The heart
still beats
for the one
it can't have.
The waves
grow rapidly
in the ocean
of the heart
and sound
like a roar.
The memories
come back
after hitting
hard at
walls of the heart
only to
bring back
to life
a desire
unfulfilled.
Only the desire
I am left with.

The world seems 

to have covered itself 

in a blanket;

an old, withered, 

tattered blanket.

The air stagnates,

as does time.

Nothings seems

to be moving.

My mind is coated

with a thin translucent sheet

blurring all thoughts...

In the twinkling of stars,
In the cool sands of Thar,
In the breeze that touches
your heart and soul,
In the darkness of sky,
In the flash of your eye,
In the clouds that spread
a little here and there,
In the waning and waxing
of the Moon,
In all of these and a little more,
You realize soon,
You will find my trace
all about
and everywhere.

Listening To The Sound of Cars On a Misty Evening

Winters were approaching

the Sun had toned down,

that day as I remember

wore some misty frown.

My heart beats went faster

as I walked on my way

to meet you under the sky

and clouds of hues grey.

There you were standing,

my heart skipped a beat,

the smile was inevitable,

my cheeks felt some heat.

You asked me to come along

and experience something

that I couldn't have guessed

you loved so much doing

We walked together.

On a gleeful bend,

our hands brushed a little,

it seemed never to end.

We reached the street

where cars passed us by,

You took me to its middle

and I let out a sigh.

You shut your eyes

as if giving me a cue,

the sound of cars were extraordinary,

so I closed my eyes too

I do not know what was it 

in that simple act that touched me

but now i love doing it too

standing in the middle of a street.

Road to Somewhere

Sometimes narrow,
sometimes wide,
sometimes smooth,
of gravel sometimes,
lined with flowers,
sometimes with cacti,
clouds hover above sometimes,
hard-hitting Sun some other times,
wind blows sometimes fast,
still is the air, forever it seems to last,
sometimes a group,
alone sometimes,
follow this path.
A path to where?
A tad baffled,
but I think,
it is the Road to Somewhere.

Words :
beads of poetry
hang around,
touching a chord within,
that creates unrest,
a turmoil inside
to weave these beads
in exquisite pattern,
one that seductively
gets engraved on
someone's soul.