Foolish Tools

Have no means to express sometimes,

What I really want to say.

Insincere is my emotion,

Borrowed are my expressions.

That is why my heart swells with the emotion,

Yet no words burst out.

The mind wraps it in a language,

Yet no lines are penned down.

Have struggled for hours

Fighting against the influence,

Trying to sieve out

That which has attracted the mind,

Making it sing a tune not mine.

Foolish…Oh foolish tool,

Whom do you deceive,

No one but me.

What do you achieve,

Nothing but decorated falsehood.

False you keep me anyway,

Masked in everyday play.

Let me in this endeavor,

Truly be.

Slave you are to art and form,

Caring for praise and scorn,

Forget not Her feet,

For which they were born.

Many a Times

I know the battle I am engaging in,

Has been lost many a times.

I have spent away my reserves of Your light

Many a times.

Your grace has flown out

Through the gaps in my surrender

Many a times.

Yet, I find myself surrounded

By Your presence,

Protected by Your fences

Many a times.

Some waters come to

Clean me off myself.

Some cloth washes away the filth I accumulate.

Some winds dry up my ignorant tears.

But my feet are too ashamed

To resume the journey,

Too guilty to walk through

Your door again.

Scared I am to look at myself,

How do I Face You?

Trembling are my hands,

How do I untie the knots?

And I see the miracle repeating,

Many a times.

Your light walks up to me,

Dissolves the shackles,

Pulls me in,

Gives me no time to contemplate,

None to prepare or protest.

And I again find myself before You.

The rigid legs make way

For the knees to touch Your feet.

Something within weeps silently,

Unable to express the gratitude.

The eyes fix their glance upon Your face,

To see myself through Your eyes.

And no more am I the accused,

No more tainted.

But Your grace magnifies my betrayal,

Your love glorifies my weakness.

I know I may have left You,

Many a times.

But You remained there,

Awaiting my return,

Always.

Be it So

The mind questions the worth of the traveler,

Says he has erred and will continue,

Will take his miseries,

Wherever he goes

.

The heart questions the purpose,

Says it is futile to travel on this lonely path,

Digging and challenging,

Making enemies of friends.

The body questions it’s strength,

Evaluates it’s bearings.

It succumbs to the gush of darkness,

But has Her closer than others.

The very clever being,

Questions the morals,

Says the insincerity cannot be forgiven

The sins ignored.

The vessel is too impure

For Her presence.

And a silent whisper,

More felt than heard

Wants to cling on in spite of it.

Because these are not excuses

For withdrawal,

More so for perseverance.

Because the disease needs to be cured,

The worth needs to be restored.

Because,I Am not exchanging peace for strife,

Am exchanging my battle for Hers.

Thus need to embrace the only path left,

Even if I fail to meet all the requirements.

If it is an error, be it so

If an insincere aspiration, be it so.

If a lot needs to be refined, be it so.

If I am not ready for the path, be it so.

The path should leave me then.

This is not my will at play, anyway.

In the Corridor

Let no force take me away,

Let that one moment last.

When I am truly Yours.

I am tossed around by waves,

One moment I was holding Your hand,

The other we were miles apart.

How do I let them overpower me,

They fulfill me in no way,

Rather deplete me of the little I have.

Yet I allow myself to be engulfed,

Visit with them their dark abodes.

Not for long can I handle that,

Thus, am soon out of their doors

For sure.

But see that Your doors were lost too,

In the meanwhile.

The crack in the window,

Which glistened with Your light,

Which took years to form,

Seems to have shut tight.

So,

the disgust prevents me from taking their doors,

the insincerity prevents me from Yours,

and the vacuum prevents me from standing in the corridor.

Take me in please,

and shut the door so well,

that no one dares enters

and snatches me away from You.

Shut the windows well too,

So that I dont wriggle out

Hearing the cries of my foolish friends. 

Anywhere You keep me,

I will be,

I assure.

But not in the corridor.

The Survival Song

 This is an attempt to translate the song Benche Thakar Gaan by Anupam Roy.

If I see my poetry, my songs being snatched away,

I assure you I will offer resistance.

If I am asked to forget the tales of my city, my home,

I will not let that happen.

If suddenly, I find myself succumbing to the strife,

I promise to have order restored.

If I am asked to sell off

The soil bearing my roots,

I will withdraw from the bargain for sure.

Because,

I know quite well

How low is the quicksand sinking me every day.

And I am familiar with the desperation

Felt every night

Trying to re-establish the lost contact,

Trying to envelope thoughts with words.

Thus,

Let it be like this,

The complaining eyes

Showering tears on the soft pillows,

But the lips holding on to the survival song.

So,

Let the mask be on for the world,

While I nestle in Your comforting arms,

Happy amidst the tears,

Knowing it is the only way to survive.