A response

It is the words that bring us together.

It is the words that let our feelings grow.

It is time then to leave the words,

And let the feeling overwhelm us.

For if you bring back words,

You bring back distances

Love is lost in the tussle

Between words and feelings.

A lost Love Letter

How difficult it is to write any more,
When words are robbed of their meaning,
Some overused, some stale and
Yet others bandied and branded by the hypocrites

How difficult it is to write in images,
When the corns are grey with a farmer’s grief
When streets are filled with smoke and dust
And a naked child dying in hunger

How difficult it is to look at the sky
With high rises clawing at the sky
Sucking the blood of those millions beneath
A dusky world filled with murky nails that entail us.

How difficult it is to watch a cricket match and a movie
When/where money fumes up like sky scrapers
The fashionable world has a fashionable morality
Some entertain and some feed you

But those who feed you, die

Did you ask me
To express my love in such a time,
In such words, such images
I couldn’t but stare at you

Blankly

And you thought I couldn’t express my love.

Ektu Adda

Adda

When You Feel a Little Lonely,

With the Expanse of the Sky Staring at You

And the Evening breeze smoothing away the wrinkles

of the tedius morning. Or when

A pretty girl holding somebody else's hands.

A little boy jumping with a pleasure that can never be yours.

When another's cigar is making all the smoke

Dont Feel hopeless or be Cramped for Space

Have a litle adda, with anybody

over a cup of tea

in some shady hunt

with plastic bags rolling around

and the blare of the honking traffic

Dont you care

Just go on chatting.

Make yourself heard, although nobody is hearing

Or be angry and have a fight,

be creative or contemplative

or wage war against politics and grocery.

Just show that you are still living

Only through a little Adda