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Hair Tales from Punjab

Wednesday, May 15, 2013


That snow white peeress, one amongst those fair divas
Delicate and susceptible to injury
Unsullied was the moon she closely held
How angelically has she sprung up

Those sable manipulating eyes
Not discerning hearts, rather demanding
Having arisen at dawn, to a not-so-popular arena
The preface of the marvelous creation of gods

With every foot-mark being that of a luminary
Raring to forge ahead, conquering the world


(During School)

Wild pitchy fringe dangling off her head
A forelock that has become the talk of babblers
The breeze that kinks her hair along
Excavates her glory, ripping off the hearts

During School
Moving across the Bifrost of gazes
A gasp swept cross the audience
Adorers snubbed in an all casual manner
The devotees of an unprocurable sensation

A thunder, it renders, throughout
And touches me, triggers a stillness as I glide by
Leaving me numb and unconscious
And a hermit gone astray, thereafter

The instance doesn’t set off
I ache, with scatty glance and ever awake
Those strings condensing over my dreams
And then a sleepless dream of sleeps


(During Rains- at her roof)

Priding thyself, upon her beatified grace
Henceforth, being sired forevermore
And her beauty lingers in my memory
So that not even if I wished to get salvaged
So could I let her fall off my mind

In rains
Imitating like a poetry in motion
Adored, then fussed, since the time immemorial

Each strand of that raw silk
Spilling out like grapevine dribbles
A mess of ringlets downhill at dusk
Concealing the face, still fortifying it
And she that was young and fair
Surged in demand approaching her


(Together on bus)

Hair provocatively curled to bouncing questions
A few locks of polished ebony feathers
Like life usurping existence upon her skin
That black crowned beauty reigning all-ov'r
With her sinuous hair blanket be her cloak

A tentacle off her eyes, I dress
I withdrew my hand to uphold her purity
She unshackles and let the damp hair fall
All her swarthy black fur displaced
And, stooping, made my cheek lie there
And, toward her, streamed the god's ambrosial locks
Heavy, it slaps down as she lies down my shoulder
And flicks me, triggers a memory
Sent am I to a newfangled place

Present
The moment didn’t forge a few days
Now that I have her face by heart
I look less at its features than it’s
Darkening frame; the hanging Woods


(Final)
I grasped a strange and unrivaled flower
As I awoke, I had that in my hand
Her approach towards my realm might
Make life journeying, a lot more evoking

Though, too weak for all of hers endeavor
To set its struggling passion free
From pride, to vain ties dissever
And give consecrate to me forever
 

[P.S.  This is probably my longest poem ever.. and.... oh..shit! I forgot! I have an exam tomorrow]