Love.....

As the first rays of dawn penetrate the darkness of my room, and I smack my lips to taste the sweet stolen kiss of the droplets of rain that trespassed through the open window, I lie on my bed pointlessly pondering over the value or vagueness of the various vignettes so verbosely associated with emotion called love.
What is Love I wonder? Is it my hormones speaking for themselves? Is it a specific region of my mind? Is it a portion of my heart who's only function I know is to beat? Or is it something beyond definition?
What creates love and what brings an end to it? Is love like energy which is bound to be conserved? Is it like a mortal and is meant to die? Or is it as per legends, eternal? Is it spontaneous or deliberate?
When did I 1st fall in love? I remember I 'loved' life even before I knew my 'love'. 'My love'! What a misnomer! Is love personal, or mutual? I 'love' my parents even before I knew how to 'love'. I 'love' my friends, even those who haven't returned it back to me. Even the person who feels I don't deserve to be 'loved', 'loves' someone. Then what is it, that makes someone deserve 'love'? Is it a prize to be earned? And then, there's this one person who makes me feel completely differently about 'love'. Is 'love' just another feeling? If so, how is it more complicated than the sum of all the others? How has it evolved from Shakespeare to Sparks?
This was all about life and the living. What about the aroma of the first breeze of dawn? What about the green of the leaves after the first showers of rain? What about silence of the hours when the world sleeps? What about the unseen bird which chirps outside my window? What about the vivid dreams of worlds far off? What of the whispers of the wind speeding past my ears? I 'love' them too.
And what is to be done with love? Is love to be felt? To be spread? To be shown? To be made? To be earned? Or just to be loved?
Can you love love? Or love to be loved? Or love to love?
Past the plethora of phenomena paired with love, the persistent perpending pursues people preposterously.
Four puny letters. What chance do they have against the brilliance of human mind? Is there anyone who can define love for me?

Tragedy

The ceiling fan revolves in its own might,
Seemingly impossible to reach,
But it is also not invincible,
One day it also has to pay for its deeds.

Because there was once a lad,
A heart full of life he had,
He was all that one could dream of,
He was all that God could offer.

But such is the love that he fell into,
A trance from which one can seldom rise,
The girl was beautiful and gentle,
They were apart, but their hearts forever close.

But life is not even close to a fairy tale,
It has twists and turns at every step,
The girl was married to someone else.
And led away past the seven seas.

In the silent recluse of loneliness,
In his unfathomable hollow grief,
He became all but a shadow within.
Sadness within him was so deep.

But then he rose to a new height,
With a rope in his right hand,
It was supposed to be his liberator.
The closest friend that he had.

Is this the price of falling in love?
That a wretched soul has to pay,
Is this all there is to do in life???
So helpless we can do nothing but pray.

Such is the pain he felt in his heart,
That even death itself was afraid.
But at last death accepted him as its own,
And led him to his final sleep.

I could have told this story better,
Had I been there in the cold winter,
But I am happy now that I am alive.
If only enough, that I can tell it right.

For Her only

I am a troubled soul , i am but a forgotten existence
Everything about me is evil,i am nothing but a nuisance
But still you fell in love with me,still you made me yours
I am all i was,but now i am much more

To love u till eternity,is the only thing i want
To caress you and hold u is what is in my heart
Because u are the reason,and i am the effect
Because if u r not here,i would rather be dead

You changed the way i have always lived my life
Your love made me whole,helped me thrive
You are as much an angel,as much you are mortal
To make you mine is what i want,and that's all

To have you in my life,is like having light
Even if you have the whole day,you still hate the night
To have you in my arms,is like heaven on earth
You have no idea what you mean to me,right from the start

You misunderstand me,and complain of my lack of love
But you fail to see my spirit, o my darling dove
Since you are my angel,i hate to see you cry
To make you happy,to make u whole,i will rather die

You are mine,as you always will be
In my heart mind and soul
You are the only reason i have
To live this life till old.

Painter

The sun blazed fire.Beads of sweat intervened his staggering steps.Hot air scorched his skin and singed his hair.He fought on.Recovering his shoes from beneath the sand every time,trying so desperately to take another step.He had to make it to the next sand dune.For the hundredth time in the last minute,he clasped the tattered canvas flask at his hip.Like the ninety nine previous attempts,he found it contained no water,not even a drop.Sweat ran into his eyes,setting them on fire.He stopped to take a breath.And then,the sand storm arrived.The knees buckled,the flicker in his eyes died cold.The dune was two feet away.Oblivion beckoned him.Sahara had claimed yet another soul...



The white lifeless horizon stretched to eternity.The effect was numbing.Giant blocks of ice,sillhoutted against the clear sky loomed large.The land of eternal twilight,Antarctic,was hauntingly quiet.He trudged along,icy knives piercing his skin with tireless cruelty.The ice axe slipped out of his grip,he had lost his right thumb to the frost.The wind howled, sensing an easy prey.But he kept on his struggle,the hope fading slowly but surely.His skin took on a lifeless hue.The glaciers laughed in mirth;the time was here.He slipped,caught a crevice,the ice parted,opening the gate way to hell.The icy water gulped him without complaining,not a scream escaping his throats.No ripples showed on the surface.Snow gathered on the ice axe,lying a feet from the crevice,slowly but surely...



Heavy pantings echoed in the curtained room.The bodies moved in a perfect rhythm,not caring about the world.It was a game they were playing,the huntress hunting the tiger.Sweat drenched the mattress.Ancient instincts and animal odours drove them on.Brutal,fast and lithe was their movements.Fierce was their aggression.He was the tiger,the huntress struggling to conquer him.She scratched,shrieked,pounced,writhed...the tiger relented.A thousand stars exploded in his head...draining him of his manhood.As the orgasm filled her like a warm sea green liquid,she embraced her victim and took a deep breath.All was still for a minute.Then the Duchess stood up,paid the gigolo and departed.The tryst was over;the pleasure a thing of the past...



I slithered through the dry leaves.Moved past the ancient trees.I could sense my prey.I moved unhurriedly with languid grace,my silky skin reflecting the meagre sunlight that trickled past the leafy dome.And then,I saw him.I could feel his unease,the increased pulse.I knew he had sensed me too.And then he heard me.He looked about frantically,trying to locate me.He increased his pace.It was an easy kill.I could toy with him for a while.My slit tongue snaked out in pleasure.I rose to my full height,and met his eye.I was overwhelmed with the smell of fear he emanated.I spat on his face,venom piercing his skin like darts.He writhed on the ground.I am the King Cobra,I thought,emperor of the jungle;and then,delivered the killing strike...



Yeah I am a painter.I paint death.I paint desires.I paint lust.But do I paint a canvas flask full of water?Do I paint an ice axe still warm from a firm grip?Do I paint life?These questions have no answers,find them in my paintings.Yes,I am a painter indeed...

Mary Jane

emerald to the eyes
green fairy of all myths
you bear my love
you deny my hate
joy has embraced me
sorrows seem to fade
submarines of life
flow through me
you attract me
delight me,stay with me
my angel
my love
passion thrives in me
thrilling my senses
your hips agitate me
your lips ponder me
lustrous beauty
mystical allure
god's pride
devil's fear
you keep me alive
you keep me breathing
you are my angel
my love,my forever
my MARY JANE

Ashes of Depravity

Rise...........

I will rise, change it slowly
Fight back, cheat reality
Resurrect whats forsaken
I stand, never beaten.

In the ashes of depravity
(forever) lies my sanity
Holding on, through my struggle
Immortal, never forgotten.

Its black, desperate, desolate.....

I want you by my side
To get me through this night
In you, i still believe
You are my salvation.

The Other Woman

Kohl-lined eyes and a blue skirt
Sometimes even a dash of red,
And she was beautiful for one more night
Before the sun rose,torn, from her bed..

The mirror glared and the sunbeams scorned..
The skirt shed tears from where it hung,
The patches cried with heartbroken sobs..
The blue that had soothed, now stung..

She sat bare from dawn to dusk..
Having only void feelings to lend,
To the grieving dusk that wished
Only for a quick,painless end..

She lived in his pleasure of leisure
But perished when conscience begun..
The daily knocking on the door..
The door that his beloved did shun..

I stand in the doorway of solitude,
Like an untouched bottle of gin..
Lured in by the mirage of love..
Tumbling upon the sands of sin..

Trapped in what makes my heart beat..
I've embraced every thorn, spared none..
But while I am "the tragic hero"..
She remains.. "The Other Woman"..