The Darkest Night Of The Year

Darkness has spread its wings
It's taking over the sky
Black ink spills over a white canvas,
It's a barren land inside the artist's mind..

The contagion of fear is here to take us all.

Wake up, Crucifier!
Let the full moon out of the shadows
Raise high tides once again
Lash out at the army of rocks
Wipe away the darkest night of the year.

At the gates of Paradise...

 © View from the Triund Trek

One morning I found myself at the gates of paradise, 

A chain of snow clad mountains, 

Surrounded by a coat of fog,

And the buzzing sound of roaring winds...

A surreal scene, where all my Gods stood right before me..

And I thought, I was inside a dream 

Just that I was slipping deeper and deeper 

I didn't mind that kind of falling..

Like a beauty that draws you in mysterious ways, 

Shakes you a little, 

Kills you a little,

And you're never the same...

But time passed by, 

And reality found the crack to seep in...

Slowly everything started to fade away

Still, I held on to that moment

Till my mind finished sketching the whole picture 

Tracing all the contours, 

Filling all the colours...

There, I've saved you forever you see... 

Until the next encounter dawns, 

And I meet you in another skin...

Catch a glimpse of my Triund trek experience

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Ask me about the artist!

Write to me at neelanjana24@gmail.com

Office Poetry Breaks

Your Trigger, My Sting.

Sitting still at my office desk,

I start a fiddling with my thoughts

As I gulp down a cup of brewing chaos,

My mind slits a patch

And it’s all oozing out today… 

The noisy chronicles of my mind

Your Trigger, My Sting. 

An Avatar of me...

I touch, I feel...
I'm in this constant search for adventure
Sometimes, I ride high on the crests
The adrenaline rushing through my nerves, fueling my soul

Sometimes, I'm stuck somewhere in between dreams & reality,
Waiting for that perfect rendezvous of the heart and the mind
That one place, wanderers can't find...

Tossing and turning in my bed all night,
I find myself awake in someone else's dream
Whose are these dreams?
Where do they come from?

Is this where I'm supposed to be?
I gaze through the sepia toned visions
It's dark everywhere but the Moon is watching over me.
She glides through the clouds,
Giggling like a frivolous young girl...

Perhaps, it's not her but me
She reminds me of my wild side
It's there & it's here to stay.
The sky stands still like a mirror
He holds an avatar of the woman I must become.

It's a dangerous road to get there
I've to risk everything that I ever was...
Call the bluffs before they're played
Yet wear my heart on my sleeves.

But most of all, I need to pick my road
And escape from this stranger's dream...

Oh dreams! you tricky dreams...
I can't find my way out.

I'll wait for the clouds to clear
My heart beats in anticipation for surprises...
November is here....
I think, the dawn is near.

Visions of a Forest Dream

A dark canvas with the picture of a withering tree 

Its branches melt away into pink and purple hues

Light rays break down into bits of diamonds

The scattered bits mingle with the colours

Colours that dance along the wind like sea waves

Pearl droplets rise from the wet grass 

And float in the air like bubbles of dew. 

Glowworms lit up the dark alleys of the forest

Like twinkling stars on a maiden's hair 

The forest is dark and wild

Its long and twisty roads,

Like the passage to a woman's heart

The deeper you go, 

You lose your way

Once you enter her world,

You are never the same again

You lose yourself 

To find something new.

The forest is full of sounds and mysteries

She waits for those who seek them...

Following the trail of the Butterflies...

I roam freely in the fields of golden grains,

The Sun shines brightly behind the shoulders’ of the mountains

A swarm of butterflies dance to the tune of the northeastern winds

I witness the graceful tap of those tiny wings;

The opening and closing of a universe full of secrets.

Wings like soft petals of heavenly flowers,

Wings full of colours and stories,

Turning into a kaleidoscope of my life…

Where do they come from?

Where do they go?

Theirs is a relentless search of beauty

Just like the dream, I chase on my two feet…

Making their way through the dense forests,

They carry the pulse of the wild and the mysterious.

Once they reach the gardens of daffodils,

Their souls blend in with the mood of the season.

I look around

I don’t see them anymore

Suddenly it’s winter,

Fields clad in thick foam of white snow

I close my eyes, a world moves inside me

I open my eyes to the scene of wings fluttering out of a cocoon

And it’s spring once again...

Image Courtesy: www.google.com

I felt infinite...

I sit here silently, 

Happy with what I have 

And letting go of what stood beyond me. 

The colours of nature enter my soul through my eyes, 

And in that moment,

I felt infinite...

Those are my trips...

When I was away, yet here.
My body, mind and soul scattered around the world.
I was listening, or maybe not.
The conversations went on with my hmmms
I was somewhere, yet nowhere in particular

The mind flaps her wings and takes me away.
Being there at two places at the same time,
Those are my trips ...

That's when we were free...

When we laughed without a care in the world, 
Our masks let gone of; 
All our fears vanished into the thin air.
That's when we actually met, 
That's when we were free...

The Young & The Wild...

You wander like a nomad in your youth. You follow the wind, see seasons change...
And then, marvel at nature's secrets.
They tell you to stick to the lines,
But you're quite the mischievous hopper, aren't you?

With the heart of a wild child,
You laugh at all those falls.
Even with the pain, you muster up some courage.

Perhaps, the boundaries are meant to protect
But the world beyond fascinates you...

You create your own directions, The walls can't hold you back.

Hope surprises you.

Hope is like a solitary leaf dancing with the wind,
Flying freely and carelessly...
Sometimes, you're almost certain that she'll fall flat on her face..
And that's when she surprises you.

Sometimes, I wonder...

Woke up to the call of a dull afternoon,

An afternoon in the plains,

While, my heart yearned for the hills

As I looked outside my window,

A tender fall of a raindrop catches my eye.

Like a scene from a half dreamt dream;

Like a poem in the making,

It speaks…

With a still gaze, I try to soak it all in

The assortment of greens, reds and pinks in my garden,

A solitary white flower blooming in the wind,

Birds chirping one at a time, occasionally joining into a duet

The fading in and out sound of a hovering airplane,

Adding that tint of urban culture to this isolated fancy world of mine…

This single moment,

A union of so many voices;

The coming together of so many stories...

Yes, this ordinary life.

A coexistence of worlds that run in parallel

With or without, our knowing

Sometimes, I wonder…

Don’t you wonder too?

Image courtesy: http://s1005.photobucket.com/user/rosydeava/media/Nature/045autumn.gif.html

Bird on a wire

Bird on a wire 
So trapped, yet, set free
Look upon the trails of the clouds and hear the sky speak.
Is it a sign or a story?
Rest the hero for the day,
And just be the spectator today...

A thousand ships sailed...

One knock of hope on thy doors,
And a thousand ships sailed..
They know not the tricks of the ocean,
But there was a brave rhythm in their togetherness...

People in phases...

People in phases,

People in situations,

Caught like stars in a galaxy

Who stays a stranger?

Who remains a friend?

Walking on dotted lines, making time seem fine

A twirl of events;

A slow dance of souls

We cross paths, our journeys too long

Seeking connections, sometimes not…

Things happen, sometimes not…

Held by a string of thoughts

Bound by none but time

Each connection, an unexpected reason

Our hearts find home,

The smiles seem known.

No matter how short, how deep

Connections, these are

Let it be, as they are...

For we, are people in phases

Phasing in, phasing out

Making moments shine out of dust

Writing stories etched in our hearts

Prone to wins & losses

Still looking, while the universe is at play

‘Something is out there’, they say.

Strangely, we know…

Just make her smile...

Like a rock, she rolls

Hitting pavements, crossing shores,

Each strike adds another coat of strength,

The scars so countless, yet so defining

A sculpture so formed, so her...

As days change into seasons,

More sheen to her body and mind

Some seasons were dry and unkind

But what could break her now?

She stood firm like a rock

With no chains and stark-naked honesty.

Her inner flame, her only soft spot,

A light too bright to stay veiled,

So it reflects on her texture when she smiles.

You want to know her?

Just make her smile.

Only one win matters...

Fragments build up within,
A sudden surge of energy fuels my soul

The walls, they want to melt away and let out these waves, 

Is it an explosion that awaits? 

Maybe, these are just noises and mere noises.

An on and off spell of calmness;

Showers of love and harmony. 

An equilibrium, I can't keep up with,

It keeps disappearing when I try to touch,

Is it my touch or am I just chasing a bubble? 

The bubble is fragile, not me. 

What I seek is hiding somewhere in a maze.

Oh the games, there are too many!

Only one win matters...

Now, I choose between the rights and lefts, 

My choices, my moves.

Play, play, play, 

Till the master move emerges 

And breaks down this stalemate. 

  

Only one win matters, 

To crack open the heart of possibilities,

So play, till you find the key. 

Play, till you see the maze vanish away...

Audio for this: https://soundcloud.com/neelanjana-barua/only-one-win-matters

And my Pen dances again...

Dear Pen, “What happened to your dance?” I asked.

With that faint moist nib, he began to glide down the blank paper

As though answering with a wink

Making that soothing sound of scribbles;

He drew slightly arched letters and said, “I do my best, lady.”

I dance in between those fingers when you’re lost,

Waiting patiently for every thought I’m meant to paint.

Don’t you see me throwing hints while you pause to pick that perfect word?

It’s me; it’s always me who gets your dreams

The world you want to paint, the story you hold so dear…

Sometimes, I’m your old fountain pen,

Sometimes, I’m just that blinking cursor,

Waiting patiently for every thought I’m meant to paint…

If only, I could peep inside your mind & let her trust me with your thoughts

We could write, sing and dance forever…

But she’s stuck with her own puzzles,

What she makes of this world and the people…

Ask her to drop that hat,

For magic is when Pen meets the paper.

Poetry is when thoughts are set free to wander…

Seconds of happiness…

Only you will fight, only you will emerge

It’s your story & you’re here to make a long run.

A meaningful one, if not that long…

What you choose, is your gift or curse

And of course you knew, didn't you?

That fragile phase of ignorance you seek

Drifts you away or takes you closer to a whole new world.

You thought it’ll be green all along the way,

And that’s when your fantasy goes wrong…

The picture you sought, didn't match the one in mind

And then you begin to think, does this mismatch really matter?

Did we have to say it out aloud?

Couldn't we stay content with this one second?

Oh you want it all,

You want the magic, you want the drama

You’re trying to make everything count

But it’s only a fragment of happiness we earn out of these infinite seconds…