge nest,
Leaving us mercilessly, to the winds of anger, an ageless pest,
So that our destiny can determine the result of the acid test.

If we don't perform our task with the necessary élan and aplomb,
Never forget, that closeby us is ceaselessly ticking, the rebirth bomb,
God wishes to teach each of us with another day of sunlight,
That 'OUR GOAL' is to never see another day or night.

- GUPTA GHOST

Lord Of The Universe

2007-03-01T01:58:00.000+05:30

The mighty river bowed down in cascades of flowing water,
The sight of mountains and their nearness to God does flatter,
There's more harmony in the tunes of the wind, than you can find,
The Lord is directing this orchestra from the seat of your mind.

The chirping of birds, like an unplanned musical concert,
Their reverence to this Universal Master they assert,
The mirages and sand dunes in a life-ridden desert,
Views of the versatility of creation it does not pervert.

His Love is shown in the spiritual blossoming of a heart,
The shades of a peacock, displays His creative art,
He reflects on us life and light, with the sun's rays,
To this Lord of the Universe every devotee prays.

He listens and solves, galaxies of stellar troubles,
With every single moment in His company, your joy doubles,
God has helped to turn around the sandglass of time,
To humbly offer at His Lotus Feet this little rhyme.

- GUPTA GHOST

Long Lost Days

2007-03-01T01:57:00.000+05:30

Gone are those sublime timeless days,
When we basked under the mellow sun's rays,
Illusion has played its wily role aloud,
Landing us all under an unpredictable cloud.

Those days with their enigmatically beautiful smile,
When HE invariably spent with us quite a long while,
Now all that is left is the ominous cloud's thunder,
For an unknown, unseen, an unnoticed blunder.

What the inimitable sages earned by silence and penance,
We have whiled away in constant prattle and nonchalance,
We pass our remorseful days in bemoaned repentance,
But Alas! Only after destiny decreed its inevitable sentence.

At turbulent times when the heavenly stars shined down,
To many we look like obnoxious strangers in town,
Despite ourselves and our yearning in all perceptible ways,
Our scorched hearts still long for those LONG LOST DAYS.

- GUPTA GHOST

Let His Will Prevail

2007-03-01T01:56:00.000+05:30

All that I asked for, was a bit of encouragement,
And all that the world gave was, pure discouragement,
That I may realize God, I asked fervently for wisdom,
But was instead shown the world, God's own kingdom.

To conquer the world, I asked for boundless might,
My thoughts were effortlessly subdued, by the world's plight,
To express my limitless thoughts, I asked for feelings,
I was given a complex life to understand its meaning.

To merge in Him, I asked guidance from the Divine Light,
But was instead directed towards the darkest night,
All that I yearned for, He did effortlessly refuse,
So that He could fill me, with His Love so profuse.

I asked for devotion, so that I could realize Him,
I was bluntly told, that my chances were grim,
I asked God, for all that was needed by me,
I was instead conferred with all that was deserved by me.

- GUPTA GHOST

Inspired by the poem "A Creed For Those Who Have Suffered?" Author Unknown

In The Depth Of Silence

2007-03-01T01:54:00.002+05:30

The vivid richness of human life in its luxury and ambience,
Is in virtuality poverty, without attaining the depth of silence,
Today's world of fighting and ceaseless factional violence,
Can be transformed into Love, only in the depth of silence.

In the depth of silence can be enjoyed, the melody of a bird's chirping,
In the depth of silence can be enjoyed, the wind among palm leaves swishing,
The depth of silence can enthrall, with the simplest fisherman's song,
The depth of silence can envisage a peace that lasts really long.

The numerous faiths and religions in multiplicity,
In the depth of silence reveals it's derivative simplicity,
In our deepest recess, when silence gives the clearance,
We can have access to the Divine gift of clairvoyance.

For petty sins, man makes unto himself a non-committal allowance,
But he cannot do so for the Love, present in the depths of silence,
The voice of God, in the subdued form of resilience,
Is heard from the heart, only IN THE DEPTHS OF SILENCE.

- GUPTA GHOST

Happy Days

2007-03-01T01:54:00.001+05:30

Happy days have at long last visibly come,
Enchantments they do bring, but only quite some,
Break not into a jolly, springtide song,
For 'HAPPY DAYS' , last never so infinitely long.

Life has a wonderful cache of abundant pleasure,
But it does give back, pain in a bountiful measure,
Happiness is, but the crest of a receding wave,
Chaining mankind in it's miry whirlpool so grave.

Happiness is, but a spoke in life's gigantic wheel,
Leaving behind imprints of memories, on destiny's reel,
Happy days are, but a reflection of bygone memory lanes,
Sadness ingrained in all it's glassy panes.

Happiness is a vision through an illusionary crystal ball,
Gazing through which we see the looming deathly pall,
Happy days are as fickle as a soap bubble,
Merging back into sadness, it's eternal rubble.

- GUPTA GHOST

Facets Of Life

2007-03-01T01:53:00.001+05:30

Uncertainties of life are, but a wee bit askance,
Man has been delighted to a rational stance,
Portraits of a desert filled life blurred at a glance,
Lilting against destiny, man took a beholden chance.

Bound by thoughts, desire and many a social edict,
The bylanes of a fallen path in life seemed to contradict,
Past actions had presupposed a prevalent verdict,
The consequences of bestial abandon he failed to predict.

Man displayed a temperament of independent countenance,
Although, in breath and bread God was his sustenance,
The reborn mirth of this paranoid world he deplored,
The ecstatic factor of redemption was explored.

A redundant man has realized lately and very sadly,
Of God that 'You are my everything I need You badly',
Friendship and Love resulted in a repentant prayer,
These two Facets of Life lead to Heaven's magnificent foyer.

- GUPTA GHOST

Everlasting Love

2007-03-01T01:51:00.000+05:30

Like a river steadily meandering it's way,
Just as devotees with rising faith pray night and day,
To the vast, expansive ocean will be its final journey,
Devotion and steadfastness being the indispensable key.

At varying degrees it is the devotees turn for testing,
Stuck in the web of attachment, unconsciously resting,
Mankind was but a reflection in the mirror of hate,
Like puppets controlled by threads of predestined fate.

To the steady unhindered hearts it came rushing,
Abundance of Everlasting Love came forth gushing,
Piled high up was a heap of past acquired rubble,
Flowing came Love smoothening destiny into a pebble.

When each consciously considered the other a rival,
On that besmeared scene Love made it's timely arrival,
As God said in life, from above there's a ship,
The expression of EVERLASTING LOVE is FRIENDSHIP.

- GUPTA GHOST

Destiny's Child

2007-03-01T01:50:00.000+05:30

It was a world unfriendly and hostile,
Filled with hatred and anger so vile,
All that I asked for, was encouragement and chance,
But was denied even sweet words or a loving glance.

Chaos and pandemonium were raging uncontrollably wild,
Wishing was I for inner peace so supremely mild,
I had long forgotten that I was born to be Destiny's Child,
Unfortunately, by attachment and illusion easily guiled.

From deep within suddenly a familiar chime rang,
My consciousness from its fatal slumber awoke and sprang,
For unseen help, I desperately sought, but none could bring,
Finally to the refuge of all troubles, my prayers did spring.

Then God answered, and held me by my hand,
And led me safely through, to His pristine land,
Leaving behind footprints on the sands of time,
That others may follow to reach the goal sublime.

- GUPTA GHOST

You And Me

2007-03-01T01:47:00.000+05:30

In whichever distant land, you let your feet fall,
Dearest, just look at the sky and give me a call,
Your voice floats like the breeze of spring over brook and dale,
And merges just as seamlessly into the air I inhale.

By the brilliance of the sun, you become distant too soon,
I await the night, to see your face in the moon,
The fragrance of flowers amidst the rustle of leaves,
Subdues the silent tempest in which my heart grieves.

People say that yours is a journey of no return,
Notwithstanding, my heart from your direction will never turn,
A lamp of light burns the oil that feeds it, to flame,
Just as I await your verdict, the result of this endless game.

Across the woods, into the horizon afar I gaze,
Tears rolling down, as the sky turns a purple haze,
I close my eyes longing for the morning anew,
A morning that will rejoin me and you.

- GUPTA GHOST

Song Of The Sky

2007-03-01T01:46:00.000+05:30

O dearest love, wherever you are, just let me hear your voice,
The music in your words gladden me more than I can rejoice,
I live before you, behind you in this despairing conundrum,
My only companion, your song, that I tirelessly hum.

Though you aren’t, your ever-smiling face is here,
It keeps following me to eternity like my shadow near,
Looking into your mesmerizing face makes me forget,
All the sorrow, that everyday lives seem to beget.

The day prolongs not for the star-studded night,
The night lives on in the shadow of the morning light,
The solemn glow in your eyes, sends my watery heart into ripples,
As night by day, day by night, my yearning never stifles.

Go wherever you wish, my celestial song shall follow,
It shall echo and reverberate in your heart’s hollow,
But never bother to ask yourself the question why,
Because mine is the eternal song of the sky.

- GUPTA GHOST

Searching For You

2007-03-01T01:45:00.000+05:30

Like a forgotten native traversing the desert,
I carry on with no choice, though my feet hurt,
Try as much as I can, my thoughts to divert,
From inevitably returning to you, I cannot avert.

I walk on though I know not, how long the night,
Just hoping I’ll reach the end before it’s daylight,
A look above shows, the future is not bright,
Thinking of you, I just hope my direction is right.

For, however long I walk, you’re still out of sight,
As the winds blow, I clasp my last bit of faith tight,
Day by fiercer day, I live by the wind of the night,
A wind that soothes my worries, making me light.

Where can I find you, the solace of my heart’s desire,
For no wind of any might can put out this fire,
Wherever I go, I hear only talk of your fame,
But am so exhausted, I can no longer call out your name.

The day passes soon, giving way to a drenching rain,
I look out for you, only to see the pelting rain again,
People around me quickly run for the nearest cover,
I stand there alone, waiting for you, facing its power.

The rain endlessly pours down, as I stand under,
Facing its quenching water and burning thunder,
Asking myself just where did I blunder,
To be separated from you, my wonder.

I realize it is morning, by seeing the mist descending,
But my relentless footsteps keep the dust ascending,
And I stand confused, whether it’s the mist or dust I’m depending,
For mine is a task that seems to have no ending.

I suddenly feel I have turned over a new page,
For with a strong urge to turn back, I reach this stage,
My mind blames it all on the effect of my age,
But try as I might, I am still a prisoner in your cage.

I continue looking for you, soaring like a kite in the sky,
Not sure, whether you own me, or I own you, the sky,
When a gust of wind, snaps apart my confidence thread,
I continue unsupported, not knowing the direction I head.

The waves part, as I look for you in the deep sea,
But however deep I look, there is only water I see,
The clouds part, as I look for you in the new moon,
But I see no evidence to tell me you are due soon.

Patiently I wait, looking for you in the mid-noon,
But the brightness of the sun, only sends me into a swoon,
Hastily I decide to settle down on my own,
But repentantly wait to see you in the seeds I have sown.

At their own pace, the plants have gradually grown,
To my futile effort, no trace of you they have ever shown,
I try to take my mind off it, by watching their buds bloom,
But I see only your face, that brings back my gloom.

I curse myself for trying to needlessly believe,
That forever my side, you will never leave,
All my charm has waned itself into a frown,
But there is no depth at which I can drown.

To see me in this state, though you aren’t there,
To console me for my life, your captivating smile is here,
Seeing it on your embossed face, I burst into ecstasy,
As though awaiting for long, an unfulfilled prophecy.

I have lost count of those endless nights and days,
That I battled with myself in innumerable days,
Convincing and cajoling myself to start again, anew,
For, till my last breath, I shall be searching for you.

- GUPTA GHOST

<--Dedicated to Aparna Reddy, whose innocent face and endearing smile made this possible, may she have that smile forever, lighting up many more lives with one of the joys of creation-->

My Second Life

2007-03-01T01:44:00.000+05:30

Your eyes look bejeweled like a Greek,
I would die for their attention to seek,
Though you may look soft-hearted and meek,
Underneath lies a character as hard as teak.

One look at those rare, poignant tears,
And waves will be lashing backwards at themselves,
Just one time if your silken voice one hears,
It’s enough to push all the voice-records off the shelves.

You possess a face, so wordlessly exquisite,
That beings from the Heaven are dying to visit,
Tapering down like the Andes mountain is your nose,
Comparing myself with you, is like the thorn with the rose.

As near to you, I can only see your matchless face,
But far from you, I can let my dreams run riot like a knife,
Like an iceberg, I fear I will one day melt at your gaze,
For, your face, it needs no telling, is my second life.

- GUPTA GHOST

Morning Light

2007-03-01T01:42:00.000+05:30

Mighty oaks come alive at dawn, their reflection in water glistening,
Fresh dewdrops in the rising sun’s rays, stare out at you glowing,
As I rise up each morning, the chattering birds eagerly listening,
I am spellbound by the beauty of morning light that is mind-blowing.

I await you like the morning daisy flower, wilting by the hour,
Even as the wind erodes the sand, upon which I steadily stand,
I reach out for you, like the evaporating morning dew,
The charisma in your face, shall remain the enigma in my brace.

I can never love another person anew,
Until I hear your voice, that’s well nigh overdue,
Your absence for a moment, has dried me like the desert,
Yet I tarry on, till my position you gently assert.

With dissenting minds and commenting mouths I fight,
With the only fear that I may in diversion forget,
How beautiful, how wonderful, you day by day get,
Like the first ray that strikes earth, from the morning light.

- GUPTA GHOST

Killing Me Softly

2007-03-01T01:41:00.000+05:30

Long before this feeling, long before this emotion,
When the magic was yet to be set in motion,
The first glance at you wasn’t love or devotion,
A distant gaze, far away like the endless ocean.

One of utter, nonchalance was my first look,
Unbending, and unminding in your direction to look,
Your existence seemed as forgotten as air,
With no concern of how amiably you fare.

Looking around, scouring for more worthy prospects,
Everywhere I looked, there seemed greater defects,
That my eyes were tricking me, I was convinced,
However my mind all the while never winced.

When it happened, it all seemed a mishap,
As I stumbled upon my own lowly trap,
Confused at the direction the wheel turns,
Leaving behind marks, and a few deep burns.

Hovering around, my eyes rested back on you,
Surprisingly they seemed rewashed and new,
Walking past the other faces like morning dew,
I finally reach your sight, long overdue.

I keep trying in my own small humble way,
To make you smile more, each new day,
Spreading your joy in waves across the room,
It seems the world knows neither doom or gloom.

To see the aura, and the glint in your eyes,
I committed deeds the world wouldn’t deem wise,
To make you joyous, there was no better way,
Even if in the process, I had to greatly pay.

The medals lost, the prizes sacrificed, seem nothing,
Compared to the smile on your face they bring,
My swelling pride upon seeing you thereby win,
Says, for your sake, failure is no sin.

I realize, I have all the while been swirling within,
Feelings begin to arise and subside, out and in,
Much akin to teaching a fish to rightly swim,
I linger around, trying to satisfy your arising whim.

Emblazing my every moment of life, thought and mind,
You play across every second, with no chance of rewind,
I project myself, my abilities and sheer dint,
Yet as I walk, I leave behind only your footprint.

Try as much as I can, I can no longer deny it,
The image of being forlorn, somehow doesn’t fit,
With the fragrance of romance, I’ve surely been hit,
Groping on all sides, for an outlet to this embracing pit.

I wish I could be convinced that this wasn’t true,
That love had no hue, and the sky wasn’t blue,
The truth strikes me as being bitterly pleasant,
The idyllic life, of love and the hillside peasant.

A life of great expectations, without any care,
Where every man, soars where no angels dare,
Where reality and fiction never seem laid bare,
And acceptance and rejection are too big to bear.

I wish I hadn’t got in at the first place,
Unable to bear its twists, and the searing pace,
To swim the tide costs all my reputation and face,
To walk out pulls my heart strings, setting them ablaze.

Cursing the cupid doesn’t bring back the times,
When your heart was measured in penny and dimes,
The lure of the happiness that drew me inside,
Seems to be dissipating too much far and wide.

No longer untouched by love’s staple wear and tear,
There were always times when you just didn’t care,
Looking into your eyes, beyond that glassy stare,
I find not, the least glimmer of the bond we share.

To see you each day look to me with growing hatred,
No trace of compassion, or tears ever shed,
The only emotion I found, was one of a loathing pity,
For, to you, I was just somebody, a non-entity.

A somebody, who in you daily life interfered,
A somebody you wished, long ago had disappeared,
Though no trace of this in your eyes have you shown,
That it exists, from you demeanor I have known.

Despite the hatred, despite the endless pain,
I was a somebody, who could never abstain,
To work untiringly, if just to see you gain,
Regardless of the recurring pain, again and again.

To hang around when you seemed very desolate,
Trying all I could, yet never being so desperate,
The waters of failure, washing down the feet of fate,
I just tarry to ponder, on how I reached this state.

Up against the crest, I try to stem the tide,
However, I have destiny, my master to abide,
Caught up in its fury, is my tattered fishing net,
No amount of repair, can it safely to the shore get.

Remember that in this candle, we are the flame and wick,
Burning each other, through every thin and thick,
Discard me, disown me, it will bring no change,
Without the wick, your flame will always seem strange.

All the while, I have never tried to approach you,
For the sole reason of letting you, be only you,
For the fear of seeing on your angelic face, a frown,
So, always maintain that smile, through life’s up and down.

I only hope this experience will allow me to be,
Since in my direction you shall never see,
Curse me, hurt me, abandon me to your visionary hell,
I shall still follow you, always you guardian angel.

You have never talked to me and mostly never will,
But never forget that I shall love you still,
Throughout your life and mine, I shall love you gently,
Even though, every second, you are KILLING ME SOFTLY.

- GUPTA GHOST

In Your Eyes

2007-03-01T01:40:00.000+05:30

At first sight, they looked like an eclipse over a bright sun,
In an unchallenged manner, the championship of my heart they won,
They subside like a heap of rubble when you are sad,
And bloat up like a new bubble when you are glad.

They are down and glum when you unusually fret,
And attain an expression I cannot in Heaven interpret,
When you stare at me, the Earth feels light, like standing on a petal,
When you blink, the sky feels heavy, pressing onto my head like a pedal.

They question me in a morose manner when you brood,
And assume expressions as broad as your minute mood,
Looking into them, I can easily see when you are good,
As they look like the fragrance of freshly cut sandalwood.

I can surely tell, when you are, or not in a dream,
As your thoughts flow through them like a stream,
They show your emotions, in a range from steam to ice,
I can see whole new world opening in your eyes.

- GUPTA GHOST

Eternally Mine

2007-03-01T01:38:00.000+05:30

It has been a long time since the fires have died down,
But their warmth hasn’t still let me down,
Shivering in this cold, I still remember seeing you the last time,
The day when my heart inexplicably missed its rhyme.

Yet you glide into my dreams, and wake me in the night,
I look around and see you and I don’t in the dim moonlight,
It is soon morning, and I look at more than one shadow,
And I know, with me forever you shall follow.

I refresh myself and look into the mirror,
Seeing your face, I know there is no error,
I look up and find the blue sky parting,
And your twinkling face, an unanswered question asking.

I look down, onto the plate on which I dine,
And find you staring, like a moon that has no decline,
I smile to myself as I realize this is no miracle Divine,
Since you were pledged to be eternally mine.

- GUPTA GHOST

Tomorrow's Yesterday

2007-03-01T01:35:00.000+05:30

I look up at the rain drops that hit my eyes,
Just like the teardrops that roll down my eyes,
I instantly close them as the ensuing sunlight strikes me,
And I realize I no longer find myself in me.

Images and events of life are jostling for my mind’s space,
As with this itinerant flow of thoughts I try to keep pace,
At once I am a child, eagerly wanting to be a scientist,
Long since then, I have grown to nothing more than a pessimist.

As a teenager, I longed to be a computer whiz kid,
Alas, I have since then lost count of things I did,
As a graduate, I dreamt to manage a business empire,
But I still languish in drudgery and unfulfilled desire.

All my tomorrow has become a long forgotten yesterday,
And I still await to become someone, someday,
I realize that life takes away more than it gives,
That itself is a measure of how long each one lives.

- GUPTA GHOST

Teardrop

2007-03-01T01:34:00.000+05:30

To feel the teardrop pulling at your eye,
To trickle down your cheek it knows not why,
Yet hanging on brow’s edge, it seems to die,
For the fear of making you seem to needlessly cry.

Once on its course across the valleys of your face,
It sprints against itself, in an unintended race,
Obstructions on the way it will scarcely face,
Yet scared of drying up, if slackening in pace.

Starting humbly, the journey as a self-propelled drop,
It runs along, exhausting itself to a stop,
Consuming itself to create a narrow new way,
A way along which its successors would gladly play.

You are compelled by stimulus to brush it aside,
And it finally leaves, having enjoyed the ride,
To the observer, it makes no pretence to be coy,
For, the teardrop in itself, signifies neither sorrow nor joy.

- GUPTA GHOST

School Days

2007-03-01T01:33:00.000+05:30

In life, during rainy moments of gloomy recollection,
School Days stand out, surmounted high in joy and emotion,
Of boundless fun and frolic, they present an unfurled reflection,
Happiness outbids all else in these days, in obvious selection.

These days of humour, sportsmanship and sound advice,
In troubled times of life, these memories help to break the ice,
In life it matters, if these memories in our minds we record,
It brings about unity, when our life runs amok in discord.

Between juniors and seniors, students and teachers, existed a special bond,
In difficulties and despair, this special bond did effectively respond,
Of petty troubles and little fights, these days helped us to get rid,
School Days disciplined us into citizens of a country's future grid.

Sorrows and setbacks, the course of streamlined lives do alter,
But not for us, since School Days are our Rocks of Gibraltar,
These memories and moments enrich you, when life turns grey,
For, School Days, like sun's rays, on your reflective mind plays.

- GUPTA GHOST

Orchid Garden

2007-03-01T01:32:00.001+05:30

I haven’t seen a thing, as meaningful as an orchid garden,
With its beautiful blooms, there is no mind it will harden,
An orchid in its full bloom, is a sight to be beholden,
No matter what praise be given, to the hands by which it was moulden.

As far as your mind can judge, it fully covers,
All your thoughts, with its multiple colours,
You will never again see a world so diverse,
That so resembles the difference in the Universe.

Yesterday’s buds soon blossom forth into flowers,
The mesmerizing flowers turn themselves into fruits,
Today’s fruits turn into tomorrow’s seeds and roots,
Laying the foundation for the future’s flowers.

So much philosophy in so little may seem strange,
But from afar, however long , you will never see them change,
It may soon push you headlong down the precipice,
If you agree that all things of beauty come at a price.

- GUPTA GHOST

In The Name Of God

2007-03-01T01:31:00.000+05:30

To many people, life seems great, in the ‘Paradise on Earth’,
Of nature, beauty and transcendence, there is no dearth,
Only shortage of Peace, Love and Happiness,
As we live each day in fear of unexpected loneliness.

Our children wake up, not to the song of the cuckoo, but gunfire,
They make their way to school, the path paved with blood and barbed wire,
They grew up, not by reading about squares, triangles and spheres,
But by attending daily, the funeral of ones near and dear.

We live on, not for survival, an unreliable, long-forgotten word,
But for mending each others spirits towards a promising new world,
The scars have remained, like the echo of gunshots in the valley,
Behind closed doors, as each day we pray, for a lesser death tally.

As each year passes between snowfall and sunrise,
People don’t change and none the better for the wise,
Even God who knows no hate, would surely despise,
People, who in the name of God, innocents terrorize.

- GUPTA GHOST

This poem was inspired by the video of a song in
the first Indian movie to be listed in the UK Top Ten.

Friendship

2007-03-01T01:30:00.001+05:30

In the making of their world, it played an important part,
It was the greatest among, and easiest among all arts,
At the highest of prices, it was still unavailable in any mart,
For, in all its simplicity it consisted of the bonding of their hearts.

It primarily enlivened the cause of their creation,
It created an understanding among their relation,
It helped to express their every thought, every sensation,
It enriched and embellished the purpose and need for association.

It formed an association of understanding, a reputable company,
In sadness and happiness, in life and death it will always accompany,
Misunderstandings were scarce and differences hardly some,
It depicted the blossoming of unity, in a picture wholesome.

Each existed for the other, a matchless golden era,
The bond grew by leaps and bounds, challenging the power of Ra,
Open wide apart, were the golden gates of heaven,
In assent to the association of these fellow brethren.

It was at a time when all seemed fine,
And the association was set to blossom and shine,
It was then, that the potion of acidic destiny began to brew,
Each passing day witnessed conflicts, which only grew.

The understanding of thoughts of many days turned to difference,
Love and reconciliation were treated with equal diffidence,
Thrown to the mercy of the winds was to be the relation,
The group seemed to await its forced sordid cremation.

Then it happened, unmindful of which direction the wind seemed to blow,
The mighty river into streams in directions different began to flow,
One single moment had the infinite power to totally devastate,
Goals that took days and months of understanding to cultivate.

The weak minded had sold the secrets for not a mere pound,
Wiping away memories and moments with feelings abound,
Drowned in their selfishness and non-self-motivated attitude,
To their association in faith, lacked in even gratitude.

- GUPTA GHOST

Discipline

2007-03-01T01:28:00.000+05:30

Glass since centuries has symbolized items fragile,
Its crystalline shine makes it visible a mile,
Its place in civilization wouldn’t have got,
Had it not been moulded and blown red-hot.

If there is one word that rules the world,
Atleast for mankind it undoubtedly is gold,
For most of us gold wouldn’t have really mattered,
Had it not been melted and finely hammered.

The one substance that reflects maximum light,
Is a diamond that sparkles scintillatingly white,
This diamond wouldn’t have cost as much as a nut,
Had it not been repeatedly polished and cut.

Away from laziness and disorder, a student must live,
So that to many in future, sustenance he can give,
To teach him definitely that hurry makes you worry,
Discipline in a student’s life is very necessary.

- GUPTA GHOST

Dearest Mom

2007-03-01T01:27:00.000+05:30

My experience with you is like a rain of moonlight,
Soaking my memory in an enchanting grip so tight,
Like the blanket you covered me with, while I slept at night,
Sleeping by my side, guarding me till the break of daylight.

Guiding me in life, helping me make the choices right,
Yet stepping aside, when I am under the spotlight,
You have struggled day and night, with all your might,
To fulfill my every wish, the challenges despite.

This body of mine, is a gift from you,
The wealth I have, is all because of you,
While I carelessly laughed and played,
You were busy, you cried and prayed.

I always tremble in my heart, standing before you,
Trying to explain, the difference made by you,
You listen and return, with your special from the stove,
I smile and think that all I can give back to you is love.

With your care and concern I have been nourished,
With your blessings and advice I have flourished,
The one thing that strikes me, when I think of you mother,
Is that God couldn’t be everywhere, so He made Mothers.

- GUPTA GHOST

Dearest Dad

2007-03-01T01:26:00.000+05:30

I have known ever since I first opened my eyes,
One man, who would always be the most wise,
Whose bubbly effervescence never ceases to surprise,
Like the unfailing clockwork of the tireless daily sunrise.

One man, whose hairline although constantly receding,
Shall never lose the born appetite for always succeeding,
To make all of us happy, is your every effort dedicated,
Only upon its fulfillment, is your anxiety vindicated.

You taught us that worrying doesn’t improve the situation,
And only a step forward will take you to the destination,
You showed us that a mountain is too small an aspiration,
And for that matter you shall always be an inspiration.

The more we grow, the greater is the world’s expectation,
So for each little deed, you showed the greatest appreciation,
Over the years, I may be able to surpass you in height,
But I can never ever become as large as your heart.

God made Fathers’ to lead us all with a guiding hand,
And put us on their feet across the burning sand,
And fulfill our unreasonable wishes with their smiling wand,
For, without fathers’ we would all be in no man’s land.

Dearest DAD, I may not get another chance tomorrow,
And today I don’t have anyone else’s words to borrow,
I have always been trying everyday to somehow tell you,
That no matter what, I shall always continue to LOVE You.

- GUPTA GHOST

Damn Those Marks

2007-03-01T01:25:00.000+05:30

Like a veritable demi-God walking the earth,
And accomplishing the objective of his mortal birth,
High marks bring such awe-inspiring treatment to a person,
Since every parent is madly proud of such a son.

Without them, a person is looked down upon like a sinner,
None looks into their eyes, to see within a future winner,
Just give them another chance to try and warm,
And they’ll soon take the whole world by storm.

One wants to be a doctor, another an engineer, a scientist,
But their poor marks lead them to being out of the roll list,
There are bouquets and parties for the damned topper,
And brickbats for the failure, looked on at as a pauper.

They didn’t have marks, those people considered greatest,
It shows that you don’t only need marks to be the best,
“Get more marks ” is all that the blind world barks,
But I shall forever continue to say “Damn those marks”.

- GUPTA GHOST

Call Of The Valley

2007-03-01T01:23:00.000+05:30

In life the only wish we had, was for the pleasures of peace,
Our hearts don’t agree to violent deeds, that break life into many a piece,
For all their dastardly propaganda, innocent people are the ones who suffer,
For our little children, don’t we have a better world to offer?

Of what use is togetherness, if it cannot abate,
The feeling that runs among hearts like ours, hate,
Remind them of love, that so very like a sand dune,
Spreads in every direction that the winds play a tune.

In You is our faith, our refuge, as we count our hours,
In this world of Yours, there is nothing to claim as ours,
Where else can the prayers of our little children go,
Placing their heart in Your hands, everyday to school they go.

Whether things change for the better or not, we will never depart,
As long as we can see You, hidden though in our heart,
We have come together, across religions, for our life’s rally,
Please O Lord, answer the call of the valley.

- GUPTA GHOST

Another Day Another Time

2007-03-01T01:21:00.000+05:30

We were put in, when we barely knew our names,
Or the difference between us and those dames,
When a smacking from a Maam, was all that we feared,
Yet among each other, we fought and again endeared.

When Sunday life meant, Rasna and Ravalgon chocolates,
And when we kicked and mauled our own benchmates,
And yet, the next day it would seem nothing had happened,
In between moments which in our minds are forever penned.

Anxious to leave school, at seniors across the wall we would stare,
Only to get there, and yearn again for the lost love and care,
After the dormitory, arrived the suspense of who was your roommate,
And the finding, that after all, things in this world had a rate.

Though the freedom was new, so were the restrictions,
The independence were new, but so were the conditions,
Despite growing up, one thing was definitely strange,
How despite a decade, some things can never change.

The same, sleeping in mandir, and flicking of sweets,
The same, bullying by seniors, and enthusiasm for sports,
Whether it was ‘Short Witch’ or ‘John’, the same nicknames,
And the never-ending, old boy – new boy superiority games.

Nobody can bring together, another group people so diverse,
And bond them together into an inseparable universe,
For all the temptations, of this world, and the next one sublime,
I wouldn’t choose to be born, on another day, in another time.

- GUPTA GHOST

A Lost World

2007-03-01T01:16:00.000+05:30

In comparison with this lot, Narcissus in beauty did drain,
The mystique, of which no scientific gibberish could explain,
Each passing day brought out the essence of fantasy,
Blossoming like a boulevard, in the garden of ecstasy.

In myriad minds, a history was penned with each fleeting moment,
Like destined birds in the sky, enlightenment a trifle nascent,
In marvelous hues and sketches were painted their colorful lives,
Outlasting the sadness ravine, the comradeship strives.

When all seemed bright and friend SHIP was set to cruise,
A bolt from the blue, struck a major bruise,
Ahead lay an obstacle, a tall obstinate factor,
Wiping away camaraderie, a Divine benefactor.

Conspiring Fate served up a dish of eternal doom,
There was silence, heralding a melancholy gloom,
Alas! A wonderful world had been finally lost,
Happiness and Peace had unfortunately breathed its last.

- GUPTA GHOST

Walk In The Rain

2007-03-01T00:41:00.001+05:30

As I step out of my shell, life a shamble of failure,

I look around, what the future holds, not sure,
A distant rumble makes me in my steps stop,
As I am hit from above with the first raindrop.

Within a short time, the drizzle turns into a rain,
And I feel myself reborn and whole once again,
I stand there getting drenched, these drops can’t stain,
In this jubilation, from dancing with joy, I cannot refrain.

I am ambling in the twilight of that morn,
On which my pride and honor was fatefully shorn,
Struggling, stumbling I crossed the border of disdain,
As the rain washes away my tears, and years of pain.

As I walk in the rain, on this monsoon evening,
I am suddenly aware of an innate awakening,
I realize that a man is just clay in the moulding,
His effort can make him a vagabond or king.

- GUPTA GHOST

The Flame Within

2007-03-01T00:39:00.000+05:30

It is sometimes focused and loud like a hammer,

And yet suddenly, is soft like a whispered stammer,
A voice so unique, its meaning only to me discernible,
A message so realistic, its impact indismissable.

It fires me into a limelight that nothing can shroud,
Yet it remains hidden, like receding sunlight behind a cloud,
Beyond my undreamt expectations it propels,
Yet to act within my limitations it compels.

Whenever I find myself untowardly bickering,
I look inside to find it visibly flickering,
Whether it controls or only guides what I know,
Is not revealed by its steady, uninterrupted glow.

It knows no tomorrow, and lives not in yesterday,
It is only concerned with making me give the best of the day,
In life whatever situation I find myself in,
I will never forget to ask the flame within.

- GUPTA GHOST

Reason For Rainbows

2007-03-01T00:38:00.000+05:30

Droplets of dew on tender petals every morning,

Beams of sunlight between awaiting leaves peeping,
A solitary bloom in a forlorn, unabided desert,
The breath of fulfillment after a tiring effort.

A sudden cool drizzle on a hot, humid day,
A blaze of light that blows away the misty grey,
The sorrows of the day, swept away by the canary’s song,
The exuberance of counting waves for interminably long.

The long dark night passes away into temporal oblivion,
The light of the sun just penetrating the cloud’s dominion,
And the stage is set for the greatest of all show,
As the sky is arched with the colours of the rainbow.

As we watch the resplendence of the seven colours,
A thought flashing across my mind clearly hollers,
That the reason for rainbows, like every new child born,
Is that God still has hope in mankind for another morn.

- GUPTA GHOST

Once In A Blue Sun

2007-03-01T00:37:00.000+05:30

The rising shadow of tomorrow, looks down on the shadow of today,
As for today, I know not the difference I made in any way,
Much more than the short yesterday, I decide to accomplish,
But between achievement & aspiration, am unable to distinguish.

I have been trying all of today, just like yesterday,
Before finally deciding, that failure is here to stay,
Every new venture, only got me more sadder,
As I failed to grasp, the winding success ladder.

My innate sense decided it was the last time I fell,
The sudden shame of failure pushed me from hell,
The first taste of success has an incredible story to tell,
Of how things got started and going so well.

But once in a blue sun, comes dear opportunity,
Ignoring it is the bull’s eye way to failure,
As unable as one is to predict the outcome of activity,
For, in life, however safe, you are never sure.

- GUPTA GHOST

Life

2007-03-01T00:34:00.000+05:30

Colourful flowers are seen in bloom, hither and thither,
However, at the end of the day, most of them droop and wither,
A person who is fit and healthy at the break of dawn,
May no longer be alive, to see the sun next morn.

The miracle of life leaves no unturned stones,
For, without it, the body is but a bag of bones,
The value of life is known, not by the man who commits suicide,
But the hardest rock, in which inexpressible feelings reside.

Death, riches or fame are no measure for life,
For, no amount of money, no advance in science, or the surgeon’s knife,
Can bring back to life, a body by cold death crumpled,
Or pour a new life into a Frankenstein assembled.

The only measure of each one’s life is our breath,
For, the final destination of all things living is death,
The earth was obscure and a speck in a galaxy of strife,
Until the moment it was blessed with the gift of life.

- GUPTA GHOST

If I Could Tell You

2007-03-01T00:32:00.000+05:30

If I could tell you, when time deems right someday,

That, be not deceived by the glint of the early morning ray,
Sometimes matters are so complicated, that it’s too early to say,
Whether or not you are moving along the right way.

Just as the waves of the ocean ceaselessly try to reach,
And swallow up further miles along the beach,
It is very rare similarly, to find someone to teach,
That all life is a code of ethics, that’s difficult to breach.

If I could tell you, that all power is a mire,
That temptingly sucks you into consequences dire,
And no amount of money you earn or hire,
Can buy you an ounce of the happiness you desire.

Dewdrops are an illusion of overnight rain,
And your honour is more worth anything you gain,
For all else are images that will recur again,
Like the endless cycle of pleasure between pain.

- GUPTA GHOST

Falling Leaves

2007-03-01T00:31:00.000+05:30

When you wake up on a cloudy morning,

And feel the coolness set your skin burning,
When fortune plays a rhythmless tune,
And beyond dune is yet another dune.

When you can no longer bear any more,
And there’s still a lot more in store,
When your inherent ability is brought to fore,
And from the lashing, your mind and senses are sore.

When familiarity seems a total stranger,
And lurking in the corners is danger,
When things begin to happen none too soon,
And there’s no sign of the oncoming monsoon.

Across the sea, when no shore is visible,
And the crack of dawn, seems not credible,
When the last bit of despair and of fear,
Is replaced by a flood of tear after tear.

With the shadows around growing longer,
And the weakness within getting stronger,
When the certainties in life begin to ponder,
And neighbours appear to shift away yonder.

When the vapours begin to gradually freeze,
And yet, there’s no sign of the comforting breeze,
When at horizon, the earth meets the sky,
And ‘within your reach’ is still too high.

When the stars begin, to one by one fall,
And everyday demands seem to get too tall,
When the mountains begin their forward surge,
And to do nothing you require a greater urge.

When the densest fog seems too clear,
And your enemies want to get really dear,
When the distances seem very much near,
And yet, your own heartbeat, you cannot hear.

When everybody in your life goes nowhere,
And being here is no longer the same as being there,
When nothing, is the maximum that you will share,
And indifference is about all that you care.

When everything is visible even in the dark,
And yet, not a single arrow finds its mark,
When the shadows throw themselves on the light,
And even the meek don’t give up without a fight.

When at the climax of a successful show,
You forget the direction in which to row,
And the shame of failure, doesn’t even let you bow,
For, the seeds of desperation, it has sought to sow.

That there is a tomorrow, suffice it to know,
Keep your cool and let the bad times flow,
Falling leaves in autumn aren’t the ending,
But a sacrifice for the offshoots of a new beginning.

- GUPTA GHOST

Effort

2007-03-01T00:30:00.001+05:30

What impresses most of us is a soaring kite,
Displaying to the wind its unsolicited might,
A kite is a piece of paper the slightest wind can ruffle,
Yet it survives, because of its incessant struggle.

The sight of butterfly reminds us of beauty,
Whose wings are an example of perfect symmetry,
From the cocoon, it has to itself wriggle,
Else it will remain forever a cripple.

A journey of a thousand miles, begins with a step,
Remember, Rome was not built in a day,
Do not delay, or deny yourself the beginning step,
For, while the sun shines, you need to make hay.

The greatness of achievement, lies not in success,
But in trying persistently, without a recess,
You have to first erect a fountain, to see it spout,
Because life itself begins with an effort.

- GUPTA GHOST

Dewdrops

2007-03-01T00:27:00.003+05:30

Glistening dewdrops herald the vibrant new morn,

And on its incessant tour, the sun is again born,
Fascinated, I reach for a leaf with a delicate hand,
And as if by instinct, the dewdrops slide down to a thirsty land.

Life itself is transparent like the dewdrops on a viewing glass,
People look around and smile at the lush green grass,
By the time they turn back, they see only the brown barren land,
And life to them seems no longer so resplendent and grand.

As cautiously as I climb up life’s stairs,
I am increasingly met with confusing stares,
I walk up to the door, laughing amidst a group,
But step in alone, with only my destiny to grope.

I look around to find a face I can read,
And surprisingly there is no one I need,
With every step, a changing world opens anew,
Like the ever-fresh glistening drops of morning dew.

- GUPTA GHOST

Butterfly Dance

2007-03-01T00:25:00.000+05:30

You look up and see a butterfly fluttering,

As from flower to flower it goes nectar-seeking,
Similarly, each one of us has a distinct role,
Fulfilling which we must set our sights on a higher goal.

Just like the different patterns on different butterflies,
The light in one’s eyes may be the beauty in another’s eyes,
Sometimes, moments of life and moments of death come as a surprise,
The reason for this mystery of life, we are none the wise.

On reaching the base, aim for the mountain peak,
On reaching the peak, the sky you must seek,
Conquering the sky, reach out for the stars,
Never mind if you fall, time will heal the scars.

Remember that your life is just a butterfly dance,
Which pleases the watcher at every instance,
Never let go, even if you have to crawl the distance,
For you will never again get such a chance.

- GUPTA GHOST

Be Yourself

2007-03-01T00:23:00.000+05:30

The eagle flying high above feels the burning heat,

That caused the scars on a man walking bare feet,
However the sun doesn’t hide its brilliance behind a cloud,
Just because people in a desert, move around in a shroud.

What makes the moon the crux of the night, is its ambience,
It’s soothing rays remain, whether in crescent or in variance,
A late night man, about a moonless night complaining,
Doesn’t stop the moon’s cycle of waxing and waning.

A symbol of ceaseless sturdiness are the mountains,
The very foundations of solidarity is what it contains,
It never bends to anything or anyone until it is eroded,
For the lowly passing cloud, it doesn’t bend its head.

Never do something, just because it is done by others,
If God had wanted it so, He would have made you like others,
But YOU are unique, you have your own self,
Remember, at all times in life, to be proud to be yourself.

- GUPTA GHOST

A New Beginning

2007-03-01T00:20:00.000+05:30

A tired old moon sets, as a new dawn begins,
I stand shattered, looking down on my wins and losses,
Not realizing that its long since you weren’t there for me,
But I have always felt, that in my heart you will always be.

In a few more years, the memories may wear off,
And those days of happiness may soon tear off,
Opening the gates for the gradually rising wave of misery,
Showing me that effort is the way out of this drudgery.

As you progress, the sand under your feet may erode,
But only to make way for a new untravelled road,
So put a foot forward, and achieve what you are able,
Or just spend your life incoherently counting a pebble.

During the journey, it is inevitable to fall on your knees,
But don’t let your vision fall, below the tops of trees,
For I shall walk step by step with you till the ending,
If only you take heart, and make a new beginning.

- GUPTA GHOST

To Live Is To Risk Dying

2007-02-28T23:39:00.000+05:30

To begin walking is to risk falling,
To grow up is to risk innocence,
To give is to risk return,
To live is to risk dying.

However,

To smile is to stake sorrow,
To cry is to stake happiness,
To love is to stake life itself.

But aren't people going about these activities and more every single moment of life. Nobody feels the amount of risk that every person takes with every breath, but everybody feels the result of breath itself. Nobody feels the blood flowing through the veins, but everybody feels the effect of every heartbeat.

Life itself and the world it surrounds us with is full of such paradoxes. Things that you never know, things you know but never feel, things you feel but never understand, things that you understand but can't express, and things that you manage to express but nobody understands or bothers to understand.

The poems that will be posted in this blog are all such expressions of the things mentioned above, which I have been able to express, but it is left to the reader, to understand or even choose to understand them.

For, to choose to understand, is to stake ignorance.

- GUPTA GHOST

1. Almost all the poems will contain some form of rhyme scheme(including an innovative a/a scheme. The name of the blog as you can see is 'licence to rhyme'. It's a licence that I have taken upon myself to fully exploit, subject however to the limits of poetic appropriateness. If something obstructs the flow of the theme, I have always taken care to do away with the rhyme, than sacrifice the theme for pretty decorations(I strongly believe in the saying "Content is King").

2. No effort is complete without mentioning the persons behind such a venture, for if it wasn't for the labourers, there wouldn't be Pyramids, yet nobody knows the name of even a single labourer, although people are able to rattle off an impressive list of the person buried inside, his wife's name and even their grandchildren's name. That is what has been left to posterity.

Let people not accuse me of the same. So here goes a thanks to:

A) Mr. G. Satish Babu for getting me serious about poetry by doing nothing in that regard(he actually did something else, but it resulted in me getting into this, and besides I must really thank him for giving it more prominence than I thought it would get).

B) Ashish Verma for giving me the guts to put my efforts in the right direction, when all my roommates dissuaded me saying a head-on fight with Mr. Satish Babu would lead to complicated problems. If my poems ever even reached the notice board that they finally did, its hats off to Ashish Verma, and his persistence(what would I achieve without you Sadde).

C) Akshi Arora, Aparna Reddy and an 'Anonymous Girl' for helping me get into new and more instinctively forbidden sections, things I never thought I would ever get my pen to write, but you people pulled it off and with style and an iron grip on me.

D) Dr. Ashok Karri, who would patiently disturb his own peaceful solitary lunch, to read each of my poems and give comments on them(people and he himself would say it was nothing, but it means a lot, to find a person willing to read a piece of non-syllabus/non-career/non-celebrity literature).

E) Last of all, and maybe the crumbs of thanks left, to you, for even visiting this page.

3. Earlier my poems were on a site that I had designed(with the artistic designing skills that I possessed, it was bound to be a disaster, but I went ahead anyway(read above about RISK). It was only later I got to know that people were more willing to give suggestions and comments about the design than about the content(that really hurt a content-oriented person like me). So I decided it was high time I shifted to a place where people wouldn't have much scope to criticise the design and rather focus their energies on the content(although there will still be such people, I wouldn't really bother, because the design wasn't by me).

4. Last and definitely the least, but nevertheless an important point by itself, PLEASE COMMENT ON ANY POEM THAT YOU READ. People improve by criticism, not by flattery. You need not have delusionary worries that you are a nobody, and you cannot comment. Even the humble ant has something to teach the mighty lion. A simple comment like "I didn't even understand a single line" would teach me to be more simple in future(after all I am not writing to indulge my ego in my proficiency in the language, I am just writing to express my thoughts, and if they cannot be understood, there's no point in continuing to express them).

So feel free to comment. Don't let limits of self-imposed decency to curtail the level or vocabulary of your comments. Speak whatever you like, I won't mind, but what I do mind, is not hearing you speak at all.