Unwritten Saga

There has never been a more romantic protagonist than ‘death’, waiting for a lifetime. You never know if he met ‘life’ and if they lived happily ever after. An embrace that withstood the test of times. A lullaby yet to be sung, an unfinished epilogue and an obituary to be inked. It is like a wave hitting a shore – never able to get hold of each other. The knots distances them and aggravates the desire. But when the stars align and the clock ticks in a perfect symmetry, the spirit is free. It is overwhelming, it is joyous, there are tears and there is yet another heart waiting to be slipped away from this euphoria.

In the silence of December,
Every year, I hear him tiptoeing.
He stands quietly,
Waiting for the last breath.

September

A crescent all sparkling, Glided gracefully into the solemn sky. It was a slow breeze, Unfolding the dawn of Autumn. Evenings brought a nostalgia, A past for which the heart would race. September lets you ponder, To travel back and retrospect. No matter what fruit it bears, Trees part with the leaves - Longevity reappraised. A prick, That awakens the soul. Nights are longer, Yet sleeplessness lingers. September is a mirror - Reminiscences flash through the mind. It is a flint, Ignites a doused desire.

Presenting the Moon

Waiting on the East wing,
She peaked onto the stage.

The other end
Pink skies,
Drew the curtain.
The sun steadily sunk.

Birds fluttered to their nests,
Men dusted and gathered together.
Smoke rose from chimneys.

Flanked by stars,
She slowly inched

All yellow and nervous.
A gentle breeze swept the clouds.
As if the passing souls
Wished her luck,
Her smile brightened
Moment after another.
A glimpse of such a beauty
Made the waters overjoyed.
A fortnight later
They would swell in grief.

Her radiance was not own,
But of a might master.
Some sparkles sprinkled here and there,
She could not touch them,
Reduced to memories-
Now light years away and gone.
In the eccentricities of vast expanse,
She submerged little by little.

In center she stood vibrantly
There were none to applause,
No eyes to grace.
The night solaced her,
No rush, no hecklers -
She meant to be herself.