Sunday, October 10, 2021

 If I only had a brain

 

Oh America!

Where

My talent could dive in the valley of silicon prototypes

 

Where

My sweat could rain buckets of presidents embossed in green

 

Where

 My inventions could shake hands with the elite creating frankensteins

 

If I only had a brain

I would never understand my country’s pain

 

Another Brain Drain!

 

Amit Saraf

Tuesday, October 05, 2021

 Time to Heal


Listening to the crescendo

Much above the confining wall

Thoughts raced like an inferno

Ready for the final call


I kept plucking petals

She loves me 

She loves me not


Her grin was wry

She smiled her goodbye

She had resolved 

We were now dissolved


She hastened to a trot

After signing on the dot

Her tear streaked cheeks

Betrayed her entangled knot


My heart danced

She loves me 

Time will reveal

Both now need to heal


Amit Saraf

Sound of Silence


Broken cups

Bruised lips

Mocking lovers

Haunting past

Justice erred

Silence


Spiritual flights

Intimate journeys

Healing selves 

Transcendence

Equanimity

Silence


Amit Saraf

Meghalaya Contours


My abode amidst nurturing clouds

Satiates ambitious undertones

Green waterfalls drench fertile rocks

Aromatic sunlight bathes shimmering lakes

Pure air amplifies whispered sonnets

Quiet meditative walks adorn contemplative reflections

Buoyant camaraderie uplift human woe


When metaphysical ruminations bubble

Tip the delicate balance

When deep internal yearnings surface

Can the Phoenix rise from the ashes


Amit Saraf 

 Lavender

I found her. Her blue petite top beckoned as her slender fingers curled around Jung's Animus - a rare masterpiece in the isolated city library. Her sparkling eyes made my heart fly like a vagabond kite hoping to eventually anchor itself. 

I shivered as I sat across her. She did not look up. Her delicate cheeks and generous lips boasted of many admirers. As she turned the page, her nail polish tinged in lavender stared back. 

I remember how she used to hate nail polish; that it was a very 'girl' thing. She had been ambitious, aggressive just like 'men.'

She smiled as she continued reading. Her face radiated a peace and warmed up the room. I could not help smiling too. 

I got up and walked to the exit. As I left the building, I saw an elderly woman throwing something into a bin. I peered inside. It was a mask tinged in lavender.

Amit Saraf

 The Place in Between

 

Lunar torches

      heal

stirring mummies

 

Angelic verses

        soothe

repenting sinners

 

Ethereal dances

         unite

tired soulmates

 

Light years away

 

A pure soul

   gazes at

the evening sky

 

Amit Saraf

 I could never imagine

 

 Melancholic ruminations

Obsessive fixation,

Cacophonic thunder

Shivering whales,

Incessant rains

Burrowing rabbits,

Stygian expanse

Blinded owls,

 

I could never imagine

She would visit me

Tonight

 

Amit Saraf

Catharsis


She was lost. 

Lost searching for her handicapped mother who stitched torn kites for her childhood competitions,

Lost searching for her struggling father who sold his motorcycle so she could study,

Lost searching for her childhood friend whose bruised fingers brought her plucked roses without thorns,

Lost searching for her bedridden husband who cried his heart out when she missed her dream scholarship,

Lost searching for her bosom friend who went away forever because of one lie.


He found her. 

Found her by crying with her,

Found her by seeing her world from her eyes,

Found her by loving her for who she was. 


She danced like the whirlwind, 

He swayed hand in hand, 

For in finding her, 

He found himself.


Amit Saraf

 PACKING FOR A DIFFICULT JOURNEY


I will meet her very shortly


I remember that night when I kissed her 

Her knees buckled and

she fell into my arms


Like the setting sun

Falls into the arms of the crimson sky

Entrusting it with its light


I am carrying her favorite handkerchief

Which wipes her tears


Like the orange rainbow

Which heals the distressed clouds


I am carrying her favorite roses

Strewn on our first night


Like shells on a storm stricken beach

When she had cried till dawn


I am carrying her favorite perfume

She relies on it when she wanes in confidence


She wore it on her last birthday

Before she lost her sense of smell


..... 


I see her in the far distance 

Her  beckoning radiance

makes my heart skip

 

Like that of a school boy

Who steals his first kiss


I jump 


The salty waves caress me

Like a mother loving her lost infant 


I see her smiling

With outstretched arms


My soul mate 

We are one


Forever

Wednesday, March 24, 2021

Eternal Reflection

I wandered like a seeking lark, 

Navigating systems and their bias, 

I knew not where the journey ended, 

A golden rainbow or an abyss. 


My thirst for the cosmic secret, 

Abandoned all material fruit, 

I gave up power and position, 

To find the eternal truth. 


I travelled through endless time, 

Muddling through theories of men, 

I staggered and stumbled, 

Till I found the sacred garden. 


I found there a treasure chest, 

And I knew I held the key, 

Inside was a sparkling mirror, 

Which finally set me free.




Sunday, October 04, 2020

 An attempt at Haibun and Haiku


I kept writing her letters. I wrote about the apricot tree below which we used to kiss, the flowing river on the banks of which, with fingers entwined, we had dreamt together of our lunar house. I wrote about the pangs in my heart when she was not with me.

Her parents did not approve of me. They felt I was not successful enough. She was not that strong and was married off to a merchant. I continued writing to her. She never replied.

lovebirds kiss

Mona Lisa auctioned

adorned

 

I heard much later about her suicide. Did she miss me so much? Why did she not reply to my letters then?

 

quiet cemetery 

The eclipsed moon

screams


Saturday, October 03, 2020

 

Experiments with ‘Setting’

1. From my window I could see the rickshaw puller whose wrinkled face boasted of the numerous years spent ferrying ungrateful passengers. He was staring at the tall pole beaming down a blue light on the narrow lane separating the cluster of one-storied houses from the railway line. Fruit and vegetable sellers thronged the tiled pavement alongside, shouting bargains. A car horn blared and retreated in surrender as there was no way it could enter the jammed lane. The sweet shop at the corner was doing brisk business. Even the numerous flies pecking at the goodies could not deter the sweet tooth of the jostling crowd trying to grab the free taste on offer. A young mother sat in anticipation outside the shop with a copper bowl wiping her brow and cheeks which sometimes dripped with sweat. I noticed that she did not do the same for the baby on her lap. The local trains regularly stopped at the Borivali junction ensuring that the lane at no time of the day could boast of peaceful anonymity.


2. The bright buttons on his tweed coat stood out in his dimly lit study revealing an adventurous side to his normally sober countenance. The grey clock on the wall never chimed as if time had come to a halt. The dust in the corners of the room gleamed with a history of years passed without glory. His chair had no wheels and it stood like a rudderless boat on a stormy night waiting for the inevitable. 


 

Shangri-La

 

Noctilucent twilight elopes with mischievous moon,

Madagascan lovebirds drink into oblivion,

Dilettantes drown in the crescendo of a chameleon poet’s whisper.

 

Breathe

Marigolds in the familiar marsh smell of lost love,

A waning moon sighs with forlorn reminiscences,

My bleeding heart buries catatonic souvenirs,

No onlookers.

Superhuman effort cannot salvage a ruined promise,

Hopes crashed against unyielding ice,

Magical pacemakers exist only in fantasy,

No onlookers.

The past unfurls a saturated fragment of a perfect world,

The future is a sweet illusion of Satanic promises,

The present is the eternal lover,

No onlookers

I died and am still unborn,

I embrace my reflection,

Ecstatic in the here-and-now,

No onlookers.

Thursday, March 19, 2020

Experimental writing

The freezing water quickly filled right up to my ears making it difficult to breathe. Shivering, I tilted my ear to gasp a few gulps of air. My other ear, submerged, started to hurt. My right hand weighed like lead as I groped around the pointed tips of the stalactites. My fingers reluctantly released the broken torch. Almost blinded, I jerked my left leg forward. In an instant, the ground beneath me gave way and started sucking me in...

'General, we are going through extreme turbulence. Please keep your seat belt fastened.'

The loud crisp voice jolted me out of my slumber. I tried to lean forward but was pushed back by the seat belt. Bright light filtered from the window pane. I blinked. Instinctively, my right hand went to my coat pocket, searching for the letter.

Whispering Eyes

Whispering Eyes
You tell me you are happy and full to the brim,
You tell me you won’t budge,
And have always lived on your whim...
I don’t believe you,
I know,
Those are just lies...
There is only one place I know where to look,
And that is,
Into Your Eyes...
I look into your eyes and what do I see,
I see a child who is crying,
A child who wants to be free...
I look into your eyes and again I see,
Hope, Love and Laughter,
For a world full of glee...
I look into your eyes and this time I see,
You are calling out to someone,
One who broke your heart maybe...
Your pain engulfs me and I take a walk,
I try to tell you something,
But I just cannot talk...
Your eyes haunt me and make me want to cry,
They show me a world,
That can never fructify...
I no more look into your eyes,
For I am sad,
And that’s not kind...
It’s not your fault,
Maybe,
You never knew my mind...

The Fairy Dairies

The Fairy Diaries
When reality began to fade
And delusion seemed to overtake...
Love bloomed larger than life
It was just a mirage...
Caught in the whirlpool
The mind whispered - “Escape”...
But the heart waved its sword
The soldier stood at the gate...
The enemy came as expected
No mercy, just hate...
The soldier was wounded
But he stood steadfast and straight...
The battle raged all night
But he was on a date...
The battlefield was littered
She was now safe...
He peered with his exhausted eyes
The mermaid had crossed the sea...
Beyond to the far side
There was just no way to see...
He trudged along whistling
Singing - Do Re Me
Delusion or Reality
It was the only way to be...

Poem - Of Dragons and the Afterlife

Of Dragons and the Afterlife 

Structural fallacies
Starry swims
Chaotic Melancholy
Gratifying Alienation

Restricting Routine
Molesting Reality
Indifferent love
Atlas shrugs

Heroic glimpses
Electrocuting insights
Neural wars
Thumping thirst

Curtains yanked
Beaming Rivers
Lover's caress
Buoying spring

Sunday, April 15, 2012

Triumph

Round 6, Meghalaya Open State ‘B’ Chess Tournament, 10th April, 2012, 5:26 p.m., Shillong…

For me it was a must-win match or I would definitely not qualify for the State ‘A’ Tournament and be one of the top twelve players of Meghalaya. As I sat across my opponent in the room, I had mixed feelings. There were about twenty players in this room including the arbiter. The signal to start the game had not yet been given. There was a low buzzing sound and it seemed to be a collection of the many individual conversations. There were small children, some all set to play against adult veterans. The tea vendor was strolling up and down the room whispering to people to have tea. One player who had spilled his tea from the plastic cup was warily looking at the open window which boasted a strong breeze.

As I looked up, I could see the bright light bulb near the door on one side and the three tube lights on the other sides. It felt good to see the room adequately lit. I looked at my opponent and smiled. I could detect excitement and expectancy from his face.

Finally, the signal to start was given. I was playing White and made my first move hesitatingly indicating an ‘English Opening.’ Yes, I was nervous and knew that I had to play very accurately against my opponent who is a tough player. I had played against him last year in the tournament and had drawn with great difficulty.

My opponent who was playing Black moved his knight confidently to the square F6 with a view to develop and control the center at the same time. I quickly moved my G pawn with a view to fianchetto my king side bishop. My opponent moved his other knight to a symmetrical position once again indicating that he wanted center control.

As we kept sparring, we reached the middle game without any side suffering any casualty. Suddenly, he moved his G pawn two squares forward to G5. Considering he had castled, and this was one of his main defending pawns, I was taken aback. What was he thinking? What was his strategy? As I puzzled over this, my eyes fell over his innocuously placed rook on the F8 square. He was planning to attack the H pawn, check me with his queen, then sacrifice his bishop and bingo – checkmate with rook… all in a total of six moves.

I felt a sense of exhilaration at having seen the ploy and proceeded to defend accurately. As we matched wit, the game slowly started turning in my favor. After about half an hour I had compelling advantage and my opponent gracefully resigned.

I was happy to have won and knew that if I had not seen that ploy, things might have gone differently. But there was something much bigger than the win which I am celebrating. It was the gracefulness of my opponent and a triumph of the human spirit in his earnest battle to participate and almost win. My opponent was the epitome of what it means to celebrate life itself. In spite of my win I stand humbled by the match and I am proud and privileged to have played against him. Winning or losing here has only technical significance.

My opponent is blind.