I stopped writing letters

I'd listen for you
in the hum of humming bird
and look around, in every star
in every nook and crevice
in every sunset and every sunrise!

I stopped writing letters

The doctor says

Blood cells in my body are depleting

How shall he know,

The heart ain’t a mere pump

Beating, thumping, trickling ….

Oh inapt,

How shall thou determine ailment

by sensing the pulsation?

But ought you dive to depths of heart

And listen intently

to discover ‘faults’ in the story

Is it de rigueur to exhaust blood?

I squandered, till today

Blood-ink that the deity gave

At times, together with her,

Largely- much before time

And, what remains now is

All for her to use this pump

I stopped writing letters

As no one’s left to read them now

Left are ones, who check grammar between lines

Left are ones who check nerves, not emotions anyway

I stopped writing letters

My doctor says: the blood has run out

How shall he know-

The triumph, whatever, too is ailing now

And maybe…

Maybe he knows, my heart is a mere pump now.

I stopped writing letters [to her]

They~

Image Source: http://goo.gl/stQJaF

They were the waves

On their way, moving forward

To find each other ~

She was an oasis in the desert

And-

He'd been lost in the dunes

For years then

She was an aching wave of ocean

And he was -

A minute particle of sand

Waiting endlessly

To be washed away by her force

He wished.

To be her morning newspaper,

She wished

To be his late night radio

Both wanted

To lay spilled together

And together -

They'd make a home

Out of each other

But then you know?

Life's not a Nicholas Spark's novel

He meets her

And they end up

Being together,

Forever!

Lullaby

                                                                                         -Saurav Pantha

Yes...
she bleeds until her veins are emptied
she cries until her glands shrink
not a bit of anything she ever asked for,
neither ever will she
from the pitiful morning
to the hasty days
ending to the sleepless nights

With the sorrow she lives
and the sorrow she beholds
and the tears she flows
scrabbling for what she is,
wondering where she actually belongs
you can never see her sleighing
you can never hear her scream
neither you ever cared!

She lives for the children
she sowed and harvested
Instead the plant turned venomous,
turned their back on her
still she believes in righteous indignation,
in the innocence of her soul,
the justice her children owe her
yes, she believes....

If it ends her blood's fight
If it ends her spirit's fright
if she could sleep in her poignant nights
I would give her wings
from bedlam to peace
she could fly
slowly holding her head to my arms

I sing my nation a lullaby