Ungettable

It is a thing I can never get,
It is something I shouldn't want.
That it is not mine is sure,
That it is not supposed to be, obvious.

But today, I felt sad.
Felt bad to feel sad.
Sad because I did not get it.
Bad because it should't have mattered.

It was inconsequential,
or so I had thought.
But every time I see it,
it reminds me I am a failure.

A failure -
for hoping that in some world
I do not desire it,
as I do madly in this.

Or that in some world
it exists not, to be desired madly.
Or better still, that in some world,
I have it, to be owned, to get owned.

-TheDreamer

Guilty

Doesn't matter what I do,
No matter what I say.
Whoever I say it to,
for at the end of the day-

I'm wrong,
I'm faulty.
A criminal,
I'm guilty.

Am broken, to be fixed.
I can be, but am not.
Most wanted for what I did,
yet wanted, am not.

What could I have done?
Often I ask aloud.
Off with his head,
Is all I hear them shout.

Forever in their eyes,
guilty I'll remain.
They want a price,
for their suffering, my pain.

My life, they may take,
my body, they may burn.
But no matter what they say,
my conscience,
they can never take away.

(We might declare someone guilty. But he is not guilty till he feels guilty. Hanging him changes nothing at all.)

-TheDreamer

हरि पाहुनी वरती

( One of my very first poems in Marathi.

 Editing courtesy: Ms. Neha Patil )

हरी  पाहुनी  वरती ,

विचारतो  रागाने -

अश्रू  थांबवूनी  डोळ्यातले ,

आकाशी  ओरडतो  जोराने .

                        कां  केले  असे ?

                        असे  करून  काय  मिळाले ?

स्वतःच्या  स्वार्था  साठी ,

कां  बनवलीस  ही  सृष्टी .

आणि  मन  भरल्यावर  तिच्याने ,

वाळीत  अशी  कां  टाकलीस .

                        तू  दुःख  कां  बनविले ,

                        कां  घडविला  विनाश .

                        जर  मृत्यू  द्यायचाच  होता  शेवटी ,

                        तर  कां  आनंद  पस्रविलास .

अपराध  निर्माता  रे  तू ,

किती  मोठा  अपराधी !

वेदना  देतांना  तुला ,

काहीच  वाटले  का  नाही .

                        जग  बनवणाऱ्याला ,

                        ह्या  जगात  शिक्षा  नाही .

                        आणि  ज्यांना  शिक्षा  होत  आहे ,

                        त्यांची  काही  चूकच  नाही .

बोल  हरी  बोल !

गप्प  कां  राहिलास ?

हे  कसं  जग  बनवलस ?

न्याय  कुठला  हा  पाळलास .

                        उत्तर  काही  न  येता ,

                        थांबले  नाही  अश्रू  आता .

                        हरी  बोलला  स्वतःशी -

                        झाली  चूक ,  घडला  गुनाह .

पण  दुःख  ह्याचे  जास्त  वाटते ,

कि  डोळे  उघडले  आता .

चूक  कळाली  मला ,

पण  उशीर  फार  झाला .

                        आता  माझ्या  खांद्यांवरच्या ,

                        माझ्या  ह्या  दोषांचे  भार,

                        अनंत  काळा  साठी ,

                        मी  एकटाच  उचलणार , 

                        एकटाच  उचलणार ...

-TheDreamer

Part 3: Love is Immortal

(Dedicated to myself, as a reminder of the immortality of Love.)

He had been betrayed,
His life needed to end.
For how could he live much longer,
With the pain he had suffered,
At the hands of a heart so cold.

All he wanted now,
Was to see her one last time.
Tell her that he would not spread the pollen.
That he would rather die,
Than help her kind multiply.

And so he went to meet her.
But once there, he was shocked and despaired.
She had withered black,
Her colors lost, her petals fallen.
She lay before him, dead.

She had withered that morning,
He'd been too late in coming.
He sat there weeping for their souls.
Hers for having tricked him into love,
And his for having let her die alone.

But now that she was dead,
Nothing mattered anymore.
His hatred melted away,
Withered away like her petals.
His complaints eloped with her laughter.

And all that remained,
Was a lonely beetle,
With precious memories of love.
Love that she had given him,
But could give him no more.

Now only two stood there weeping,
Atop her shriveled remains.
Love and He.
And Love said to him,
Seeing how he had lost all hope.

Do you truly believe,
That love can be faked?
That someone's heart could be that cruel?
You have listened to fear and that was your biggest mistake.
For he will tell you bitter truths that'll get you nowhere.

Listen to my tales instead,
Though the world may insist,
That they be lies,
That they be twisted,
Atleast they won't kill you with their bitterness.

She used you, it's true.
But that she loved you,
Is a greater truth.
She did what she did,
Only because she had to.

She had no choice.
But you are different.
You have a one.
You may forget her,
curse her, or end your life.

Or you may instead,
Forgive her crimes,
And listen to your heart,
To do what may be difficult,
But more importantly, what may be right.

He wept a lot, but in the end, took Her advice.
He had known what true love was,
How it had changed his life.
And now he wished for the world to know,
To know that love divine.

He went around the jungle,
Out to its far reaches,
And spread her pollen,
Wherever he could.
Till he had exhausted all that he had.

Months passed,
And he lived on.
He lived only for her,
Tending the buds that had appeared,
On plants he had pollenized.

He gave them his love and care.
And he laughed at Love.
She had thought he had a choice.
But did he really?
Could he, when he was in love?

He had decided to wait only till next spring,
Once the flowers bloomed,
He would have done his duty.
He would not have let beauty die.
And then, he would be free.

Spring came and the flowers bloomed.
And he was reminded of her scent.
For the entire jungle,
Carried her fragrance now.
The jungle, filled with her joy and radiance.

And then he heard it,
The sound of her laughter.
The sound he had craved, for so long, unknowing.
Could it be possible.
After he'd lost all hope?

He rushed to the sound, and true enough,
There stood his sweet maiden.
More beautiful than ever,
Gracefully waiting,
Awaiting his return.

He realized then the power of Love.
Her power to change lives.
He knew not if She was a thief.
He knew not if She had planned this all along.
Or if his story was but a twist of of fate.

He knew not how his maiden,
Had come back to life.
He knew not what would happen now,
For how long she was alive.
He knew not if Love had cheated him.
He knew not if She had lied.
All he knew for sure,
Was that Love had never died.

-TheDreamer

Part 2: Love is a Cheat

(Dedicated to my dear friend, Vivek Pareek as a reminder that people do things that they have to, but they are not the evil to have done so.)

He approached her,

Unsure, even scared,

His feelings,

Suppressed no more.

His self, for her laid bare.

However shy she was,

She did not resist.

She let him come near,

She let him love her.

She submitted to him.

And they became one.

Consumed in their love for each other.

He shared his soul with her.

His dreams, his joys, his passions,

Became one with her laughter.

And soon she knew

All there was to know,

About a simple black beetle.

And his small world,

Which now revolved around her.

Yet try as he may,

She never told him of herself.

Never spoke of her dreams,

Her plans.

She just liked to listen.

Whenever he asked her,

All she said was that she loved him,

And that that should be enough.

If asked more,

She would just become silent.

So he never troubled her,

With these unpleasant questions.

He was too lost in his happiness,

Too lost in their future.

To notice if anything was amiss.

And it broke his heart,

To leave her each night.

To bid adieu and watch her from afar,

As she curled up her petals and slept,

Bathed in magical starlight.

He would retire to sleep thereafter,

Dreaming of her,

Deep into the happy night.

Asking himself how he was worthy,

Of knowing such love divine.

He slept, only to be welcomed each morning,

By her charming smile.

And spending the day by her side,

Talking to her of all things

That came to his mind.

But that particular day was different,

She seemed so sad.

And he didn't like that.

So he decided to make her happy,

He decided to show her how much he loved.

He showed it by making it.

And he gave her all the joys,

That he could offer.

And it made her happy,

The happiest of all creatures.

That night the adieu,

was more painful than ever.

She bid him farewell,

With tears in her eyes,

tears both of joy and sorrow.

The next morning the beetle awoke,

Only to find his back covered,

By the sticky pollen that she'd secreted.

What was it he wondered?

And why wouldn't it come off his back?

And Fear came to him,

And told him how he had been taken,

By the charms of that innocent-looking lady.

He said that this is what she did,

She tricked unsuspecting beetles.

She had used him, his love,

Had trapped him into making love to her.

And smeared him with her pollen,

Contaminating his pure heart.

All this for her own wicked schemes and plots.

He said she had faked her love,

Only to draw him near.

She had used him for her own good.

And he would never love again,

As no one ever should.

He did not want to believe Him.

Yet he did.

Yet never thought it possible to hate her.

Still he did.

He never thought Love would cheat him.

But in the end, She did.

-TheDreamer

Part 1: Love is a Thief

(Dedicated to my dear friend, Mohit Pandey as a reminder that no one has ever been a loser for trying to get something out of his league.)

He had fallen in love.

He, a big black beetle,

She, the most beautiful of creatures.

Tall and lonely,

with colors bright as the morning sunshine,

And a sweet scent divine.

Her petals open -

Charming, but not seductive,

Her pollen-filled center -

A heart to be discovered and loved

Yet open to only him who could win her.

For she was a lady,

And would make no stray talk.

She would just stand,

A lonely beauty,

Waiting all by herself, just waiting.

The beetle had loved her,

From the day he'd set his eyes,

Upon that transcendental face.

Yet he had seen her only from afar.

Never daring an approach.

He was still an adolescent,

He had no experience.

At wooing a girl,

let alone one,

of such grand beauty.

But he was glad it was so.

For he wished to love,

Just one, just once.

Forever.

And it had to be her.

He was too scared of rejection.

For he was big,

black and awkward.

While she was mystical maiden,

Her fresh colors mirroring her laughter.

What had he to offer?

Why would she love him?

She would never accept it.

What was the point in trying?

When he knew it was to be an imminent failure.

But Love came to him,

And She told him to tell her.

Tell her his heart's true yearnings.

His love, his desires,

And to not give in to fear.

She said she would understand,

She would be glad.

To be with someone like him.

She said beauty wasn't enough for happiness,

That she was lonely.

He was still not convinced.

He could not dare to be.

But how long could he resist?

How could he win?

How could he triumph against Love?

Especially when all he wanted was to lose,

To lose it all to Love,

His heart, his self, himself.

So he gave in,

and followed Her path.

He told her that he loved her,

And that he always would.

He said his life had no meaning without her.

And he could offer her more love,

Than anyone else in this world could.

She listened to this,

And to his unbelieving joy,

She accepted happily!

She swayed in the wind,

Overcome with emotions.

She said she had always been lonely,

But now all her dreams had come true.

That she couldn't ask for anything better.

And that she would love him equally,

in return, if not more.

His joy knew no bounds,

And he became one with her,

In the end, thus, Love triumphed.

And that's why Love is a thief.

For he might have stolen his love,

But She had, his heart.

-TheDreamer

The Smell of Heaven

(What would heaven smell like?)

I kept it near my nose,

and took in a deep breath.

The breath filled my lungs,

the aroma, my consciousness.

I never wished to exhale,

lest I waste the smell.

I wished not to live,

lest I had to ever breathe again.

I wished not to breathe,

'coz I knew this would end.

The aroma would fade,

the feeling would pass.

Only I would remain,

forever suspended in the memory.

Of a sweet smell that was,

but was not meant to last.

I wished my heart would stop,

I couldn't ask for more.

I'd smelt heaven while I lived,

I feared hell no more.

-TheDreamer

For Dreams I felt Dearer

I loved you once,
but I love you no more.
I miss you but,
with my heart's very core.

When illness befalls,
I miss you even more.
Crying deep into the night,
my eyes turn sore.

I miss you my Love,
your love I miss.
Your love I loved,
my dream of eternal bliss.

I dreamed of you love,
yet the love was not dreamt up.
It was all for real,
but for dreams I gave up.

God save my soul,
that I chose to desert her.
That dearest of loves,
for dreams I felt dearer.

Put me to sleep,
rest my head on your shoulder.
Weep for my soul,
while I die, getting colder and colder.

-TheDreamer

(This poem came to me at midnight yesterday. The lines came to me very fast, and I had to hurry and grab a pen, to write it down, lest it be lost.


Often, on the path of his dreams, one has to leave behind his loved ones. One has to tread alone. The ones left behind may forgive us, because they love us. Yet they are never forgotten. Our mind, our conscience, never lets us.)

Zombies

I can see zombies.
You don't believe me?
I really can see the walking dead
as they walk beside me.

Without dreams, without morals.
Eyes fixed in an endless stare
Opening their foul mouths,
of their stench of fear unaware.

Saying things that make no sense.
Walking aimlessly, endlessly.
Waiting for their lives to end.
Not understanding they are dead already,
they roam, Zombies all around me.

-TheDreamer

(Life really has a cruel sense of humour. It so happened that hours after writing this poem, by pure happenstance and out of sheer boredom, I randomly picked a movie to watch. That movie turned out to be Shaun of the Dead. After seeing it, I wish I hadn't written this poem!)

One Battle at a Time

I'm ready to fight,
in the war of life.
To find freedom and glory,
through struggle and strife.

I'm ready to sacrifice,
everything for that dream.
To churn my fate,
till I make butter out of cream.

But to give my all,
to that one fight,
all I ask from this world,
in the form of this rhyme-
Allow me to fight,
one battle at a time,
only one battle at a time.

-TheDreamer

The Sole Diamond

(Should a man leave behind his addictions? Habits that give him joy? Yes he'll be free. But what will he do of that freedom if he cannot be happy?)

He owned a stone.
It was a red diamond.
It was larger than any diamond in the land.
It was blood red in colour.
Diamonds are clourlessin when pure.
But this diamond was red.
A big, red diamond it was.
He loved the diamond.
Light sparkled through its many facets.
Creating an aura around it.
The aura was something.
It was something that could not be described.
The aura of the diamond was quite something.
He loved the aura.
He loved the diamond.
Its brilliance was beautiful.
Its beauty was radiant.
He cared for the diamond.
He carried it with him.
He never let it out of his sight.
He never let anyone see it.
He never let anyone touch it.
He touched it.
He caressed it.
He kissed it.
He loved it.
He took it everywhere.
He was in love with it.
He could not live without it.
He was addicted to it.
He loved it so much.
The diamond was his life.
And he decided to give it his life.
The diamond gave him joy.
The diamond gave him fulfilment.
He too gave to the diamond.
He gave it his soul.
He gave it his life.
He cast a spell.
His soul escaped him.
It was trapped in the stone.
He put it there.
His soul in his stone.
His life in his diamond.
His joy in his precious.
His everything in that something.
The bond was thus strengthened.
He fell in deeper love.
The stone was his world.
It lit his dark and twisted soulless insides.
He depended on it.
To be by his side.
To sustain his existence.
To exist for his sake.
And for his sake alone.
He never felt alone.
With the diamond close by.
He loved it so much.
He loved it a lot.
He loved it.
He was addicted to it.
He could never take his eyes away.
Off the diamond for an instant.
He was scared.
Scared that something would happen.
The diamond would go.
So he kept himself near it.
He kept himself close.
He kept himself bound.
And in time, he was bound.
He was so bound, he hated it.
His hate drew him mad.
He had no freedom.
And in his hate he loved his diamond.
He loved it as never before.
The diamond that had his soul.
He was done with it.
He could take it no more.
He could give it no more.
Nothing was like before.
He raised it high.
And smashd it on the floor.
It shattered.
It broke.
It split into a million pieces all sparkling on the floor.
He had ended the stone.
The stone was over.
The stone which had his soul.
The soul was over.
The game was up.
He had destroyed the stone.
And yet, he was sad.
He was unhappy.
He had ended hs addition.
He was free now.
But he had also ended his only joy.
He was sad too.
He was free too.
He was free to be sad.
Sad forever after.
His everything gone.
Destroyed, shattered to pieces.
Broken to splinters.
And he wept sitting there.
Crying on the floor.
He wept like a baby.
'Cause from what he knew.
Diamonds never broke.
No diamond ever broke.

-TheDreamer

The Demons Inside Me

There are demons inside me,
tearing up my insides,
splitting me apart,
leaving me undecided on my choices in life.

There are demons inside me,
they are numerous and strong,
my past, present, and my future
along with my love, anger, hate pain, right and wrong.

There are demons inside me,
each one a war on its own,
i either survive or perish,
coz it's a battle that i have to fight alone.

There are demons inside me,
and each day the fight goes on,
it may be exhausting,
but i'll still defend my dreams,
my happiness, my choices, my life itself,
till all these demons are gone.

--TheDreamer