Cut the Strings

I looked at his 6 string - all baige.
Those damned half-mirrored surfaces,
reflected my rage.
Luck on him is bestowed
Not on us. Our fault? Tell us.
Yes. I'm-------------Jealous.

I tried as hard as him - or more.
Worked my pitch, my scale, my rhythem,
all of it before.
He played better. He won.
But why? How? - I was his teacher.
Bloody--------------------Leecher.

I see the prize. I get ready to kill.
Sign from Satan. Knife - by the side.
Anger - to my fill.
Scared by the string?
Leave it alone? Let it be? Shut it?
I---------------------------cut it.

Wrapped, the junk, back for the victor.
Nice lesson!- My achievement for today.
Ha! Have your award, Sir!
-------------------------------------
Came back for the morning class.
Boy! has got guts. Prize! still covered?
You--------------------------coward.

"You're the real winner. Yours." said he.
I was happy. I was sad. I was shocked.
I wasn't ready.
I couldn't stand my presence.
Tried hard to hide my tears, my pain.
All----------------------------in vain!



Note: Each para is actually 2 half paragraphs with rhyme sequence aba, cdd respectively. The dots are meant to create a pause-effect , showing that the teacher is actually unsure of what to do. And finally through the last words succumbs to instinct.

The Keyhole

I sat on my knees and peeped through THE keyhole, 'The greatest invention of mankind.' It's shape seemed to be like an inverted drop of water, the most refreshing drop that I ever encountered in my life. I thought I could look through it for ages. For through that tiny hole, I could for the first time see those lovely eyes so closely and for such a long time.

The Magic, that your eyes behold,
A Thousand lovely tales, untold.
The sparkle in your eyes, Oh Love!
Is like the brightest, snow-white Dove.

I wished to say, but I couldn't. I sat there wondering when was the first time I spoke about her to Robins, my best friend. "Ah, I distinctly remember", I said in my mind.

.......................................................................................................................................................................
It isn't even 8 months since she came to our college and she is already an addiction. I never talked to her, actually never got the courage. But I think, at instances our eyes have met. It was on those little instances, that I sipped those odd drops of life, extending my license to live for probably a few more hours. It was in those moments of euphony, that I asked her several questions about her life, about what she thought of me and told her about how much I admire her, love her. I could never speak it out, but I only hoped that I was successful in establishing the mental connection.
....................................................................................................................................................................

I remember this is what I said. But that time seems a distant past now, probably several aeons back. And I have made no progress. In a months time, I will leave this home of mine for a strange territory, which I so fear to tread. I have decided, that I will give it one genuine effort before I finally quit.I sat there, sometimes appreciating her and sometimes THE MOST BEAUTIFUL and definitely the luckiest keyhole I had encountered.

I looked at my watch, it was six, in an hour or two she will go for dinner, I will have to act fast. For a moment I was really confused as to which among the two seemed more magical, more mystical. I looked at my watch, it was half past eight.

I don't remember what she was doing or how her room looked, or where I was. I didn't even remember who I was and how did I come here. "Wait, I remember", I tried to recall my state of mind before reaching here.

...................................................................................................................................................................
Here I am standing in front of her hostel room, outside her door, trying to gather courage, to tell her of my feelings. I know, I have none (The courage I mean). Wait, what's that??

A keyhole.

voice from somewhere: 'No, don't think of it Om, its unethical!!!!'

Uh, right, its unethical, well I don't claim to be a man of ethics. Its just once, just for the first and last time. , 'Everything is fair in Love and War', I guess someone had written that line for me and considering my present state of mind, I can comfortably declare that ITS WAR.
....................................................................................................................................................................

Yes that's what I said. It was virtually a DO-OR-DIE for me. Even that seemed a distant past now. All I really cared for was, I was looking at the most beautiful person on this planet and she wasn't complaining. I couldn't think of any means to thank THE KEYHOLE. The most wonderful moments of my life were only because of its help.

And then suddenly she was out of my sight, no longer in the frame of the magical keyhole, and then I realized how badly my knees were paining. But I wasn't complaining. I remembered a portion of another poem I wrote for her,

The eerie winter dawn
concerneth me no more.
Thy lips-the petals, thy tresses-the feathers
thy eyes-the hearty ripples
on the river's lovely shore.

I looked around at a strange world. Everything seemed so blurred for 5 minutes, I had strained my eyes far too much. And then I saw Robins taking a bunch of Roses to Laila's room, I guess it is her birthday today. "Hey, Wait Robins!!! One of your roses....", I wished to say, but something stopped me. I don't know what it was. I picked up the rose, while still on my knees. The door opened up and there she was standing in front of me and I was there on my knees and then there was this ROSE.

The Sands of time go thinning away,
Black clouds have blocked the silver ray.
Throw off the veil, Let there be light.
For my eyes seek the Friendship of your sight.

I don't have powers nor a magical wand,
My feelings for you ask thee for your hand.
A soul, for friendship is all I seek.
A yes from your side is all I see..............

I wished I could tell her this poem, which gave me company in sleepless nights, for it symbolised her. And believe me I did. I didn't have to do anything after that. We bought a new house last week and guess the name I gave it. You are right, We call it THE KEYHOLE.

---I visit a busy street
Amidst all the unfamiliar faces,
I try to find a face,
that could for a moment make me feel nostalgic.
---I try to talk with them
Dejected
I come back
---I try to join a group
I feel like a secluded drop of oil in water,
in search of another droplet to mingle.
I come back.
---Maybe its all my fault
Maybe I am a bit too dense,
to mingle with them.
To disappear among their ideas, so eased out.
---I try. TRY
For days altogether.
And then.
I learn to ease out.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
---Now every face I see,
seems so familiar.
Every person my family.
Every group my home.
I learn to rely on them.
Every moment,
I make a toast to life,
for giving me such a big home.
CHEERS!!!!
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

---One day,
I don't know why?!
I feel weak.
I need some help, DESPERATELY.
---But,
I am unperturbed.
For I have such a big home.
I go to my busy street.
---I see all those familiar faces.
.
.
And suddenly
They DiSaPpEaR!!!
"Hey wait", I cry.
"I don't recognize you anymore", they say.
---I see all those unfamiliar faces
"Neither do I", I think.
Probably,
the one I knew are hidden,
beneath these masked strangers.
---I feel weak
and again
My Hope, My Home,
is gone.
I spit and move on.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
---I return to my original house,
My first home.
The house isn't as big.
But the home is huge.
---I feel all my weaknesses.
.
.
And suddenly
they DiSaPpEaR!!!!
---"CHEERS!!!", I say.
I have found a new home in an old one.
I have rediscovered
and realized
My True-Home
and beneath its very roof
"My True Self"

Unfinished

The Sands of time go thinning away,

Black clouds have blocked the silver ray.

Throw off the veil, Let there be light.

For my eyes seek the Friendship of your sight.

I don't have a rose, or a gift or a band,

But I ask to thee, earnestly, for your hand.

A soul, for friendship is all I seek.

A yes from your side is all I see..............

I Love You for the Love in your eyes

The Magic, that your eyes behold,
A Thousand lovely tales, untold.
The sparkle in your eyes, Oh Love!
Is like the brightest, snow-white Dove.

The twinkle of a distant star,
An early, dewy, pearl-white flo'er.
Glow no more, to sight, Oh Dear.
There's nothing more Fresh or more Austere.

In your eyes I see, I feel, I live.
I see my world, less harsh, less stiff.
I feel our soul, as one, as a whole.
But I live your life, For that's my goal.

I love you, Love! and you won't have to wait,
'Cos I will be yours, Be it soon, Be it late.
I love you, Love! But don't you cry.
I Love You for the love in your eyes.

Whilst Thou Art Far

Whilst thou art far
from my lone painful heart.
Time doth dilate
in its lengthy wheeling cart.

The joys of a spring
elate me no more.
the flowers, the chirps,the wind, the grains,
the hint of thy face, all sour.

The days art not bright,
Darkest is the night.
Water quencheth my throat
Not the thirst of my sight.

Dreaded more my dreams art so whence
layeth a man in the shadow of thy hair.
Playeth with thy curls, the rose of thy lips.
My dreams art not true,
My dreams art not fair.

Whilst thou art near
my cheerful lively heart.
My clock ripeth away,
the entire of my past, my present apart.

The eerie winter dawn
concerneth me no more.
Thy lips-the petals, thy tresses-the feathers
thy eyes-the hearty ripples
on the river's lovely shore.

The Bird's Own Sorry Fate

Many a times ,I wonder Why,
You-Humans wish to explore the sky,
A flight on wings does make you laugh,
A flight on wings does make us cry.

We birds are often metaphors for freedom,
Lest one knows the tensions behind.
Hundreds of them I can count in Random
The "Hundreds of those" which you may not find.

The problems facing which we are grown
from a place much above the land.
Is much more different from where
you have known,
Is much more different from the
soil or the sand.

The mighty wind does sweep us apart.
Like the waste you sweep with your broom.
It shatters our home,
It shatters our hearts,
It shatters our hopes,
with a single Ka-Boom.

The water form the monstrous sky
Waters our efforts into many a half.
A flight in the sky does make me cry.
Though a flight in sky does make you laugh.

The idea that "We are free", is truly absurd,
We are like the bounds of the sky so bound.
Every now and then,
our hopes being shattered,
Life is far better
down on the land.

Every now and then our hopes being shattered,
Life is far better down on the land.
You often wish
that "You were a bird"
and I often wish
that "I was a man".

The Quarrel with Shame

The Torture, The Torment, I can not tell,
that took out my spirits,from deep inside me.
The Tantrum of Tragedy,the sour taste of hell,
destined as my fate,forever to be.

I tried hard to forget,I tried hard to smile,
To wash from my mind,the memories so grey.
But the shattering of strength,of my heart so fragile
That state of no hope,the pain still does stay.

The battle with ideas,the Quarrel with shame,
the conflict with people,who tread against my way.
Some pity of my misery,Some spit on my name,
But either way they remind meof the damned day's dismay.

The face of the monster,the pierce of disgust.
the drama of cowardice
of the heartless insane,
I tried hard to forget,that Murder of trust
But my struggle for freedom
ended in
A quarrel with shame.

A Dim Star

I am a dim star,just born of space dust,trying to contribute,to this world,a fraction of light.To this world,which cares only for the brightest of stars & doesn't give a damn about others for the fear of having to stress their sight.
I can feel the gases in my womb,trying to burst out to show their potential,to show their might.
But I know,so I stop them and tell them that,"The stage is not yet set.If you force your way out now,with all your zeal to see the world,you will fail.
Because the fire within you is far too hot that it can eclipse your vision & far too cold for others to recognize.You will end up being yet another star among the zillions.
You are budding yet.So you are within a spore, that's me.When the time will come,though a long time from now,I will let you free,to show to the world,your light,your might.
That day; You will be me & we will burn together & show to the world the strength that unity beholds.Till then you will have to wait my child,But never let the fire within you die.Because its that fire which keeps both of us alive.
"I can already visualize the smile on the face of children,pointing towards us,admiring our brightness.
The reflection of those smiles will shine on my face & inspire me to shine brighter day in and day out.
At the same time I expect to see jealous eyes of fellow stars but then I won't care because I'd have left them far behind.
I can see,the willingness to imitate,in the eyes of newly born dim stars.
I know at all times there will be monstrous dark clouds in the veil of anonymity who would try to eclipse my brightness,my face from the world & try to spread the blanket of darkness.
But I will have to keep in mind always that Light maketh its way from the darkest of clouds.
The days of dark clouds are short.They will have to make way for the light which torments them in their dreams.I am one among the zillions of dim stars
But I am one among the zillions who holds within,such fire of being recognized & the will to imitate the might of the brightest.