Monday, 4 November 2013


Shimmering drops of red tantalized the parched soul
All it sought was a touch, a touch of agonizing ecstasy
The wine seeped so deep, intoxication gave way to salvation
Secrets got unveiled, those shrouded for infinite centuries
A priestess of love under the enchantment of opium
Held the calamus, wrote the words, words love spoke.
The parchment, its caramel tenderness, marked by red ink
Embraced the quill as it wrote about the priestess' passion,
Her soul's chant of pleasure, worldly as well as divine.
They opened the portals of creation, as inebriated souls merged
And glistening with tears the portals of the inner sanctum closed.

Sunday, 3 November 2013

November - The Story So Far

That star in the vast sky
On a cloud veiled night,
She names it after him.
Colored bottle, a parchment and ink
She writes his name again and again
And hides it beneath a mango tree,
Upon the wet sand on a rainy day
A quivering finger draws the letters
That spell his name, that spell her name.
What is life without this name, she says
That gives an identity to the soul
A soul that blends dreams with reality
A soul that breathes a bright hue into love
A soul that lives within him yet belongs to her.