Hills and mountains

Grey mountains, catching the sky
With arms outstretched, spread out wide
Dripping water droplets down your weary backs
Grey mountains, who draw thee?

Grey mountains, warming your spine
In the beating sun, watching the sky.
Grey mountains, I wonder, 'who draw thee?'

Green hills, hunchbacked in the winter,
Shivering your grasslands on a windy day.
Watching young birds, learning to fly.
Green hills, how are thee?

Green hills, living in valleys
With not yet found animals, grazing your foothills.
Green hills, I wonder, 'who draw thee?'

--Mohan

No course

A normal treat to a fearless child,
Is a forest of loneliness with no desire
Where silence reigns, in the wild,
And to brighten the night, there is no fire.

A forgotten story to a searching soul
Is like honey falling from a woman's neck
And wonder tales are a lonely lore
To a heartless hide, thickened by scales.

To eyes that see no fantasy,
Every thing seems real and tied,
For a mind that does like it pleases
Surreal is the only side.

Together with a calm demeanor
With the magic wand beside the bed.
Cast the spell on a lonely night,
To bar the windows to close all debts.

Walking away now, into the sunlight
Choosing ground far and wide.

Near is fear of getting lost
No course is no halt till death
Till every unsaid words take rest
Inside pages of voluminous texts.

And hope like shadow trails behind,
But unlike it, sheds light on the front side.

--Mohan

Wish to be a vagabond

Of glorious nature,
Of the morning wind.
I wish I could sing,
More than any being.

But, is that power
Given to me,
Which to the poor
Comes inherently?

As a tramp I do
Wish to go away some day,
Like my heroes of odes
Sailed away on their better day.

With sun on my shoulders
And wind in my face.
I wish I could walk too
To that eternal place.

--Mohan

Nature's sway

The cherries hanging in the wild,
Like an angry, thoughtful, carefree child.
Flow in bunches of red and green,
Like no other flower or fruit ever seen.

Glowing their shadows on the wet tarmac street
Oscillating, scintillating, in the autumn wind.
Giving sweet to every passer by,
Without hesitation and doubt, with no tired sigh.

Never tired with swaying from side to side,
Never showing it, but still biding their time
Waiting not, but enjoying the nature's ride.
Never expecting for their fragrance one single dime.

Teaching everyone around to be bright and gay,
As long as they are around, everything's the right way.
If life was given to actually be taken away,
Then is it not better to sing to nature's sway.

--Mohan

Heavenly blemish

Heavenly blemish on this earthly stain,
Every tear drop felt like rain,
Sorrow it was, unbound by the drooping clouds
Marauding a new path, evading the crowds.

Feeling the pain to be of insecure leash,
It would run away surely, to become another's pastiche.

Then the happiness will come leaping out of the bushes,
As the new cloud regains color, quicker it rushes--
Into the sea, to gather more moisture,
It cannot eat much water, with an old man's denture.

Funny it seems to many who look aghast,
But the monsoon ended, not soon, but at last.

--Mohan

Queen of life

To the beauty of thee, that
I know not come forth from where.
To that playful laughter I hear
From every bough, in everywhere.
Where are you hidden, oh queen of life?
Where have you kept your secrets untouched.

And like I lay dead, upon
The very land you have grown.
Where did I disappear when you
Took your last moments blink?

Oh beauty! Oh nature
You lay there unhindered
In your sleep, dreaming,
Brewing new quantities.

Ask for anything from I,
I will sacrifice.
To make new things happen,
In this opportune moment
I will never die.

Ask me for more if you want,
I will not deny.
Whatever be it that you ask.
I will give myself to you.
With misery or exhaustion,
I know, I can never sigh.
And with so much beauty around,
I am sure, I can never lie.

--Mohan

A falling feather

In the burning sky, fearing
No rain or warmth. She flows
As the wind blows around her.
Within her she flies, higher
To meet the sky, but
The wind she needs, some air
To breathe and some gravity,
Sometimes to bring her down;
When there is no cool breeze
That washes out what she knows.

She falls down softly
Without knowing why or when.
Touching the ground mildly
Not bothering anyone around
Or anything. She just wants
To fly when she can.

And before she started to think
She had reached greater heights,
Before the first wind blew her face
She had felt the sunrise.
And now she lies under a folded book.
She knows not if she was caught for good.
But she wants to fly still if the
Book opens and the wind blows.

But if to lie still is her destiny,
She does that without regret.
And never she dies trying to find anything.
But, today opening the bind
She flies to fall down to the ground.
The wind is not that soft and
The rain is much harder, but she
Knows its just a passing monsoon.
Another day will come when the sun would
Dry her silky hair and provide warmth
For her tender body. So, she
Waits for a new day or a
New moon. When there will be clearer
Skies and she could again take off,
She knows that day will come soon.

--Mohan

Day under the new moon

The new day begins
With a walk under the new moon.
No light burning in this
Hot liquid noon.

Only the rustling wind,
Hissing in your ears,
As of dusk she remembers,
As to the new day she surrenders.

The silver lining is
Lit up by stars this evening,
The new moon is only the beginning,
The new path lies under the sun,
There are many,
Which one will you take, honey?

--Mohan

Everyone as a whole

That touch, that smell
Of sweet fragrant grass.
The aroma wafting through
My nostrils, never it will pass.

Just sitting on the ground
I am sure, I can enjoy my lifetime.
And somedays I wish, everyday
This would become my pastime.

The sun, the air and everything
Else surrounding me and my friends,
Could all melt away, but still be
Until we enjoy it and till all ends.

Its not just me who is
Asking for a better tomorrow,
Where peace can reign the lives of
The tortured, obliterating their sorrow.

I just hope we will all meet each other
Someday, to celebrate the love
In our heart and the peace in our souls.
I don't know who all that will be?
But, I hope it will be everyone as a whole.

-Mohan

New dawn

Looks like a new dawn
Is beginning today,
The silver lining are
Touching each other
In unison, dancing to
The tune of the nightingale.

Far-off sirens of cement
Factories, disturb the dead,
Out of their slumber.

Exhausted with pain,
The morose morning,
Brings new delight to
The sailors face.

The break in the clouds,
Brings a wind that howls.
And the morning sun, slides
Away, with a snide look
On his face, cheating the
Earth of light.
He disappears, leaving
The world in darkness.
The dusk falls quicker than
Anticipated, as the new dawn
Ends with a new song
From the owls prey.

Casting a shadow of light
Darkness falls heavier tonight
And forgetting the fearful rain.
Sounding a heavenly noise
To no avail. You sing, "Decorate
This new day with less pain".

--Mohan

On a rainy summer night

The corroding heat was burning
The heart to give more warmth.
But, the wind never blew to
Ignite the few fenders into fire.

The eyes could never see in the glare,
They could only stoop and stare,
But, all they could see were miraged
Oasis, in a developed desert, decorated
Not with trees but, with cement jeweleries.

The bricks only built a fireplace
On the planet, not a safe haven from
The heat, as planned. It seemed better to
Sleep under a maple tree or eat a
Tasty mango than drink evergreen tea.

Water was found somewhere beyond the sea,
But, could not drown the thirst as
It was inhabited by disease. Not by
Chance could anyone greet another.
Some were tired and some were weary
Of what others might carry.

The skies broke up, the clouds patched up
And the rain came pouring in. Into the sea,
Into the only place to be found with
Locks and keys, bolted shut by unseen
Thunderstorms and lightnings and breeze.

The summer was drenched, the winds
Were cleansed and the only window left
closed was opened narrowly. The mirages
Were washed away, the oasis flowed a river.
And the jeweled ornaments lost their
Luster. And the sun calmed down to
Let more people live.

--Mohan

Lifelets

Obscured horizons, fading lightnings,

Neighbouring mountains, asphalt streets.

Still winds unknowingly flowing.

Chilled water bubbling for breath.

Hot summer, rainy nights.

Lonely rooms, mirrored skies.

Bright stars, cloudless mornings.

Moonlit skies before sunrise.

Cool sea breeze or salt sea water.

Hot tropics or the cold water falls.

Mist covered mountains or the burning desert.

Desolate caves or the sunday fair.

Clear blue skies, hanging cotton clouds.

Flowing cool winds, mist covered mountains.

Evergreen trees, chirruping birds,

Sunset to bed. Morning sunshine.

Smoke from a far off forest fire,

A flying jet is a meteorite.

A falling star is a flying comet.

An eagle is a glowing chariot.

And a white screen is unprismed light.

A black window is the passed away sunlight.

A street light is a glowing firefly.

A firefly is a burning seaweed.

The wind is gaseous water.

The water is matured wine.

Man is a accidental miracle,

And god is just a spectacle.

--Mohan

Like shifting sand dunes

I love to look at the sky,
And see the flow mirrored in my eye.
Every ray of light filtering through,
Endless thoughts, like clouds hanging
Around the mist that the winds blew,
They circle around, ever lasting.

Like on a summer's rainy day,
The clouds they tried to find a way.
To bring their joyous notes of rhyme,
The water dancing to the rain, in tune
Trying to put every step in time,
Before their actions become immune.

And before long the heat vacates,
Giving the illusion, the sun dissipates.
And I bring the clouds back together,
To shun the light that the day threw
But so wrong I was, and I did not bother
To know; Without the sun, no plant ever grew.

The clouds dissolved on their own,
To give new light, to shine on the unknown.
And ever so happy the world looked,
As two nightingales in unison sang.
To their voice, I listened hooked.
Till from afar I heard a bowstring twang.

And dead lay the two nightingales,
In the dark, their faces didn't look pale.
Died my heart, with their poignant tune
And before I could take the next gasp,
Our life's like a shifting sand dune.
I wondered, this truth will I ever grasp?

--Mohan

Breaking the bounds of ecstasy

Every breath,
Every sound,
Everything that resonates
My senses and brings them loud.

Every rustle
Every breeze,
Every feel that elates me
To the boundless reality.

Every thing that makes me real,
Every thing that makes me feel.
Every wonder that makes me kneel,
To its unreal countenance in ethereal.

Too joyful to counter sorrow,
Too light to feel the weight,
Too straight to bend in doubt,
In a hurry to stop and wait!

What feeling of energy,
Flowing in my lethargy.
Bring me a glass of water,
If its death that's around,
Who cares, I will die with laughter.

--Mohan

My girl, time!

Many different paths, cut
Through by this endless river.
She flows calmly like a
Leisurely serpent regretting her fears.

She touches the cold shining
Edges of pride and honour.
She brings peace to the
Planets revolving set to
Revolt with disorder.

How, I would love to walk with her
To my wit's end.
My hassled brain seems too slow
To comprehend, how easy it would be
If to her I surrender.

Take me to you,
For you live within yourself,
And if I am with you I would
Truly be a part of me.
Take me to you, I'll ask you,
I will not beg, for nothing
I've to hide from you.
No pity you have to show me.
Take me to you, and my wish
Will be done.

--Mohan

Remembered

The words are forged in grains of sand,
And are erased by that next rolling wave.
Forgotten past, of unsung tyrrants,
And heroes who, with glory, sleep in grave.

And maestros of music, masters of words
Rhythmed the words to suit the sun,
They sung of those gods who sleep beneath
Where, no one can find them, but none.

And all those martyrs, madmen and sailors
Who travelled and trudged, to find a port.
Where they felt they could rest unhindered
Forever they thought they would find god's fort.

Of all those men and women and children
Who left no mark, but a footprint unseen.
They are remembered here, in this song,
I promise I'll go wherever they had been.

--Mohan

It will all end

Have you ever wondered,
At the blue ocean sky?
Stretching far, never ending,
Circling back to where you stand,
And as you stand there,
Suffocating on its breath.
You will know, that
It will all end.

When the waves cease
To lap the damp ocean floor.
And the mirrored music of
The sun brings you home.
When every breath you take
Is made inside a granite floor,
One thought crosses your mind and
You will know, it will all end.

--Mohan

Cold summer shine

And the cold summer shine,

Brings the monument of time.
And I see your funny face,
Reliving the moments.

With the boy from somewhere else,
Have a cup of tea with the elves,
Take me home in this fancy night,
Where the sun turned off the light.

The windows are growling in the dark,
No one to care, no crook on the doors,
The breeze is taking leave, out of sight,
Bring me some of the heaven's might.

No pleasure in your sorrow, I can see.
Turn off your mindless misery.
Take me to the unknown destiny,
Where we can fight over eternity.

Just laughing, in this cold summer shine,
Listening to voices in fat disguise,
Run to the hills so far away,
Become a part of this burning day.

--Mohan

Have you dreamed yet today?

Have you dreamed yet today,
Of the mirrors on the sidewalk
Reflecting the same old path?
Have you dreamed yet today,
Of the splinters of glass
Shaping the earth in a ball?

No, not yet has time come to last
Longer than a day, that you may!
Isn't it enough to join in and laugh
When you know, there is no
Getting out of today?

Have you dreamed yet today,
Again I ask, of people screaming
Your name to keep silent?
Have you dreamed yet today,
Of the lake by the river, where you
Could embellish your voice without fear?

No, not yet is it time to run
Away from the cold evening's might.
Isn't it enough if you can breathe
A whiff of freedom, drenched
In the morning sunlight.

Have you dreamed yet today?
Of no day past yesterday,
Of no evening's but only day,
Of every path drowned in bushes
Cleared to give you a way.
Have you dreamed yet today?

--Mohan

Washed away in the silvery tide

Blue skies, water spread out wide.
Sands, a mire in the coastline.
Nearer and nearer to the tress
Uncommon shades in a seeming desert.

Scorching in the suns heat
On a summer afternoon.

A music to turn the head in circles,
And air to dig you inside out.
To drink the clear blue-white surf,
And some water to burn the throat.

Walk away far from the world,
Leave the memories behind
With happy friends laughing at
Everything around, not with mockery.
But with mild apprehension of
The contradictions in the comprehension.

Another force pulls you around to
Come back to this world teeming with life.
You surrender your body, but
Your mind survives, where the memories
Died, making present the future of life.

Nothing to surround but the
Surf and the wind covering your face.
The body is naked, it is
Being washed away in the silvery tide.
The face lost in the
Blanket of clear invisible wind.

And then when you walk back
Smiling back to your friends.
You know your mockery
Is done to death,
When the new life lights up with shadows
You know you were awake when you slept.

New things unfolding

Look, new things are unfolding,
As the past jerks off

On the present. New things
Unroll in this magical play.

No misery, no more pain,
Nothing to hold on, driven
Out of the nautical lane.

Lost, between the red
Tropical trees, the eyebrows
Furrowed in the dead dark.

Look, new things are unfolding
In the dark.

--Mohan

Journey

The tires were squeaking
And scuttling on millions
Of flying stones.

Flying past the window
Was a moor adorned
In favoured jewels.

All across it lay,
Golden sands, crowned
With the purple lands
Of the monster man.

We see today it'll pass.
The black window closes.
The moon must be tinted,
Not just sun.

--Mohan

Diary

I have never written much diary before, I get a diary every year, sometimes more than one. I write it for a couple of days, and forget all about it. But, you know, I seriously think everyone should write their thoughts. Not, because they are important or anything, because, time and thought only come once.
We change, it is a constant. Nobody can change that!
Every moment is cherishable, because it is unique.

I guess diaries are meant to be more personal. But, since I have bored you with my previous paragraph, I'm gonna post my entry of 15th January 2009. I got the diary on 14th January.

Anyway, now to the main part of my post.

January 15th 2009.

The diary looks forbidden.
Why?
The life is not worth recording, unless it is worth it

What makes life worth it?
It gives answers.
What gives answers?,
Questions.
But they question?
And they answer!

Go to sleep, go to sleep.

Tomorrow you must be ready.
It's a big day.
Day after you may die.

That's the end of the diary, I am not going to post, any more diary things here. But, I just now re-read while writing today's diary. And felt it was a "thought, undeniable!" So, I put it here. Anyway, it's not much of a diary, but, it is just me. Trying to be me, once in my life expressing myself on an unusual mass of paper!

--Mohan.

"What?" "Shut up!"

The great ones are
whispering in my ear,

"What do you want?"

"What do I want?"

"Go, find it. No, stay awhile,
no, alive. Wait, the night
wants to sing to you. No,
go, the dawn welcomes you."

The man over the hill
Has enormous power.
He can smoulder mountains
And bring calm and peace.

In peices we sleep,
Dreams make sense in other dreams.

"Stop!"

"What, what did I do?"

"Shut up!"

"Why, what happened to you?"

"Sit, sing, work,
dance, laugh, cry, clap!"

"No, no, I can't. I
want to live."

"Shut up!"

Silence encumbers the
purple night.

"Where have you been?"

"To the planet of the thorns."

"Tell the truth."

"What's a truth?"

Smack, the cheeks turn blue,
the lips are engorged.

The believer only sees what he wants to believe in

"No, no. You are wrong,
believe what you see."

"No, I will believe what
I want to."

The head smashes against
a rock. The rock crumbles.
A light shines in the
Bloody scar. Soaring with
Pain and encompassed
in loss of glory and self.

"You wil die!"

"But, the rock crumbled?"

"What are you?"

"Who are you?"

"Shut up!"

Mistakes pile upon success.
Success is one step behind life.
Death is a step ahead.

----The eternal dreamer, no sorrow shall wither my glory, no happiness shall surrender to my will. I will. And everyone shall be.

In the silent hallway

In the silent hallway,
There sleeps this man.
With no fear of dark
To bring light here,
Is a stringent ban.

But the light inside him
He is unable to recognize.
The power he holds
Is beyond shape and size.

The path he has taken
Is the one taken by all.
There’s no way to get lost
The road is same to all.

Half way to home
He wants to turn around.
Swimming against the tide
He wants to make one sound.

A yell for all to wake up.
From the deep slumber
Of no dreams; wake up
My loved ones, he cries
And the light in him he has realized.

--Mohan

A caterpillar's dream

At a fair, that I had been to,
Bathing in the sun there sat a
Caterpillar that must have fallen
Down from a leaf, it was
Eating the same leaf as if a
Feast could not make it sleep.

Gnawing with no teeth at stones
Hungry still from the last minute meal.
In the eyes that were as blue as sea, still
Jarring open into a butterfly.

Kindling a fire in its heart
Loafing in its own desolate ring,
Munching at a leaf it caught from
Nowhere, not where it knew, may be from
Other side of the moon. At the
Parking lot there came a boy, a very
Quiet part of his life, laid down to
Raise that caterpillar from the
Stone on which it had stood, for all
Time it ever knew, in rain with no
Umbrella, because of one thing that it
Verily knew, that what may happen, it
Would never be a butterfly.

eXactly when it could not tell
Yachting in the sun it felt
Zero chance it ever had, to not be a butterfly.

--Mohan

Along the human highway

The beauty is staring at me
Across the human highway,
The kids are begging for
One metal chip.

Money, money I don’t
Have any. They move on to the
Next piece of bone. Money
Money, no one has any!

--Mohan

The altar of glory

On the altar of glory,

The sacrificial lamb is
Brought to death, by the
Weapon of disguise. Every
Mute voice makes raucous,
Ravenous voices of jittery
And joy. The sun only smiles
As people run behind it, like
Hungry vultures. On the
Ground there is much
To be surprised at. But,
The shadows that grow
Defile it in their oily glory.

Just for a while though,
Not for long they stay, they
Slip and fall, trudge themselves
Around on the fuelled floor.
The world watches and
Laughs at the sacrificial lamb.
It is brought to death
On the altar of glory.

--Mohan

Do I believe in love

Do I believe in love today?
When no word you say is a song
To my yearning ears, to my soul
Captured in this happy tears.

Do I believe in love today?
When all you say, is a
Shrug and a smile, when by seeing
You my heart goes into exile.

Do I believe in love today?
When my words don’t
Make sense to me, but just
Saying them would set me free.

Do I believe in love today?
When all I see in my eyes
Is me and you, with you around
My world is exciting and new.

Do I believe in love, you say
After all the words I have put forth
Why not I say with a grace,
If everything I have said is the truth.

--Mohan