BON VOYAGE...WUNDERLUST WITH A METANOIA

http://www.telegraphindia.com/1141022/jsp/calcutta/story_18951661.jsp

Hi everyone,

Read the story and see for yourself what these two travellers are trying to prove to the big bad world! That it isn't so bad after all!!! These travellers have set out to go around the world in 80 days, of which they have completed half their journey!! 

And where is the money coming from?! From human kindness!! As you read, wish them so they can complete the journey they have set out for!!

Happy reading!

Just you wait

Just you wait

Just you wait!

Let the world bloom!

Just let it bloom!

You will see

How pathetic your poverty is!

Just a no match!

You will see

How irrelevant your losses are!

Your addictions of acquired grief

Would go frustrated shopping for it.

Just let the lands of every corner of my world reap!

It would cover you all with obscene wealth

Your graphs and your GDPs would go berserk

With numbers you could never calculate!

Just you wait!

Let the world bloom!

Just let it bloom!

22 October 2014

Rebirth

Rebirth

Persons, objects, situations; bad, hurtful

Poems are oozing out of them,

Like puss. Looking for healing attention,

In alphanumeric soulagements!

So! In the absence of referential communication,

Our world would come to a halt.

Nothing to talk ill about!

Our raison d’être, threatened.

The flower there...blooms...

In your poems, not in your thoughts;

O how horrid is this mask, how inert are these words

Lifeless, lifeless, a bonsai world,

Abandon them once and for all

Go up to the sky for sky’s sake

And screech ... the flower blooms in my thoughts!

There I flower blooms in my thought,

No matter how obnoxious or innocuous

Are its roots!

References cease, matters at ease,

An overlooked flower is reborn!

20 October 2014

Grief

Grief is an addiction

When you have withdrawal symptom, your mind

Runs and shops it for you

Sponsored table

All I need is a sponsored table,

No, it’s not what you think

I have restricted access to the first love

:-)

:-)

When languages are Latin and Greek,

A smile solves the riddle, like magic.

It’s not necessary to understand every word,

As long as we listen to the singing bird!

While graphs and figures belong to the geek,

A roar of laughter eases all the puzzle-trick.

I am happy I wrote this.

18 October 2014

Imperfection

Imperfection

True, some images are in the middle of a blue

Nothing might sell as a colourful bluff

But the shades of sadness lie in the moist canvas anew

Imperfection buys the right to laugh

17 October 2014

Perspective

Perspective

Crowded bus;

Heads, first turning towards the trapped sky,

In search of air,

Then turn towards the ground,

Beyond the reach of sweats,

Eyes take them to the cars.

A car owner, inside fresh cool air,

Thinks of the monthly instalment traps,

On his left, a hearse passes by,

A flowered body with crying relatives;

His eyes on the right see an ambulance

Carrying a dying patient,

He thinks of anyhow

Coming back to life,

For then he will change his world.

17 October 2014

Doctors and engineers of poetry

Doctors and engineers of poetry

Hey you doctors and engineers of a breed,
Write what you want that your heart has to read.
Amuse yourselves rogues with the cut-paste rules,
With doctrines little dull that stare like the fools.
Your rules are so fixed that they cannot even limp,
You are covered with self you hired little pimp.
Poetry is not this? It is never ever that?
You must be married to a sick and meek brat!

It is here right with us, they’re unequal and same,
They sing and they cry, with or without shame.
Feeling that’s shy, yet brave on the go,
That’s just a little hint, you pseudo intello.
In verses that run without and within,
They’d better make some sense for your borrowed little grin.
Your eyebrows would rise to discard the game!
For you’d want to rule, with your willy-nilly name!

Listen up you there, you knotty dotty dud,
Let us also stay in our cosy little thud,
You go ahead and rot where your sickness would fly,
Liars that we are, we’d seldom comply.
Go wherever you want, with your breasts and your chests,
Our lines are not marked, unlike you and the rest.
You protectors of poems, you’re here to stink and rust,
We’d write about the nothings, we'd lick the brownie dust.

Now look at this here, just look at what I’ve done!
A set of rules so dry we’d throw and overrun!

16 October 2014

Doha

State of work

Everyone is working, laughing, playing

Boss, not proud, but worried about the job

Voice

Whenever the energy bundle’s voice rings

It sounds like a child, always, why

Yes, you are right

God is angry, revengeful; up in his arms to see you unsuccessful

Oh! Let me drink my coffee! Please?

Success

We are successful. Wars belong to the museums now.

Borders are protected from by the neighbours.

Personal

I kiss my lady. Onlookers pelt stones.

I burn her to death. Onlookers smell a personal choice.

Doha [normally in Hindi and Urdu], is a couplet with 24 instants (Matras) [13+11]. The rules for distinguishing light and heavy syllables are different in Sanskrit; In the Doha [English] I am trying to write, more than the rules, the message is important; couplet form is the only rule followed here. This is because, I am not a man of strict rules, I like rules when they function as banks of a river to mobilise its flow, nothing more and nothing less. Anybody can come and join in the river of Doha!