If you cross me on your way,
perhaps you might wonder what this
box contains.

If you unravel me,
perhaps you would find innumerable chains.

If you unlock me,
perhaps you would miss that mist of air that would hit you,
to find the box empty.

If you walk away,
perhaps bewildered by the facade,
you would never know I lost my last hope.

If you cross me on your way.

I feel bare,
Nothing touches me.
My feet slip,
Where did these stairs come from?
I tumble and fall,
Catch me if you can.

Down, down, down,
Down, down, down.

Eternity.

My mind refuses contact,
Afraid it would go bad.
I wander around feeling empty,
This ship is sinking.
What do I want from life?
A reason to live?

The nakedness of this state bends me,
To remain clueless.
A new reason to feel empty,
A laugh from the corner.
What is inside of me?
I see no potential, no life, only barren ground.
My tears dry up even before they start to fall.
Who am I searching for?
No…. not love, but understanding.
Something no one has given me till now.
I search in vain, she says.
But how long do I wait?
Dragging my bent frame around,
This ship is half-sinking.

The Oak Tree

A glorious morning it was that day,
Filled with the smell of jasmine flowers
Emanating from that sordid room.
Sordid indeed it was, my room,
The closet from whence it came.
The smell traced a path across the garden
To a whole new world,
On the other side.

A world of fantasy,
A world contrasted to mine,
Where birds sang chirpily,
Flying in some delight upon finding game.
But for all it was,
The fantasy bore a single tree.
A huge oak right in the middle of my flower-sheltered field.
It was but huge,
Almost grazing the ceiling of the sky.
But what it was I loved the most was the world it carried inside .

A long lost closet I left behind,
Followed the path of my nose,
Leading the way to my new world,
For me to cherish and grow sublimed into.
To engross myself in its never-ending arms,
Away from all the rottened webs,
Away from all the turmoil that reddened my bleeding heart,
To embrace me into its firm arms.

I climbed and climbed trying to reach the top,
Bounded my slow lightening heart.
Its burdened state was pulling me down to the bottom,
But not too late to sail aloft.
The tree never seemed to end,
The day carried on till night came,
But I could not retire,
Till all the agony left my mind.

I tripped and caught on to one of your arms,
But lifted myself with no help.
You stand there tall, with might and pride,
But of no avail from your hollow inside.
Must I climb this trenched path,
Though arms are strong, they twist in vain.

Will I remember the days of clear conscience,
Even in a dark closet,
If I live in this confused clarity?

No matter the indulgence I have in you,
My tree, you cannot save me.
You cannot save me from all the rottened webs still hanging loose,
Targeted by strong winds of repurcussioning ponders.

Oh conscience!
My fight is but alone,
For even through despair and heart-break,
My salvation is through the other end of my closet,
The end that leads one to reality.

Apocalypse

Decayed discontent,
Perpetual endings,
A life of solitude,
Persisting monotony,
Trenches of disregard.

Lies, lies, lies,
When truth leads to destruction,
Superficial freedom,
Physical, but not of the mind.

Hounded by rules unfollowed,
Bounded by trust unfulfilled,
Vertigo in my dream,
Sanity unchallenged.

Hear my prayer,
Release my bounded thirst for strategy,
My solitude,
My indifference to self-interest.

Offer service to myself,
Dream of being complete,
Triumph at every thought,
Offer service.

A happy soul strives for its release,
A thought strives for its deliverance,
A mind strives for its use,
A person strives for his fulfillment.

As I walk down the green garden of light,
searching for that voice calling me day and night,
I stop to reach to the river of crystal clear opportunity.

As I bend down to feel that water, but yet,
it seems to slip away.
As I try and try and somehow never seem to touch it,
I look up.
A mirage? A facade?
But no, she looks like me, but is unlike me.

As she smiles and waves at me,
a feeling of surrealism creeps into me.
A slideshow,
she smiles, she shouts, she waves, she gasps,
all in vain, as no words reach me.
I turn around to look back, from where I came.
The contrast confuses me.

A sheet of light is all that differentiates the two sides,
Darkness, brightness.
As I stand on the brink of my world, the start of another,
all those memories rush in,
as if threatening to hold on, to carry on devouring me from the other side.

But I have reached here,
the place that was my every aim.
But yet something holds me back,
Conviction? Determination?

Am I dreaming,
when I see myself being lifted across the river onto her side?
But yes I am.
This is my summit.
And all this while I fought to reach here,
on the other side.

The side that faces darkness,
the many difficulties that has to be dealt with,
the side that annuls any pain that ever arose from within this bosom.