The Kiss

A scene
a pseudo-scene

In that bareness, no sex reflects
has given a more in memory.
a reality-
what means love in parting?
a pair- naked, unwrapped and shameless.
and dissolved in that tangibility?
but behold!
he's giving and taking

He is taking and giving

Here, the love is felt, seen and touched.
The great kiss of Rodin.

the unseen by the seer
who has failed to see,
the unwritten by the writer
who has failed to write.
there, love is
never crushing into pieces
the totality is pleasure, eternity.
there an experience is-
of his and her existence.
a life experience,
of closing in and pining away
as if
fallen from somewhere.
at present- pastless and futureless.

Birthless, deathless
a moment
Hurray! Hurray!!
The great kiss of Rodin

nakedness- vague
graveness- inconstant
mystery- open
breasts are,
buns are
why unseen?
in great amount consistence is- seen
will they part?
no last it is
no beginning here
no end here
just a glance
never dying
this is really great kiss
the great kiss of Rodin.

Death

Always in hurry Like in the race for the unlimited But none is alone Alone is none Invisible, He, who is the Omnipotent Capable of outsmarting us in a jiffy But never over running us As if waylaying our indulgences  Or how we react when ditched by lovers In lacerating loneliness When there is no time Where there is a lot of time To live and die In anguish In blissful moments Like a true friend, He hems us in Is not He the best Is not He the worst Ever chasing us?

The He was Absent

The wind blew violently
but not heard,

Smoke drifted,

Gunpowder fell on thy shoulders

We coveted for an isolated death

Everything , though overshadowed

The desire, the lust, the hunger

Against the rattling guns

Against the going off bombs

What a sound !

Rat..rat..rat..rat..rata..bang!
Rat..rat..rat..rat..rata..bang!

The eagles hovered around lewdly
in the night of deserty whirls

And the Creators fell on ground
The worshipers died hard

The snow froze the blood

Breaths, devoured by black air

Suddenly the air had a color

But the sound did not cease

Rat..rat..rat..rat..rata..bang!
Rat..rat..rat..rat..rata..bang!

We prayed all night long, but to no avail

Crying to dip into our own tears

You always asked – where is my daddy?

Where is my creator?

But the Creator was dead

The god absent

against the deadening sound

as we continually heard

Rat..rat..rat..rat..rata..bang!
Rat..rat..rat..rat..rata..bang!

The unspoiled

In your face, I saw a canvas-

embroidered and flashy,

fetching and ugly

the beholder in me, amazed at a sight variation!
in a counterfeiting reality.
yet I loved you,
for there was no one else to love in that desert,

for I respected Tolstoy

for I needed a world to live in

What deceived me?

suddenly you were Venus
your eyes, two moons-
sifting and poring over
hypnotizing, capable of abrading the variation
You were a beauty.

Does sense still play in the hypnotism?

If not, why I wanted you intact, unbruised

How come the humbleness, deftness!

Why didn’t I dip into you?

Why did I stare you into eternity?

Love Has It

Dear Readers,
I am starting to share the sort of love affairs I had. The sense of loneliness might have lost, had I not written it in the diaries. Luckily, as I was cleaning up the trash, I encountered the frayed diaries, more than twenty in numbers. I read through them. It felt as if I was reliving an once-upon-a-time lovelorn Sandesh while my love was sleeping beside me. The situation has not changed much. The politics was all over life then, and it still is. There are people chanting slogans, which have more or less changed. Earlier, people wanted federalism, now they want ethnicity.
Ironically, the so-called leaders evoked them, telling them that you deserved a space. It is not bad though. What is bad, I think, is if they do what they are doing. Or if they are being pawns in the hands of the leaders, who might side the one which will provide them with a portfolio. Wow!
While I am writing, I am also managing to peep out of the window. There are a few people who call themselves adibasi, janajatis who are scaring the wits out of the poor people.

I was talking about love which was there, which is here. I was talking about the desolation, the stuffiness which still is. But there is the disparity of the sense and living through. But the states are important as both of them throttle me.

Now, I am going to write the first diary that I wrote dedicated to my fairy, the Fuchi who pulled down all the barriers to come to me, who funnily eloped. Do you believe it!
I didn't know we were running away. I had come home, fazed and rigid when I found her waiting for at at the door of that dingy room. What a pleasant surprise!
"Let's run away," she said as she hugged me.
That was what I had wanted since I met her. But was I capable of running off? With five thousands of rupees? Leaving the job I had recently landed!
"Yes," I said, staring at her as if I was trying to plead with her.
"It is unbearable there. You are all I have. I want to go away from those fuckers."
"Is it mother or father?"
"Both."
It was going to be a hard decision. I made it. I'm glad to have made that decision as I see my wife shifting by my side. Did I tell you that we are expecting a baby?
 Wow! I still say I am glad that I decided on five thousands because I always believed and still do
Love is not about dying together
Love is about living together

No matter what!