I have you

When i say black laterite rocks
people say what

When i talk of rock flowers
people gape

but what need of people have I
when i have you
formless faceless
joy
ecstasy
in the pull of strings
in noise in music
in notes
pure joy
the heart underlying my eyes
up there not down hiding
in the cage of my ribs

my heart overflows and
my eyes cry
nay,not cry
for crying is a sad thing

i do not weep ,i do not cry,my eyes just shed
their burden

in the beat of the tabla and
the clever strums of the guitar
the weeping strains of music
the heart wrenching climax
you exist
like camphor in the air
pervading my consciousness
reaching deep down to pluck
the strings in me

In the smell of the burning Plumeria
the coal and the oil
you were always there
even when i was 8
i never realised how firmly i had anchored myself in you
for what does the tree care of the soil
that holds its roots
taken for granted
your love

when i close my eyes and lose myself in you
people call it meditation
people call it hunger
i don call it anything
my union with you
does not need a name
when i fall into the dark green mantle of your lap
its like i never reach
floating..caressed by the air that carries me softly
bearing me to you
i have never experienced more happiness
i have never been more complete
or more incomplete

i wish i could freeze myself
stay in suspended life
with you forever
like a piece of music never ends
always fresh and new
like a first love
stay and be soaked
in your honey like affection
binding and sticky
i wish i didnt have to surface from your ocean
to the world of materialism and wordly practicality
i only wish i did not need oxygen
your love could feed me
nourish me
keep me alive
to experience you again and again

Amir Khusrau

Kafir-e-ishqam musalmani mara darkaar neest
Har rag-e mun taar gashta hajat-e zunnaar neest;
Az sar-e baaleen-e mun bar khez ay naadaan tabeeb
Dard mand-e ishq ra daroo bajuz deedaar neest;
Nakhuda dar kashti-e maagar nabashad go mubaash
Makhuda daareem mara nakhuda darkaar neest;
Khalq mi goyad ki Khusrau but parasti mi kunad
Aarey aarey mi kunam ba khalq mara kaar neest.

I am a pagan and a worshipper of love: the creed (of Muslims) I do not need;
Every vein of mine has become taunt like a wire,
the (Brahman’s) girdle I do not need.
Leave from my bedside, you ignorant physician!
The only cure for the patient of love is the sight of his beloved –
other than this no medicine does he need.
If there be no pilot in our boat, let there be none:
We have god idols.in our midst: the sea we do not need.

The people of the world say that Khusrau worships 
So he does, so he does; the people he does not need,
the world he does not need.

I do not know how to write of others

I do not know how to write of others
all i write of others turns into me
i do not know other people,
what complexities rule their lives

I do not know me
all i know is how to love
not man,God

I closed my eyes and stood at the very
last line of the crowd
i did not crowd to see you
for what holiness would my sinful eyes derive
from your sight
touched by sin polluted and varnished
my eyes are irreparable

i hoped God that you could see me
i hoped God that at least you would remember me
the muff with hairpins

i closed my eyes and saw you
dancing in the golden grass
with your anklets jingling rhythmically
transfixed i looked at your feet
the clever feet stepping
this way and then the next

over the black laterite rock and the rock flowers
that were wonderfully not crushed by your feet
the edakka and the chengila played
keeping beat with you

You smiled
and your face i did not see
i could feel the warmth of your smile enveloping me in its warmth

Maybe i was scared i wouldn't remember your
face
with my memory that has these holes in it

365+365 days of nothingness
of waiting for
something to happen
was i waiting all along
denying your existence for you to come and touch me

Watching your feet my Lord i was transfixed
Ecstatic
i felt a joy in me
like no other
tear heavy,i did not open my eyelids
till the drums stopped and you kissed
me goodbye

The ignominy of being ignored

Every human seeks an outlet for himself.Be it through his voice or his actions.
The ultimate aim of every individual is to distinguish himself.To reach the top of the evolutionary pyramid as the most eligible man and thus a winner in the dice game of survival....to promote himself and his progeny.

what of the ignored man? do his words his actions steep into the ground
to get dirtied by the dirty brown earth
unreciprocated unadored uncherished
forgotten like the old urns that lie dusty
used as slides by the rats and the roaches

unwanted second best
in the jungle of life
does the space he make tell him where to go
what to do

practicality kills
creativity is non existent
Juliet is the sun
the push to be productive
to do something useful with one s life is killing

For what is "being productive"
read by 9
criticised by 2 appreciated by 3
only because they love thee
ignored by 5
what is larger the rejection or the lukewarm attention

for i dont know how to attract attention
i have always walked alone
not by choice
for i would have loved it if somebody were mine
ownership
love

i dont know how to attract people
to irressistibly draw them to me
like moths to a light

i only know to walk alone in the heat with the
dust powdering my feet
dreary and tired
with worry lines and a frown
i do not know to be a girl
with admirers,graces and people eating out of
my hands