Love And I

I don't particularly like Bollywood movies. Still, I have grown up watching them. I have often wondered why all of them revolve around a love-story and why half of those love-story reach their climax on railway-stations or airports. What is so special about a train whistling away or an announcement of the departure of a flight? I always believed that there was something special in every cliche but my mind could never fathom the reasons behind this strange liking for airports (or railway stations).

Even before railways came into existence, love had become the favorite cliche of all artists. At the age of 17 or 18, I fashioned myself as The love-poet on Orkut forums. People often commented that I have endless topics related to love to write about and I knew that they really questioned my ability to write about anything else. I wasn't offended by that question. I will tell you a secret. I think they were right. It wasn't a handicap to my limited writing talents, it was an inspiration. Love and the pain it had brought in my life. Love and the other word it had added to my silence: rejection.

I had a score to settle with love. Love, that was always present in my poems and conspicuously absent from my life. On that bronze colored afternoon, she was talking about love and I was sitting near the stairs, listening to her. She told me, her casual voice belying the seriousness in her light brown eyes, that she didn't want to find love, she wanted love to find her, she couldn't take the risk of "rejection". She wanted the perfect love. I wasn't listening to her after that. I was just looking into her eyes and they didn't shy away. She was one of the few friends I had in my new college. I knew the language her eyes were speaking. I thought of my own little tussle with love. Love finds its strength in its ability to catch you weak on your knees. I had a plan. To rob love off the surprises, the sweet tickles, the flush of emotions it can cause. I loved her like I woke up every morning, like I breathed, like I went through the daily chores of my day. I gave her love that she deserved; that I had also deserved... I had decoded the secret of love. I had made it a deliberate indulgence and a conscious decision. Commitment needs an honest will, not a malfunctioning heart.

I know she would never like what I did. But she could never know. She is happy. For three years, I have been trying to make (not "keep") her happy, every day. I tried, not with the blind faith of a sufi-devotee, but with the consistency of an honest bank-clerk. I mingled my love with thousands small  insignificant moments. I failed too, at times, but, only briefly. I made sure every night to say everything she wanted to hear before she went to sleep. It worked for us.

And then the time came for the college days to be folded neatly and to be hidden in the photo albums and telephone directories. I told her not to be sad, that the distances don't matter, that we would stay "in touch" and that we would meet (for the perfect ending). She kept fearing, she cried often and time kept slipping between our fingers. It was time for "the" good bye. I hugged her tightly. I stood smiling as she went into the airport. She looked back from across the glass. My voice couldn't reach her. I touched the wall of glass between us but I couldn't hold her hands. My mind had gone blank. My calculations were blowing in some unknown storm. I could hardly breathe. And then she disappeared to collect her boarding passes, to catch her flight. And I sat down on the sidewalk. I cried silently and love smiled. Now I know, all the while, love had a plan too. To make every insignificant moment of my life wholesome, magical and love-like. And what better place than an airport for me to end this war and accept my defeat happily.

(c) Ankur Srivastava

Eraser-dust

Twinkling stars shined and faded,
And in the moon kissed winter night,
I tried to leave you a note,
All I could manage was "eraser dust"

I looked at the white steam
Rising and fading, from the coffee mug.
The end is near,
The ritual of looking back and saying "goodbye"
Can I skip it?

I promised
"A letter when we part our ways,
I will write to you."
And you had asked,
Your voice soaked in love,
"A poem?"

"Where is the poem?"
A poem for a friend
Who has refused to listen,
To my eyes that hide
Pain in anger.
And a poet who has tried
So hard to remain silent.
That he has forgotten the words.

"You are my poem."
I had said,
I have written you slowly,
By playing stupid tricks to make you smile.
By pretending to be angry
To make you cry.
By being not me,
But better, better than I could ever be.
By trying so hard every time,
For the perfect words.
That you think
I had faked it all along.

You are my poem,
The only brilliant masterpiece
Of a writer of junks, drafts and trash.

My poem has fallen apart,
Word by word,
It has erased itself
And my pain has lingered
In the eraser dust.

"Where is the poem?"
A poem that would make you turn back
And wave at me...
Your eyes that look stranger each day,
Your smile that I keep searching.
And a poem that's missing.
And memories like eraser-dust.

Sometimes, it all seems
Like a dream that ended so soon.
Like none of it happened.
Like you were really a poem
That someone erased.
Took the words from me
and left me a paper
With eraser-dust.

Timeless Love

Timeless Love

I am quiet.
My mouth is filled
With her warm breath,
And a storm
Of passion.

She whispers in my ears,
A fantasy
Never heard before...
"Love"!

Love?
Indeed...
I smile foolishly.
She covers my eyes
With her lashes.
I dream.

Her voice fills
The air around me.
Like the scent
Of her breath.
She says
"Promise."

My heart beats
Are faint and slow.
My world sways
In the gentle breeze
With thousands of butterflies
Of unseen colors.

I promise
To hold her close.
And she is weightless
In my arms,
In my love.

Once,
I slept with her
Under an undressed moon.

Her promise,
"Always or never?"

I wake up,
Every single morning,
In her olive eyes,
An eternal lover.

Timeless.

(c) Ankur Srivastava

Love and Longing

Love and Longing

For all the sweetness of love,
And uncountable kisses;
There shall always be
On the tip of tongue
A salty drop of tear,
A thirst unquenchable.

I wait for you

Dressed in soft, white sand;
A little of my shore
Is eaten away every day.
 Such is the hunger of love.

A glorious moon conspires.
Every night,
You leap in passion
To touch the moon.
I wait for you
Every night
In envy and love.

You fall in my arms,

And I hold you.
I am your bottom, ain't I?
You dream of the moon,
In my arms.

  Tides of pain rise and fall.

You, playful and young,
I, Drowned in your pain.
Longing for you
To turn back.
Hoping...
You wont turn away.

A moment...
Still, in time.

Framed, in boundless space.
We stand together
In the infinite sea
Of love, longing and passion.
At the edge of the world.


(c) Ankur Srivastava

Diamonds

Diamonds,
You look through the glass,
Your eyes transfixed.

A fleeting glance at me,
Through the corner of your eyes,
I manage a smile.

Your eyes,
Sparkle for a moment.
And turn dull,
Diamonds...
Vanish.

"Why diamonds?"
I hold your hand,
You rub your fingers.
"Because diamonds are forever!"

Tonight,
I hold a pen and my heart,
I cut, shape and polish,
And love feels,
Every stroke of my pen.

The stars sigh,
I carve your face.
Eyes gleaming
A luminous smile.

Diamonds?
I have no clue.

I kiss your fingers,
Soft and tender.
You open your eyes,

Smile.

Diamonds...
I keep them forever.

Ankur Srivastava

Just Before I Am Lost

Just before I am lost,

I want to write a love poem.

The color of love stolen,

Tears dripping,

And a night lit up

By silver moon of memories.

The journey of love,

From being born in tears,

To being lost in smiles,

Finding its way in silence,

And choking

Under the weight of promises.

I am here tonight to say it all,

Things that were not meant to be.

Love made it happen,

Our little sweet miracles,

That have somehow stopped.

It's difficult to draw boundaries,

When you are too close;

So many things go wrong,

When you are lost.

I don't beg for tomorrows,

I would rather buy a yesterday.

Love somehow holds it all intact,

But tonight love is lost,

It has fled, defeated...

Without a message.

We are blinded,

Left to wander, in the sea of thoughts.

A thousand unknown reasons,

For the death of every star,

A hundred questions...

Why our miracles have stopped.

Just before I am lost,

I want to write a love poem.

(c)Ankur Srivastava

Eternal Love

These tears have a story to tell,
I have kept them in your heart,
To cry with my pain,
As we turn around this corner,
To take different roads.

It’s important to stay apart,
So as to miss each other,
And keep loving long after,
The secret of love is known.

This evening walk is a pensive sigh,
From the lips of a tired day.
Its warmth would be lost
In the cold night of broken stars.

I will come in the morning again,
With the dew on green grass,
Whenever your tears will fall,
I will hold your hands again.

Those would be little moments,
Little verses I will read to you,
Little mornings spent together
For that we shall live forever.

(c)Ankur Shrivastava

Where is the poem?

"Where is the poem?”
You asked. Your eyes, still so beautiful,
If eyes can be painted in words,
Their color, and sheen,
And the way kohl smudges after a tired day.
And the pain and silent tear
That never falls.

I told you not to talk of poems,
For, poems make us sad,
Rather look out of the window
The rain is about to fall.
The drops are sweet like teenage love,
Oh teenage love! Why doesn’t it last?

May be I will write a poem again,
A poem that won’t make us sad,
Like the flowers in the vase,
Oh! Don’t they look real?
And yet they will never die.

A poem with a smiling face,
Like your photograph in living room,
That hasn’t aged, not at all.
But, then I want the lines of your face,
That remind me how you added a little love
To the everyday pains of my life.

I can’t write a poem.
But may be someday,
I will steal one,
From the way your hair hides your face
When you are asleep.

You can find it in your lazy yawn,
I will read to you
In a sweet morning kiss.

Ankur Srivastava(c)

You and I

I have known you,
Like dreams, like angels,
Unreal, fantasy...
And you call me.

I reach for you,
With the moonlight at your window.
I hide in your eyelashes.
Open your eyes
Let the light come in my world.

For ages, centuries, eons...
I survived
Tucked in the curls of your hair
Falling over your face.

I breathe slow,
In the soft rhythm of your breath.
Let me touch your lips
Like nascent dew on petals
I want to melt away.

My little fingers
Tracing destiny on your palm
I write in the language unknown
My destiny with yours.

I write this poem
In your words,
I speak as you,
My voice merging with yours
And fading in the echo.

My soul is lost
In the halo of your being
I am but you.

Be Delicate, My Love!

Be delicate, my love!
When you wake me up,
From my dreams.

And save me,
From the harsh sunlight,
Tuck me safely,
In your dreamy eyes.

Be delicate my love,
When you wake me up.
A dreamer I have always been,
And dont tell me please,
That I am a man of empty dreams.

We walk together,
Through this hollow tunnel,
For the sweet lights,
Of mornings we have dreamt for.

At the end of this tunnel,
Grant me one more night.
Where dreams breathes quiet,
And moon smiles,
Silver white.

Let me steal a dream,
From this fading dark.
My heart has lost its rhyme,
Kiss me one last time,
Before I wake up to find,
The dreams are all gone...

Be delicate, my love!
When you wake me up.

Wont Kiss Your Lips Tonight.

Beauty, perfect!
I name it, "You".

Sitting with your eyes closed,
Poised to be loved,
Like a little child.
On this wooden bench,
In this gulmohar grove.
Divine, between ordinary.

I wont kiss your lips tonight,
Not so soon,
Not before I play for a while.

Kissing your forehead,
Is my destiny written there?
It must be wonderful then,
I should care not
For tomorrows stacked up.
Let me play tonight!

I kiss your eyelashes,
To know the crimson dreams,
That lie within.
Your eyes still closed,
Lips anticipating,
Trembling;
I love them.

I wont kiss your lips tonight,
Not so soon,
Not before I play for a while.

Naughty,I confess I am.
Heartless,
Oh! don't call me that.

Now, I can feel your every breath,
Still a whisker apart,
I love it when you give up.
Your eyes open slowly,
Beads of tears,
Kissed away with care.
Complaints piercing in my eyes.
My little child.

No, not yet!
Not until you surrender
In my arms, completely.
Not until,
You whisper your wish
In my cheeks.

And then i shall kiss your lips,
But not before I play for a while.

Story of a Bud and A Dew

A little bud amid thorns,
Beauty, shy of itself,
Yet urging to be touched.

A crystal dew from honey coated mist,
A suicidal wish brings it down,
To feel the touch of beauty.

The soft dew and the innocent bud,
First love’s purest kiss.
The dew romancing velvet petals,
Its tantalizing touch,
The bud blooms drenched in love.

Beauty in its full spring,
Invite the beast from far east.
The dew looks in awe,
At the Sun storming in,
Will the bud close again,
And grant him a life.

The infidel bud refuses to listen,
Developing into a wicked rose.

Just before its death,
The loving dew had to see,
The lusty sunrays
And the shameless naked rose.

Ah, before the sun could kill him,
His once beloved ashamed him to death.

copyright (c) Ankur

Death Of Love

In the court of love,
We stand still,
Heads bowed,
Two lovers,
Accused of killing love.
-----
Remember our last date,
Sitting across the table,
With nothing to say,
No one to listen.
We ate our own words,
Promises and dreams,
Silently.
-----
I, the eternal dreamer,
Now feel the pang,
Waking up...
You, too intelligent,
Today begging for dreams,
To keep a hope,
To live a lie.
-----
This pensive sigh,
This urge to die,
Is all that we still share.
-----
As we walk together,
For the last time.
our love shows the way,
To our separate graves.

A Day In Love !

Morning...
We wake up together.
Your warm breath,
Falling on my neck..
Senses coming to life.
Ah! One more day in love.

Your eyes,still sleepy,
Sunlight seeps in..
Through your eyes,
In my life.

Evening...
A welcome kiss,
As the sun takes a dip,
Stars in your silky hair.
Your voice,
Singing a lullabye...

A hook undone,
The glorious moon arrives,
In this pale moonlit night,
In your anticipating starry eyes...
A dream i wish for you,
In your fragnant breaths,
I have kept it there..
Safe between my lips.

One more day in love,
Our goodnight prayer.
And love listens.

A Missing Star !

In an unending night,
You looked out of your window,
A dim star I was,
But your gaze gave me light.

Shinier than ever before
In the light of your love,
I challenged the sun.
I killed the dark ness,
And we grew fonder.

Your heart ached for me,
And I came closer to you…
We held hands and walked on
I was then your beloved lamp.

In a moment of passion,
You embraced me with your soul.
In your heart I found a new sky.
You called me your flame
The flame of life.

Now, the journey was yours,
I carried on,
Giving you warmth and love,
My very own blood burned
To keep the flame alive.

Your road has reached a dead end
You are reluctant to turn back,
And afraid to jump off.
I can show you no way
For there isn’t any.

Through all this,
I have completely forgotten
That once I was a star.
And I don’t know what I am now.

With You Or Without You

You try to read my eyes,
And I can’t tell you in your face,
That you read nothing,
You understand nothing.

My dreamy eyes have never lied,
You may have known my dreams,
If you had really tried.

It’s just that you look straight through me,
I feel ignored, and deserted.
Your eyes leave a sting in my soul
And yet you read nothing,
You know nothing.

It’s tough to be what I am,
A puzzle I have become,
You never bothered to know the code.
A boring riddle I am for you,
It’s tough to be what I am.

You want to walk along with me,
I want to hold your hand…
Preoccupied, you look away,
My cold hands are left trembling.

If one day I move ahead,
Or I fall back to catch my breath.
You will hold me guilty
And say it aloud,
You wanted to walk along with me.

But when we walk together,
Do you know,
How I hold back my screams,
How I drag my feet.

That I know this better,
You don’t want to walk with me.

You have a lot to offer me,
Your voice so sweet has often told me this
But dear, a reflection in my eyes can tell you
You just don’t know what I want.

With you or without you,
I yearn for you
And I never find you there.
With you or without you!

Love Calls Back

The cuckoo responds to the return of spring
From the sweet smelling mango trees.

Or, perhaps the spring comes back
On the soulful call of little cuckoo.


The rains answer the prayers
Of a thirsty, bald, burning earth.

The earth welcomes the rain song
With intoxicating earthy scent,
Tender green twigs spring up.


Flowers bloom at the outbreak of dawn,
As the glorious morning sun
Romance with their delicate petals.

It is the yearning of innocent buds
That calls back the sun every morning.


Such is the nature of love
The way two lovers regroup,
It seems eternal
And yet the moments race away.
Only to be relived and rediscovered.


May be, you pulled me back
May be, I knocked at your doors.
We are together again,
And everything else has faded away.

Sunrise

They walked together on the seaside
to see the sun rise,
his eyes were still sleepy
like he was walking in sleep
his dreams peeping through her eyes.

The dawn had not yet descended
the stars looked in awe
two people from different worlds
she was beauty and grace
wit and charm,he?
he was just a dreamer,
his hair like hay
and sleepy eyes,
they strolled together
between night and day.

She said in voice so lovely,
"the sand is so soft
like walking on cake"
he didnt feel it
he could only feel
her palm so soft in his hands
was he really awake???

"touch can be so touching!!!"
as his feet brushed against
her bare dovefeet,delibirately?

He thanked the wind
as her hair fell on his face
"once more o sweet breeze!"
this was way too good
he was clearly not at ease.

She admired the sun
as it rose from the sea;
"sun should rise from her bossom"
you know he was lost,
the sun or his love,
I am not sure
what caused him envy.

And then he felt the sunrise
as she kissed him on cheek
he touched her lips
his mouth was filled with sun
he couldnot speak.
the sun plunged into the waters
as he kissed her;

I can tell you what followed
but he cant because
in that one moment
he lost his senses
forever in her lips.

You know his eyes were sleepy
and he was a dreamer.

I Am The Poem !

I am the poem !

You wrote a lovely poem
And threw it away,
Just because it didn’t rhyme?

You had told me,
“The lines are meaningless,
The dreams weaved are unreal,
It’s too abstract.
It can’t be sung,It reaches nowhere.”

Many unsung poems you have,
Between your books
Lost, forgotten.
Dead pieces of papers.

You kept it by your bed,
It was too abstract,
But you read it daily.

Yes, it was meaningless,
The letters were blurred.
Why? Did you cry?
You had brushed the question away
“No it did, it cries too.”

You held it to your chest,
You had said,
“One day, It will rhyme.”

You kissed the end lines,
“Ah, why can’t it reach somewhere.”

And then you threw it away,
Tell me, why?

Your poem is now bleeding.
it is about to die.

Tell me, why?

What if it can never rhyme?

I am the poem !

Two poems from euphoria and despair

You can't understand all emotions, can you?

1.WE WILL MEET AGAIN..

We will meet again
After a long time perhaps
But for just one moment
We will meet for sure.

We will sit together
No words, no talks
No past to hold to,
No future to hope for,
Just that one moment...
That solitary moment;

Looking into each other's eyes
Not with the love
That brought us so close;
Not with the differences
That tore us apart;
Clear as dewdrops
Pure as morning light,
Just that one steady gaze
The only regard of the only moment;

You will know you
And I will find me,
You will have me
I will have you,
We will smile softly
At our foolish ignorance
That lasted so long;

That one moment will be
The only life of this life.


2.You or I?

You call me in the nights,
knowing that i fear darkness
and loneliness
my only loyal companions;

I answer your phone in deep slumber,
"i love you" is all i say,
all i have ever said,
all i can ever manage to say.
And you hang the phone i fall asleep.

"Insensitive", you may call me
but i have grown numb,
it has been my life....

I wake up with
streaks of dried tears on my face.
Unable to remember
who cried last night
YOU or I?