Trespassing
on Paradise
Only
monster presumes
It is his birthright to invade full-on,
but Paradise, like Onyx, does not give in.
Wherever we go
we carry them -
the monster and paradise-
like a pair of parakeets;
two sovereign states of black and white-
with us.
There
are no sober words
in monster’s dictionary; you can realise it
while reading newspaper, listening to radio,
watching TV or browsing social media.
Everything deteriorates with the passing of time.
The
domain of the statuesque paradise is squeezing
day after day and the monster believes in expansionism.
There is only one remedy left to block its road:
Burning the effigy of hatred and inviting
simulacrum of love.
Be
assured,
the Paradise is not tired of upholding the tenderness
as done earlier and tearing the curtain of fog in the wee hours
after comforting us by the lullaby of truth.
Night
It’s
night
That turned two curved bodies
Into melancholic waves
It’s
night
That returned the silence
It’s lost alphabets.
It’s
night
That presented hills and oceans
Their own republic.
It’s
night
That built an asphalt thoroughfare
Towards the moon.
It’s
the night
That added a few ounces of darkness
To lover’s wine.
It’s
night
That swings like a pendulum
In the lap of time.
Today
Today is a special day.
Bees will come out of their hives
much before the usual time,
and drone a little louder than ever.
Flowers will nod their
beaks
more frequently in the garden,
and gardener will be more
absent-minded than before,
while tending the garden.
Newspapers, social media
and cell phones will struggle vociferously,
to keep their clients awfully busy.
TV panels will again
serve data,
proving the panicking growth rates,
on rapes, disappearances, honour-killings, etc.
And blame the government for its failure.
The department concerned
of the government
will blare the
same record it had played last year,
without editing the philosophical content.
Today is absolutely a
great day,
as it arrived after yesterday,
and reached before tomorrow.
It is his birthright to invade full-on,
but Paradise, like Onyx, does not give in.
Wherever we go
we carry them -
the monster and paradise-
like a pair of parakeets;
two sovereign states of black and white-
with us.
in monster’s dictionary; you can realise it
while reading newspaper, listening to radio,
watching TV or browsing social media.
Everything deteriorates with the passing of time.
day after day and the monster believes in expansionism.
There is only one remedy left to block its road:
Burning the effigy of hatred and inviting
simulacrum of love.
the Paradise is not tired of upholding the tenderness
as done earlier and tearing the curtain of fog in the wee hours
after comforting us by the lullaby of truth.
That turned two curved bodies
Into melancholic waves
That returned the silence
It’s lost alphabets.
That presented hills and oceans
Their own republic.
That built an asphalt thoroughfare
Towards the moon.
That added a few ounces of darkness
To lover’s wine.
That swings like a pendulum
In the lap of time.
Bees will come out of their hives
much before the usual time,
and drone a little louder than ever.
more frequently in the garden,
and gardener will be more
absent-minded than before,
while tending the garden.
and cell phones will struggle vociferously,
to keep their clients awfully busy.
proving the panicking growth rates,
on rapes, disappearances, honour-killings, etc.
And blame the government for its failure.
will blare the
same record it had played last year,
without editing the philosophical content.
as it arrived after yesterday,
and reached before tomorrow.