"You'll never have if you want it too bad."
And there are several ways to say it.
And yet more and more each every moment
I want it, need it, seek it, desire it.

"You're only human to want evermore."
And there are several ways to say it.
But it's not wealth, health, power or fame
Too trivial yet my heart does require it.

"Ain't nothing there like whole and complete truth."
And there are several ways to say it.
Do as best as you can and tell me why
The gun, you yourself did not fire it.

"I would have if... if I could have"

And yet I did just such a thing

Taking out that leftover taste

I eyed it with much scrutiny

To discover its bitter origins

For hours its surface I prodded

I sliced it, sectioned it, starched it

Until finally I found it

The truth albeit hit me bit hard

Like stench stronger than expected

A memory it only was

Tagged and stored "Bad, Forget it."

Twice I walked the endless road
And thrice missed out the tree
Fourth time pointed out a toad,
"Buy five, get six trees free!"

"I'll buy seven just tell me how."
I asked times eight politely
On ninth he said, "Yes but not now."
Ten more to sow yet had he!

A thousand headed monster with a million eyes
Or a gaol of stars that've fallen from the skies
Freedom to whom a mighty Comet-Hunter denies
- Just more unbelieved truths or well believed lies

Go on........
Laugh at me.
Because at one past midnight 
I'm suddenly missing you.
I'll stay up
Thinking its really you
The photo I'm looking at 
And at it I'll look all night.
Then what?
When the night ends?
The photo I'll hide somewhere 
And you, for a while, I'll forget.
Go on.........
Laugh at me.
Because at two past midnight 
I'm wishing this night never ends.

Another digup!

The clouds were veiling in the purple sky
The full moon, rising tonight bright & shy.
But light sifted this dark misty element
And outlit the many eyes of gloaming firmament.
 
Shimmered in purple gloom, a stream shallow & small
That crackled away its waters over a squat fall
Over rocks & pebbles, smooth & clean
With little rainbow trouts moving in.
 
By the stream there sat a lass
As bright as an angel, as divine as a goddess.
The light from her soul outlit the sifting moonlight.
As beautiful as a fairy, she was out in the might.
 
The water played her notes & nightingales sang the song.
The grasses swayed in wind and danced trees along.
Night-queens too fragranced the air
For the enchantress, who sat in her lair.

But she just gazed the clouds in the purple sky 
Veiling the full moon rising tonight bright & shy.
The moon came out to see her overwhelming beauty,
She flipped into a bat & vanished in the darkness of wee.

Something I wrote ages ago. (Literally!)

He went where his wobbly feet took him
Uncaring of length and directions.
Watched over by his mother with vim
With a smile and heart full of cautions.

Everyday he'd land on a shore farther
Than the day and the year previous.
Each day he'd collect a pebble smoother
To the world of shells oblivious.

But it wasn't long before he found one,
An amazingly smooth Mollusc shell.
And with it a strong inclination
To all mysteries coastal unravel.

He grew up proud and well resourced,
With worthy knowledge and collection
Best of the beach and entire shore,
Having roamed its each-every section.

Until one day a girl new in town
Found a seashell as big as a mouse.
He shattered it and buried in ground
After stealing it from her own house.

She cried for days and looked all around.
He regained his rank but not his pride.
Until one day a true mentor he found.
On a seashell-seller he relied.

He grew up to be as good as him.
And found himself wondrous relics.
He gave her a shell with an alike trim
And confessed his deed apologetic.

The little girl now tall and pretty
Smiled at him and took in hers his hand
And softly slipped him something nitty,
A small round pearl shining bright bland.

It's a magical world.
Mid January summer,
Saturday night Melbourne,
Flinders St. station crowd.

A dead escalator,
20:00 Sydenham just missed!
A broken bag strap,
And an undone shoe-lace.

The day-work fatigue,
Baking dusky heat,
With stench of smokes
And beer in air.

It's a magical world..
Babel of over 50 tongues,
Yet easily people converse.
My YPK3 on low batt.

Birds feeding on litter,
Blowies buzzing over head
In a crowd of five hundred
On platform five.

The 20:14 Sydenham
Only half an hour late.
What more could happen?
Then a dusty wind swept!

It's a magical world.
Hasty blinks, some eye-rubbing
Is all that it really takes.
A little imagination too.

A purple red horizon,
Silhouetted birds against sky,
Light mist fogging the air,
With some rosy fragrance.

The whole world is fairy lit.
The playlist's too my favourite.
But has an outta-place chime
Definitely that of your anklets.

It's a magical world.
I look for you in the mist,
What more to see I'd wish?
The 20:14 arrives smoking!

I see your bosom heave
With the growing weight inside.
I see how hard you try
To try and not look into my eyes.
You sit close and yet not lean
And make sure your feet don't touch mine.
You breathe in deep and slowly let out,
While your long loose hair softly play on my face.
And yet you so tightly clutch my hand
Ensure I, too, like this moment don't fade away soon,
And our fate, like fingers, is intertwined in each others hands.

A labyrinth of strangled thickets
Trees that've outgrown and outlived Death
Infested, held and dwelt by crickets
A legion of eyes beyond count and math

Black fog unknown murks the swampy air
Revealing only what the woods wish
The endless undergrowth plays a lair
To creatures, I'd rede to there not squish

Rather than conform and in time reveal
The darkness itself seemingly blinds you
The rustling is too a grim aeonian peal
Like grumbles of those lost here were who

But there's a place quite misplaced in there
Very quiet and brightly lit too
Some have heard there lives a dragon rare
But none have lived to tell the tale true

...

COMMENTS

The Dark Forest - 1
nan said... @ 25 March 2009 21:23
Whats cooking inside the dark forest ? :-o
Temme soon
Awaiting part 2 ;)

Sanket Rathod said... @ 25 March 2009 22:04
hee hee ...
i'm making it up as i go... but...
stay tuned!

The Dark Forest - 2
nan said... @ 26 March 2009 17:22
What an imagery !

The Dark Forest - 3
nan said... @ 26 March 2009 15:59
Like grumbles of those lost here were who..
Hmm so the story is getting better ;)
Wassup next ??

The Dark Forest - 4
nan said... @ 27 March 2009 11:49
So you are about to narrate a folklore with dragons and wizards? ;)

Sanket Rathod said... @ 27 March 2009 12:31
...maybe...
...maybe not!

pale fallen leaves
scattered long hair
autumn dry wind
off-shoulder slipped scarf
shimmering gold sunshine
hand-shaded eyes
stand still moment
a newly winged heart

What end this road shall end to?
What life this moment shall live to?
Will ever I find out I am who?
Will then I be who I want to?

The air it seems took your side too.
              Breathe unclogged will I ever be able to ?
Deter from me didn't all delight too.
              Then why can't I smile without you?

Choking me from inside, my cries,
                            Unvoiced do they reach you?
Haunting me, all my fallen sighs
                            In cold wind do they caress you?

              My words, my thoughts, what-if-s, what-not-s,
              Unto you each utterance unspoken opts,
              Alive or dead, a wish road to tread,
              And for you to eons serenade.

Seeking with shut eyes my hands,
                            Outstretched do they find you?
Murmurings mine, alone among friends
                            In sweet decay do they liven you?

Zest and vigour, doubts long outgrew.
              Part at all, did we really have to?
Walk a paved road, I never expected to.
              Sans destiny, journey, how I should?

What end and achievement , do I fight to?
Will glory outshine the pain I've been through?
Find time enough in this life will I to love you?
Or spend it seeking an answer to the WHO?

i shut my ears
and there's still that buzz
coming from but here
taunting me the 'how it wuz'

i shut my eyes
well, as if that'd help
and answer me why
i've lately still been myself

As many spare afternoons as they always had
He spent following his most favourite fad.
Talking, sitting closer than fair and necessary,
Seeking an already long acquired treasury
In her eyes.

As she talked and expressively waved,
Each little or loud clink her bangles made
Matching now and then with the ring of her laughter,
He knew he madly tried to keep up and chase after
Her rolling eyes.

He saw her pluck one bye one the rose petals
That he took great care to bring her as he pedalled.
Soon he saw something and smiled an 'It's OK' smile,
The regret of what she'd been doing all the while
In her eyes.

But one afternoon he didn't sit at all any close,
Nor did he let her pluck petals of a daisy or a rose
For he whelmed her with not one but blossoms eleven.
And with just one gesture she answered his question,
Her affirming eyes.

It is on days as such
I feel alive very much
When winds talk to me
And make me feel free

In shimmering sunlight
That shines golden white
Everthing in my view
Looks serene and new

Those scattered grey clouds
They shroud from all doubts
Both my mind and soul
Now together and whole

I had a really beautiful Sunday!

I stumbled upon a strange page
The kind you find only in modern age.
Not made of papyrus or of any wood, 
Yet call it a 'log' why (I wondered) anyone should?

In a place that, usually, a spider spins,
Where men surf without tails or fins,
They called it a blog (web + log) and it came from
A place called w-w-w dot Blogger dot com.

Well, writ on it were such strange stories
Of sadness, despair, guilt and worries
That make your heart ache and spirits fall.
But soon, like all, you bump (head first) against a wall.

You'd made a mountain out of a molehill  
And laugh out loud against your will.
A little fun is what, there, everyone seeks
And that (dear friends) is the way Nandhini speaks.

Jab. Back stab.
A sad crunch. A shocked sigh!
Yes. The perfect answer.
And oh the satisfaction!
Of colour red.
Red. Blood red.
Of smiling that wicked smile.
That satisfied smile.
At last.
Yes. A little sweat.
On forehead.
But gone with a wipe of hand.
Of colour red.
Red. Blood red.

I live this moment
   With time untied
I rejoice and celebrate
   A herald uncried

I don't chase my future
   Nor past unwind
But find that with present
   Too I unbind

I'm destined by many
   And yet unbound
A keeper and seeker
   Of knowledge unfound

I'm never lost or forgotten
   And yet unsought
A recall of reminiscences
   Of battles unfought

To the spheres of ordinary
   I'm not unkind
But in this world realised
   I live unconfined

He lives in a crimson-turquoise world

In a turquoise house with crimson doors
On Crimson Street in Turquoise Grove
Under a turquoise sky with a crimson sun
By a turquoise river with a crimson bank

Turquoise periwinkles and crimson daises
Grow inside a crimson-turquoise fence
Crimson birds with turquoise beaks
Play at the crimson-turquoise fountain

Sitting in a turquoise chair on a crimson deck
Wearing a turquoise shirt with crimson collars
Sipping crimson tea from a turquoise mug
He reads a turquoise book with a crimson cover

Through turquoise curtains to the crimson deck
Peeks a face with sleepy disheveled crimson hair
And a hand adorned with turquoise pearls
She blows him a crimson-turquoise kiss

They live in a crimson-turquoise world