Perhaps

Perhaps my words have crossed all barriers,

for what I feel doesn’t need any carriers,

I have grown in between my words over the years.

To be heard, I don’t need to get  loud,

I ain’t waiting here for a response from the crowd.

Just passing by like a tune on the Oud.*

*Oud- A small handheld string instrument.

 

Perhaps the world I envision is long gone,

I see no colours, only a monotone.

I know a few things which only I have known.

Everything around me has melted in one,

don’t ask me for answers, for I have none.

may be my vision is a subject for revision.

 

Perhaps I am letting too loose, or holding too tight,

crouched alone in a dark corner or shining too bright.

Trust me, without dark there is no light.

Discovering and forgetting it all again,

I am simply exploring the waters of life’s main.

No surprises, nothing hidden, I will come plain.

 

– Mayank Mishra (Sahar)

 

 

 

 

What I do ?

What I do is,
I step into a stranger’s shoes,
and walk along finding the clues.
I see, I hear and talk like him
I be him, am him, belong to him.
He may be painter, a soldier or a killer,
I have been both pious and sinner.
I see through your eye,
The same ground the same sky.
But wrought with perceptions of my own,
Things I see, to you I have shown.
Strung in the harmony of words,
I will narrate you the chirping of birds
Like crackling of galaxies, a herd of herds.
Drop the honeyed sun in the ocean
Or set upon entire worlds in motion.

What I do,
Is I speak a language,
of a universal syntax.
Please do correct me if I am lax,
I do not mean to impose,
I just don’t talk in prose.
If you are looking for patterns,
You won’t find any.
There is not one but one too many.
I simply plough in the mind field,
some times sowing ,others slashing.
Seeds in the corners of the unknown minds.
Shall they grow up to be a labyrinth ?
Or remain just seeds.
How much of what I say is true ?
It is all up to you.

What I do is,
I reflect you in my lines.
Read your life in between them,
In one I have lived many lives.
I like to shuffle between them.
Moving between you I study you.
Unknown, I live among you.
Long after I am gone and my bones are interred.
My verses shall be read, my songs sung, my poetry heard.
I shine in your dreamy eyes.
I reveal the truth behind your lies.
What I do is I read, not books.
But smile,frowns,faces and looks.

What I do is,
I bend the rules.
Even make them break them.
Sometimes I have to remake them.
My characters are real,
the scenes and my experiences.
The sights are really surreal.
A lot of wrong turns, not mere events.
In the pitch dark night.
I will describe the light
For you I will shine bright.
Is what I do !

– sahar

the featured picture is a copyright of ©Prabal Pandey , a professional photographer and traveller. you can see his photo album at https://m.flickr.com/#/photos/prabalpandey/

Nothing 

If there is nothing you can write,

write nothing.

If you there is nothing you can be,

be nothing. 

If you want nothing,

take nothing. 

The best thing there was and there will be,

Is nothing. 

I have been there..!

I was lost in deeper pursuits,

in canopied labyrinths and mountain blues

looking for life in larger pictures,

while it rested in the mildest details.

 

I was lost in luxuries and leather,

life greeted me in simplicity and feather

i have shifted names and lives

tamed spirits and stripes,

 

i have been a wonderer

neither lost or found…

rumoured a great mysteries,

formed  a million grounds

 

I have tested faith and God,

and found them dispensable

of all things that happen to us,

only we are responsible.

 

I have been to the other side,

and we are not alone.

Long after even when we are dust,

they shall never be gone.

 

 

 

  •    sahar

 

I know.

I know,

When I am writing,

What I feel.

Or is it simply to heal

A wound, an emptiness.

I know when I am writing,

for love or for lust.

I know and I must,

When I am writing.

There are eyes,

pointing everywhere.

And I am all yet none

I know I am the one

who deals in

games of persuasion.

But I am all,

that was and shall be,

because I know

when I am writing.,

the truth of the fact.

Or revealing more lies,

It all comes around

with the process of destruction

we shall reap on ourselves

and because of it.

I know I am writing,

and it all is merely a giant wheel,

and I am a tiny cog

stuck in this system of deals.