Tag Archives: journey


I time travelled
I moment moved
Through freezing fog
Through stilled air

Where dreams blend with reality
Where souls battle in serenity
In the deep of the night
In the depth of despair

I crossed the seven hills
I crossed the seven seas
Where lost souls hover endlessly
Where cursed souls wail in peril

I saw where the earth
And the heaven unite
There my journey begins

Those Reminiscences

Hey you!

A precise call from past invited his attention.

He looked at the skyscrapers from hustling present

where he made grave of his true joy deserting all will.

His reminisces travelled to where his belongings exist.

There is a black mountain in the serenity.

where he used to live far away and farther away joyously

He had a white horse and was a jockey for his pet.

He used to fly across clouds like a pro singing jingles.

He had a white palace in the black city

Where he used to live far and farther away peacefully

He designed and redesigned to test the architect in him.

The monument, where he used to have his evening drinks alone.

He had a white tomb in the black sea

Where he used to live far and farther away from all the buzz

He used to write poems that get embossed on his grave

When he read Wordsworth’s Romeo and Juliat, he chased his breath.

The white horse, the white palace, the white tomb

He searched them all, every where only in despair to find nothing

It wasn’t there? The question mark pricked! Yes! It was never there!

No! It was always there, but was on his dreams, only in his dreams!

Hey you!

The precise call from the past invited his earnest presence again.

Skyscrapers and the grave teased him in those hustling moments!

© Maaya Dev

Invain in pain is pleasure

barbed wire

On the wild road of life,
The dare devil succeed,
Not a minute to breathe not a minute to emote,
In the varied challenges of life,
Lay the answers to our growth,
The moment you give in,
It is a defeat in the battle,
Defeated a thousand times,
A barbed wire around your neck,
You struggle, bruised and you fall on the ground distressed.
Blood oozing from each part of your body,
Not a helping hand,
You gather all your might,
And pull out the barbed wire around your neck,
You scream with your vocal chord strained
And challenge time,
You walk on your path with courage,
With a belief that you have nothing to lose,
This time when you walk you have the strength of a hundred elephants
With the might and ferociousness of a lion.
You rule your life and your bruises start healing,
You see the brighter side of life
Fearing nothing, you live life like never before.
After this long journey, world watches your victory.
But, fail to see the painful journey and marks of your bruises.
All the pain that you felt has transformed to pleasure,
Invain in pain is pleasure.

© Copyright 2015 Rashmi S. Malapur All rights reserved.

The Revisiting

An old love flaunted itself in half-written letters.

An old love buried in the slippery sands of time.

An old love puffed fiercely, flashed sugary smiles,

Clenched at me tight, and loosened,

Cried in long, ragged sobs.

An old love finds me in smoke, sips of coffee and yawning.

An old love comes to visit me, his face ghostly and blurred.

I take him in and we begin to talk,

Greet each other in discreet, playful nods.

We talk in shadows and scribbling,

In warm monotones and the equation of rhetoric.

We’ve rubbed off awkward kisses, wayward fantasies

With the palm of our hands.

Our delicate, birdlike buffoonery slapped hard

By a slate of routine chores.

A scrapbook of lost words careen around the room.

My hands, stretch out to him in stray lines

Azure blue, green, purple shades of calf love.

Keystrokes of a lost harmony, fading, resounding,

Crossing paths in a dim, complicated dream,

Melting, wafting, diminishing again.

An old love is a long smear on my whiteboard face,

In twilight memories, summons me

In anonymous blinks and glittering.

I watch him from afar, lanky, white-haired and lost,

Leave the room with the faint odor of our used up days.


Lopa Banerjee. October 23, 2014



The red, green, yellow street signs flash at me.

With trembling hands, I honk, whisk.

The faint neon lights of the city flicker and blaze.

I am steering my way to the rhythm and pace of vehicles

Moving sideways, up, down and center.

I am using the break incessantly,

Cursing every twisted move I make,

Every street sign I am unable to follow,

Every wrong turn I end up with.


I am riding, in bumps and bolts,

While the neon lights, the streets fly past me

In synchronized movements, cooked with frenzy and oblivion.

In the blinding maze of uncertain miles,

Wild bugs screech inside my stomach

Make cracking movements, as my legs race up the accelerator.

I am shoving the car, its wheels and our bodies

Into the city’s farthest boundaries, mapping each road,

Each turn, each exit, rolling and stuffing them in my pockets,

The wheels crushing footprints like dismantled crumbs.


I am chewing my pie slices of proximity,

Hatching the intrigue of flying distant realms

While the city calls me out in broken syllables.

I have a splintered grin, wave at the hoisted hands,

At the outstretched fingers, the harmonic choir.

The streets are winding and long,

Embracing highways and horizons under abstract skies.

I weigh out my latitudes and longitudes of leaving.

The default settings of my memories,

They concede with the journey.

I collect them, stuff them in cardboard boxes,

Push them to the boundaries of nowhere.


I am shoving the car in the dead end of the city.

Shattered, in splinters and shards.

Down the quiet, grey streets, I drive like an old ghost,

In the break of dawn, flashlights blink like omens.

Lopa Banerjee. October 20, 2014




Life is …

Life is …

Life is a journey,
Towards the infinite turned inward
Life is a mystery,
Resolved forever, realizing the Divine.

Life is a song,
‘Tis sung in the infinite musical notes
Life is a blessing,
Surrendered at the Lotus Feet of the Divine.(1)

Life is a lesson,
Turned into wisdom by the righteous deeds
Life is an emerged wave,
Merged back into the immortal ocean of bliss. (2)

– by Sridhar

(1) A Divine Master like AMMA
(2) Dissolving one’s self in the Supreme Self through meditation, keerthana etc …  i.e., AMMA