To the Unknown Woman

there is this connection with you,
i've not felt even with the closest few,
the freshness of the morning dew,
reminds me each day of you

there is a mystery surrounding you,
everytime, it's something totally new,
i've tried hard to think it through,
but it remains an unsolved clue

there is a certain charm 'bout you,
it shakes me up, out of the blue,
i'm frozen, i know not what to do,
do i've to say anymore, take the cue

i've wanted to say this all along,
when you're with me, i'm brave and strong,
without you, i'm like a lyric without a song,
for your love, i shall wait forever, eternity long

November Musings

at the birth of dawn, emerges the lazy november sun,
ah, sleeping until late in the morning is so much fun
and then there is bouts of that special afternoon shower,
silver beads of water glistening on a bright red flower

there is somethin' special 'bout the november sky,
gazing at it, you never know how time passes by,
the smooth touch of the gentle evening breeze,
makes you go silent and pass into a motionless freeze

shadows of outstretched branches, on a november night,
dance to the sweet tunes of the filtered moonlight,
the moon plays hide and seek with the passing clouds,
making you wonder what mystery the nightfall shrouds

My half-gone shoe!

Ever since the time I set my eyes on you,
I made you mine without further ado,
you were fresh n bright and sprightly new,
I totally adored you, my precious Woodland's shoe

you protected me from dust and rain,
and stood by me through joy and pain,
I really trusted you, for you were totally true,
I'd have done anything for you, my darling shoe

on tough days, i was harsh with you,
and then sometimes, I was hurtful too,
but you never did mind my outbursts few,
I was blessed to have you, my committed shoe

and the passage of time took its toll,
slowly you lost all your body and sole,
I desperately tried to mend and fix you,
I was worried about you, my favorite shoe

now I see you lying here, faded and dying,
I am filled with sorrow and half-crying,
wishing I could do something to revive you,
without you I am incomplete, my dearest shoe

Parthasarathy - My Lord, philosopher and guide

Happy Krishna Jayanthi :)

The Lord, the source of everything big and small,
The Lord, the strength of objects that stand tall,
The Lord, the power behind those who never fall

The Lord who has the fiery disc and the mighty mace,
The Lord who has a serene smile and resplendent face,
The Lord who presides over eternal time and infinite space

The Lord of unsurpassed will and unmatched might,
The Lord of the good men and what stands for right,
The Lord who causes the evil men to cower in fright

The Lord who holds the universe in his palm,
The Lord who tormented his mother's calm,
The Lord who played cowherd on the village farm

The Lord who set the commandment and the norm
The Lord who cleared the archer's mental storm
The Lord who showed the world his mighty form

The Lord who is sought even by men devoid of desire
The Lord who is always there to douse the mind's fire
The Lord who is never away from a calling dire

The Life of Drudgery

By the window, I stand and stare,
watching wearied traveler's full of care
forlorn creased brows they wear,
living their life, like a daily nightmare

for some, it is the life they choose,
for others it's something they cannot refuse,
whatever maybe each one's excuse,
there is little to win and a lot to lose

you are too busy writing your own tragedy,
furtively watching a trippy censored comedy,
soulfully listening to yet another hyped up melody,
mournfully contemplating that life's just a parody

and so will your time come to pass,
doing the usual things, and following the mass,
when all this will be seen through the looking glass,
it will appear to be an unbelievable farce

of what worth is this life which is so rare,
when you don't have the time to stop and stare?
at the infinite bounty nature has to share,
and feel the rain and breathe the fresh air

Sometimes, when I wonder

shrug, sigh, wonder why
what's beyond the yonder sky,
mercury, venus, moon and mars,
countless galaxies and infinite stars

shrug, sigh, wonder why
forever thinking about who am I.
the immortal self that dwells within,
or the body clad with an aging skin

shrug, sigh, wonder why,
there is a strong desire to run and fly,
from the farthest mountains to the sea
to fulfill the purpose of being born free

shrug, sigh, wonder why?
a rekindled spirit to touch the sky,
a renewed purpose to rise and shine
with an intent to redraw the broken line

shrug, sigh, wonder why?
when cometh the day I die,
everything with a beginning has an end
except the one without a second

Will

The Will to do what is right,
The Will to take on insolent might,
The Will to stand down in a fight,
The Will to hold arms tight,
The Will to hold all equal in sight,
The Will to stay on the path of light,
The Will to get through the night,
The Will to take to flight

Spring

as the winter's frost fades away,
the temple bells herald a new day
waking nature up from its hibernation
nudging it to life with silent invocation

here approaches the king of seasons,
a time for the heart to sing without reasons,
here approaches the pleasant spring
and all shall hail the return of the king

clear blue skies adorn the new dawn
and nightingale's sing on spring's first morn
the forest is brought to stand on its feet
watching the peacock dancing to the beat

the sun shines bright with rays ever so warm
lighting up the day with its magical charm
a cool breeze blows on a moonlit night
bringing eternal joy and wondrous delight

Fire - As it is

This one is to illustrate how different people tend to perceive the nature of fire (as a personification of both good and bad)

the invisible force asked the kid, "who am I?"
and the child exclaimed, "you are the golden orb lighting up the sky"
"very true", replied the inner essence of the sun,
"i watch you playing all day and having fun"

"recognize me?", asked the invisible force of the forest fern,
and the tree yelled, "Oh No!! here comes the one that makes me burn"
said the force then, "surely, you must know, that was never my intention"
cried the tree, "whatever you might say, you bring forth my destruction"

"do u know me?", asked the invisible force of the lady of the house,
said the mistress, "you are the heat that cooks what is unripe",
"quite true", responded the invisible one,
"I help you prepare the food that everyone likes"

Everyone exclaimed in unison, "pray tell us who then are thee!"
the invisible force answered, "fire is me"
"i am to you, what you want me to be,
of my own, i have no nature"

I am the fire that lights up the funeral pyre,
I am the fire that is invoked by the holy sire,
I am the fire that burns with consequences dire,
I am the fire that fills up the heart with desire

Melancholia

the filtered day draws to a close,
and the mind goes into a tailspin morose

a deep sorrow veiled behind a smiling face,
wishing for better times, as the heart slows in pace

moments of despair follow moments of pain,
a memory of happiness is all that remains

a silent prayer in the middle of the night,
to bring back from the shadows, the source of light

a worn down spirit passes into effortless sleep,
with thoughts of tomorrow's promises to keep

a new day begins to dawn once more,
with hazy eyes staring at the empty floor