Friday, September 14, 2007

Now I Feel…

Oh I were a rockstar then, of Bryan Adam’s sort-
Didn’t bother much whether I had a guitar or not
Nor ever cared for background melody-
Why should have I cared when my virtual stage was ready-
My voice had no job as my mind was performer,
It was the guitarist itself managing bass, saxophone
What more could I expect from this versatile singer!
This mind was my hero then, my warden too
Steering the boy in me through all red and blue –
Air was so full of essence then like never before
Stars kissing my head, moon luring for fantasy tour-
Was I achieving freedom from boyhood bondage
Or utilizing those golden pieces of time to my advantage?
Today its no more a world of ‘twinkle twinkle little star’
My stage has vanished throwing me to world so blur!
More I try to simplify the space around me, it gets smoky
Obstructing those rhythms which had moved me so far-
Many says it’s a bigger stage, so do perform at your best
How can they sense-the player in me has opted for rest;

I walk over stony streets like a guy with crutches
The green land in me has tuned into beaches,
So close to sea- it has no reason to be parched
Waves hug the shore million times, still full of earth.
I’ve lost my balance, my limbs are throbbing
The ground so frail, as if rocks below me are breaking.
Is this a virtual occurrence giving me a false intuition-
Or I’m undergoing a transitory figment of imagination;
I keep thinking about my suspicion all day and dark
Who is my teacher now who can give me a feedback;
My mind is dynamic perhaps like an obedient child –
Taking up a number of responsibilities & turning a blind-
What’s the use of its curious, sensitive azure eyes
Where it toils like a slave in the world of filthy lies;
No beauty to gaze just about, no color to praise
I’m an odd man here, deserved to be out of this grease.;
Am I a marine life rolling over sunny warm sand-
Or I’m a cub isolated from its mother in its first month?
I suffer an era of shilly-shallying-

I’m a prudent chap now, now here I’m not dying.
Not crying over the melodies which tempted me flying-
I look the world now through a different pair of specs
Bind my mind tight with thousand steel braces;
Those rainbow whims don’t rock my wits anymore,
I’m getting matured now, may be core turning impure-
I accept what comes to me irrespective of its spectrum
What else can I do, to my yellow days I can never return.
I know life is thorny, life is rigid, life is yank
Life is the name of motion, navigation of unseen dark-
My wheels are set, my fuel is full & have the map as well
I can dive into ocean, cross the roads and pass along rail.
My boundary has widened, my horizon has broadened
Still shiny pleasing reminiscence swivel like a pendant;
I sit with an ocean of memories perched in my eyes
Mist of tear fills my sight-I miss those schooldays!



-littleWriter

1 comment:

  1. Nice poem... i guess you must have had a great school life and so now you have some nice moments to cherish...
    great...

    ReplyDelete

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