In the corridor that connects birth and death,
Intense silence remains at standstill; there
Erupts a hushed moan, helplessly pleading
For some unexpressed assistance.

Let me own that silence, adopt it to
My soul, as meaningful moments,
That slips away elusively in the interlude
Of silence and sounds in life.

We make them into poems, in all
Its perfection and contemplate on it.
Open my eyelids after my death and
Look into the depth, without apprehension.
You will observe the ripples in the sea of
Tears that were kept away from dropping
Down through the cheeks, grimly.
Even the destiny is preventing me
To become insane, lest I forget
To remember everything…




 A blossom will  bloom once again in this stalk;
The tears that spills in darkness and gloom
Will disappear from the  countenance;
The tender sprigs will come out on the boughs
On the tumbleweeds of the desert.
The sun will peep through the dense canopy
Of the clouds when it showers, glittering
With its brilliant sunlight.
The woeful despair in the mind will depart,
As shadows from the darkened screen of the soul.
And a flower will bloom as a finger of the first rains.
The dazzling radiance of the morning sun
Shall commence dancing among the foliage
Where the birds are whistling in glee..
The entrancing melody of the meandering river
In its ripples, presenting a symphony orchestra,
And in its wake glide the toy boats  of the mind as
Happy reminiscences through the  waterway.
Again a flower will blossom  and the silver
Lining on the edge of the clouds will appear,
On the horizons of the  cluttered mind…..


How strange is the platform of life                
That exists with an origin unknown
And whose destination unseen!
We are mere individuals
Jinxed with squint eyes and colour blindness
Unable to decipher the hues of life!

But lo! How vibrant  is the essence of life!
How luminous is the play of colours in our life!
They are a prelude to our vociferous existence.
They add limericks to a derelict mind.
It precipitate to a hackneyed routine.
Are they not the nuances of an incandescent living?
They are a hymn to a life of harmony.
And they emanate from the subtle aura of the soul.

We embark on our sojourn to earth
With spots of red blood,  all over us.
Do they convey an unread message too?
The blue skies and deep ocean denote a truthful vision.
Though the purple fruits of distress hit us quite often.
Green leaves and trees show us the hope of eternal life;
Orange flowers, lend us strength and endurance;
The yellow sun that shines signifies honour and loyalty;
And the black terrain connotes  the ultimate end….

Is  life’s premises not  much complicated?
Though it commences with a threat through blood,
And concludes with embellished naught,
Transition of colours from red to black
Epitomises our journey of life.
What a radiant life  we  got to live!