I wish to know...

I wish to know...

When I am gone, at the tip of a rope

Or the last poison drop

What do they tell about me?

Compelled by a social creed,

To speak only glory of deceased

They’ll call me all that I always wanted to be called

I wish to know...

When I am gone, after losing to hope

Struggling up to the final drop

What do they think about me?

Some not-so-close will grieve for days

Others closer shall for months

I shall then become part of the rusted records

I wish to know...

When I am gone, becoming nothing but memory

Roaming aimless and free

Will you show me my beloved ones, even if they can’t see me?

I loved them so much more than me

And that shall continue to be

But never once did they care to feel nor did they ever see!

-Shyam

For The Departed Friend

Like the wave of cold breeze

Touching the face of a weary Bedouin

You touched my arid life, like

A fountain of elixir, to give it life.

I thanked God for sending me

His choicest angel to lift my spirits.

To pull me up from deep fathom

Of dread, despondency and despair.

You became the music

That rang through the opera called my life.

You filled it with joy

And then you taught me how to smile.

Now when I have learnt to smile

And enjoy life, the way you always showed me.

You go away, far away,

Beyond the reaches of my sight.

God, it is unfair what you did

You had the trump cards, yet you cheated.

You missed your friend-the angel

So you snatched the light away from me.

Even Gods are jealous

For they crave for a friend like you.

This very divine selfishness

That has left me deserted in bereavement.

But fear not, my friend

The light that you left behind in me will never suffer

With teary eyes, I do swear

No darkness can enter my heart, where you shall live forever...

-Shyam

(7 Mar 2011)

Confessions of a Depressed Mind

None of you can understand my feelings;

Coz it’s proven that empathy eludes happy minds.

My world is entirely different from yours;

Here hope is feared and inebriation cures.

-------------------------------------------------------

I do not see any light at the end of the tunnel;

Coz mine seems to be nothing but an endless ordeal.

There are many turns and bends in my tunnel;

But no big leap can inch me closer to that medal.

---------------------------------------------------------

An expression I no longer use is the smile;

Every second I’m busy travelling hundreds of mind-miles.

My mental blocks can never fall in place;

Coz there are too many blocks and many more slots.

----------------------------------------------------------

I never managed to become a celebrity;

But every eye stares at me; every spoken word is about me.

I too was a true believer in God like you boys

Until I found that cruelty of life was immune to my choice.

------------------------------------------------------------

My story is most often found in poetry;

Coz prose can’t hold the burden of sorrow that I carry.

I know that I am wrong in whatever I state,

For I have not been right about anything off late.

---------------------------------------------------------------

But at the end of all this, a profound truth I realise;

That there is no ship that death cannot capsize.

If death is the result of every game, played however well;

Then why continue to rent my head for this devil to dwell?

----------------------------------------------------------------

-Shyam

(8.2.2011)

London Dreams

[Written by me in June 2009 when I was traveling in a London underground tube, and posted on my previous blog Now sharing it here. ]

Inspired by this booklet
I just picked up at Moorgate,

On my way to Wembley Park
Wondering how I got this spark

Did I really have the ability
To write a beautiful poetry

About this London city
At the same time being witty?

Three long weeks here I spent
A couple of days in Kent

Two different worlds they are
Although not very far

Buses and tubes are that what make
London to go without a break

Somewhere in this wonderland
I lost my way I understand

Crowds of people here and there
Am I in the middle of a fair?

I am told I am at Bank, a place
Unmistakeably London’s face

Well dressed people come and go
In black and white to and fro

Finance is the game they play with cash
All look tensed after the crash

Far away from the madding crowd
I know I have a different road.

I board a tube, the first I get
Into a paradise I can never forget

I almost get lost in my solitude deeper
Like Wordsworth’s beautiful reaper

All of a sudden the good lady spoke
Train is about to terminate bloke

I jumped out of my seat and wrote
High time to stop this quote.

Dreams...

Dream, dream and still dream,
Cuz dreams don't come at a price.
Your dreams are the reason to live yet another day,
Cuz living is an art meant not for the dumb, but for the wise!

(This poem might be continued if my brain and heart cooperate! :) )