Works of RK

To the provider of those in need, I pray That should there be another soul in need Whose need is more desperate than mine Attend Thee first to my fellow being And you would have attended to me. To the protector of those in fear Kindly lend courage to the meek For from fear comes failure And failures, misery. Lend courage to my friend. For where a friend fails There is little success for me O! Bhairava, I know That I am but a little commah In the Epic called life. Place me in places where I shall make sense, Let there be a greater meaning to my life And that meaning be far greater than I. Bhairava is the Lord of Time

Borrowed from: etsystatic.com What your golden glow  Does to a backless Cameo,  Is how i define Red.  Ah!

If you were to cross the road and hurt your toe, I know that I will never know. As we go on to take different roads and move on across different shores, there is something that happens to our relationships. Something that estranges, disconnects, disintegrates. I know that you still think of me. I know this because I find myself thinking about you. And thoughts rarely get seeded on their own. It comes from you to I and from I to you until one of us is alive. Old relationships rarely die. Like broken winged moths, they hang around dark alleys of forgotten memory lanes. Ever so often, I can hear one of them flutter its wings. Not too close but never too far.

Life will find a way to ease down the aisle someday. I too shall walk into the sunset one day. Of late, there are wrinkles around my toes, of the kind that will not go away. Are here to stay. Of the many beautiful women in that pic, There is one who is more sensuous than you, looks fuller than you. You know that I love beautiful women. I observe those faces one by one. The dusky one I watch for a minute more. But then these are those eyes that you have trained over a lifetime. As much as I love the dusky one, my eyes are always, always drawn back to you.

The allure of your mystical eyes have fascinated me for many years now. Memories from the time we walked together have held on to me like some stubborn perfume that refuses to die. Come, dance with me will you, till the end of time. Let's grow old together you and I shall we? And when you are bored of all these silences , Pick up that phone and fight with me. If death be a certainty Death by drowning fascinates me.

There was this blue train that used to run through yellow fields of mustard. I also remember green Paddy fields dotted with greasy diesel pumps, scarecrows and peacocks. But that was a long time ago. Maybe my memory plays truant with me. Maybe the fields were not all that green and the train all that blue. But pray don't tell me that those were not fields of mustard and that was not I riding that train and you traveling with me.

The unrelenting tides of time shall consume us slowly with its up's and down's. There will times when we find ourselves riding the waves and there will be times wherein we drown. Why do leaves fall in Autumn? You will ask me someday, and I shall say, these are springtime tears that plodded through summer until the fear of winter drove them away!! Stupid Poets!!! You will say... and then as usual, run away.