But never kissed

The brooding silhouette of the Bandra seafront

Cast against the gray morning sky

Seems to talk about a night incessantly teased by rain

But never kissed.

And now it was day again.

In Kathmandu

Breathe the cool air my lovely friend, appreciate the beauty around you. 

Gather it gently in your hands as you would dewdrops of the morning, and let the nearness of the mountains surround you.

She always walks in beauty

Across cobblestones paths, amidst the infant night.

She walked in beauty, her face echoed the moonlight

She walked some more, her scent took over the night,

Her face was lit infact by her Samsung galaxy five.

I chuckled to myself, shook my head at the sight,

Today you can be beautiful and make your own moonlight.

The bookshelf

The bookshelf, it just sits there

Smiling in mahogany and the scent of varnish

Day after day, she puts her treasures in it

Tolstoy, Carroll, Austen & Hardy

The bookshelf, it just sits there

Happy with yearning and the scent of classics

Night after night, she sat against it

Drinking the words she made them her own

Her bookshelf, it just sits there

Drunk in love and the fragrance of her body.

Don't be afraid

Awake you feel the world, let it surround you.

When asleep, you are free.

Follow the night and let it hold you

Don't be afraid, because there is darkness within.

As I dream

As I dream, I find that no dream is enough. Once I achieve, I want some more. The desire in me to rise and fly grows strong. Till arrogance burns me down, and I fly again.

Call

Meet me in an old bookstore, where the scent of pages harks back to the time when people used to live what they read.

Meet me on a rough grassy path in the park, where people used to walk to breathe, where there is a scent of wilderness to keep.

Meet me on the footsteps of a rainbow dream, where the colours are from your laughter, and where you find angels in the depths of your sleep.

Meet me on a cobblestoned street, where once mighty armies marched to a beat, where bugles sounded even in retreat.

Meet me on the strains of a guitar, where the rhythm lives inside you even as it hits you from afar.

Meet me in the rhythm of a song, when they play majestic violins as they sweep over the sea, where the only ones dancing are you & me.

Meet me in a poem, where the words are woven in a symphony, of timeless desire, of poignant pain and sighs of delight.

Meet me on a piece of paper, where timeless ink has left its mark, where the music is written but the song has yet to start.