Fluctuations

Fluctuations

Life has been fluctuating

Win, obstacle, win, obstacle, win

Friends pivot from one trajectory to another

Relationships that undergo constant recalibration

Because boundaries shift and priorities change

Just as I can’t control when the flowers bloom, or when the sky clears

I know I can’t control people - they constitute the turbulence of life 

As i navigate the chatter in the day and the solitude of the night

I prepare for the greatest anticlimax - an underwhelming farewell

Not just to friends, but to a skin, shedded

And to a reality that remains only in fragmented dreams

Bitttersweet.

Bittersweet.

It lies not in the wistful glimmer of the thread-like moon,

But in noticing when it dulls and when it brightens, 

And realising it no longer shines to you.

The withering breeze chills and dampens,

The wafting fragrance warms and sweetens.

Knowing that light need not shine through me to reach you,

I celebrate in the lonely darkness, 

As I grieve under the gentle glow.

Bittersweet.

Londonstan

I'm in Central London. 

What is this Central Asian hospitality?

A friend invites me,

With tea, sweet delicacy,

Conversation running,

Clear as the Kyrgyz rivers.

A friend invites me, 

With a chase, a climb,

Autumn leaves blazing,

Bright as the red Alay valleys.

A friend invites me, 

To thoughts where wills diverge.

Contemplative pauses,

Lead to the Beshariq canopy.

Granite Rock

My heart was hard granite rock.

Rigid, unmoving. 

Yet how has it now been filled with life?

The robin chirps of a glacier millennia past,

that carved lakes that shimmer,

and rocks that sparkle,

that nourished the tiniest cracks,

from which pine trees sprout.

But where are you now?

Where are you? 

All the remains is the love you created,

And the occasional snow,

That bears some semblance

Breeze

All it took was a gentle breeze to cause a stirring 

Rippling waves of the ocean rise and fall

Sometimes fiercely, sometimes calmly

Yet in perpetual motion

All it took were a few steps in the direction of the breeze

Following what that belongs to the world

Before I halt, laughing at myself

Yet unable to look away

And all it takes is laughter to remind me of the breeze!

Swallowing the ocean droplets that emerge

I dance to keep on moving

Before realising - I’m creating my own breeze!

Fallen Sakura Petals

 Who can possibly fail to be drawn to the soft allure of the Sakura trees? In every moment spent observing the falling pinkish petals dance amidst the gentle breeze, I experience a brief eternity. 

To follow your heart, they say, is easy. But what can you do, if your heart consists of all these falling petals that move in erratic directions at the same moment? Which petal do I follow? If only every single petal could be commanded to fall in the exact same way! 

Yet paying attention to the clumps of fallen petals beside my feet, I am reminded - the dust is bound to settle; none escapes gravity.

 I can’t bear seeing these petals remain scattered, so I collect them in my dreams. In a drawer that shall never be locked but remains closed for now, they occupy a special spot - in which they shall never wither.

Three Thousand

It ended before it even started!
It ended before it even started!
Before a fledgling could even flutter
Before a foal could even stutter
Before an idea could be conceived
Or a dream could be believed
Three thousand were washed by the torrent
Is this what justness can warrant?

It ended because it started!

It ended because it started!

Because that fool stole my song

Because no man could do me wrong

Because walls could keep a mind shut

And darkness could creep into a heart

Three thousand shall be the price to pay

It shall be a number I use to dismay!