Subtle Presence...

The hours of midnight relived,
and those walks cherished...
The decaying yellow eucalyptus,
the camouflaged layers of human waste,
and that trace, one inspired of
the earthly presence...

Slow,the spider looks from a distance,
it glides through the air,
seemingly defying the nature's laws...
Closer look on the marvel in front,
the silken twines and nature's hand...

It is the subtle presence,
that one feels,
from scrutiny one beseeches,
and in the inner realities,
me feels the apparent absence;

Me feels the apparent absence,
is where closer feel marks the presence...
The hours pass by,
I wake, and find myself in the noise, again asleep...

© Karthik Adithya Singaraju
16/12/2010

All Silence...

A silent sense confounds
a dormant yearning,
which muffled its cries for so long...
Amidst all the passing ridicule,
amidst all those passing jests,
and all that remained after all that
has touched upon, and now gone,
is still one that has been silently lined...

All silence,
false truth,
ignominy and heresy,
all that is left...
False belief,
cracked faith,
concocted devotion,
perverted view...

All silence,
sense amidst mute vision
gain amidst horrendous misgivings,
smile amidst all the liquid fate...
Rueful,restful and inert,
with broken limbs,
writhing in agony and shame...

Flared anger,
passion unfolding its venom,
injecting insensitive wrath into the veins of compassion...
Selfish designs,
motives of unknown minds,
mutual need,survival and thereupon greed...

All silence,
mute spectator,
silent stutter of formless words,
those anguished letters half-uttered,
half spat in distaste...
And now,filth running rivulets down
this pane of broken shards...
And conformed despondence and dejection
faced inspite of unsettling norms...

All silence,
amidst the convoluted names,
overlapped distortions,
humoungous failures unnamed...
Unheard thereof those false claims,
and our sagacious minds,
slumber in disdain...

All silence,
that is what remains,
inspite of uproar,
and all allegations which claim,
irony and respite,
rueful wrinkling of the stench ridden shame,
and all that passes between this
and the next walls,
is passivity,which shall forever remain...

Yes,all that shall forever remain,
all is plain silence...

© Karthik Adithya Singaraju

Just a dream called 'When'...

When the lights go out
and everything will be dark,
all that we lived, and all
the troubles that sparked,
all the life we have tucked away
in the shelves of past,
will just be a dream...

And when the curtains fall,
or when the rains just stop,
the lemons of love and
the honeycombs of life begin to crop...
I say, in the middle of the sundown hour
I will remain then,
with those memories,
yes, I will remain, just
a lonely lad performing sorties...

Downtown when those streets
have given away to souls and dust,
spirits take over those dark spaces of the mind,
I mean when the heart has sunk,
to the grey zones of trepidations...
You know,those spots where the
last soot reminds of an aged old fire,
and the new cold Zephyr..
Amidst all the tweets and walls
covered with mosses from disuse...

I mean when the cracks set in,
into the once majestic beauty,
you see, creepers creep
into the age old memories of grandeur...
Then, you know, all shall be left,
covered, hidden away;
all the much sung past...

You see, then you wake,
wake up from that long sleep,
and find everything was,
and is, and shall forever be,
just a dream, called 'When'...

© Karthik Adithya Singaraju

Placid Hearts...

Placid hearts travel through the valleys,
Cold and numb our limbs take us through this darkness..
Nocturnal chill, and placid hearts, I travel with the bards,
I travel through this world of sadness and sorrow,
I travel through all that smiles, and all that waves its beauty along…

You know when you love,
You know when you pray,
You know when you laugh,
And when you believe, and with faith utter
that whisper which says,
All that is there to believe, is truth,
Eternity is down, down in the darkest of alleys,
Where your tears flow away,
And those moments capture the colours divine,
When truth and love lets you cry…

You know the story of phoenix says,
You can never give up,
your fall is your birth,
You can never belong in despair…

Long yet beautiful journey,
it is still to come…
Failures won’t stop him,
who knows that mountains are like
Small humps of those roads,
that lead to home…
We who love that which gives us pain,
We who think of that which hurt us,
We who just know to be plain humans,
We know that there is nothing to be confounded about,
‘cos all our smiles lie across the oceans,
Like those waves infinite,
and those waves tell me that,
When your heart is open,
the voyage shall reach home…
And placid, the hearts shall rest...

© Karthik Adithya Singaraju

Songs and Life...

Listening to the songs, do we ponder,
We ponder, and meditate on the truth,
Truth that the song has spoken of…
But how much is written on the road
That runs through the mead and highland,
Journey has those songs,
Journey has those minds that come across the oceans,
Still I think the songs are never written in the actions
And actions in those songs are seldom sung through experience…

Still I try to speak and experiment,
The experiment, I try to do in my life,
I experiment the truth of the songs,
And see how it unfolds,
That is how I live, call me naïve,
Call me a dreamer, I say I wouldn’t mind,
Call me what you may,
But it is the song of olden woods and merriment,
it is the song of the olden truth and the olden man,
that I wish my life to sing…

© Karthik Adithya Singaraju

City ways...

Voices restrained, whispers often muffled
to hide the desperation in the silent screams…
The cities and those lonely pathways and dark alleys,
The stray dogs of this night’s calling,
the flowing drainage that stinks,
Funnily enough the images conjured
have become unbecoming to our soul,
Yet are our very own creations…

Welcome, welcome, this night,
Welcome to reality the unrealistic yet true,
Welcome here to this abbey of bliss
The softness of truth and the culture’s silent hue…

Embrace the truth, difficult yet that which creaks,
Break through, break through the mystifying veils
and be the one who speaks…
It’s difficult, much more difficult to listen,
Than to be herded, it has so been the case,
As you very well know, no one here lives their lives,
But leaves their life to flow along with others,
Polluting their ways through the city, as stinking sewage…

Now its laid out in front of you my friends,
Be the city’s tomfoolery and stink with each one of that who
Flows away their life in the rat race, or be that one, who stays,
Stays alone, never racing to reach the river and pollute it again,
Be the one, who stays and allows roses to grow in their place…

© Karthik Adithya Singaraju

Tarmac of the Soul...

On this tarmac, it touched down…
Yes, I didn’t expect it either,
Funnily enough it was a foggy day…
With all the faculties asleep or inert,
The vague light bottled up the midnight’s flight…

On this tarmac, this day it has made its journey,
I mean the journey’s end,
For the airplane can’t stay aloof to the runway for long…
Suddenly those engines were heard,
Unaware the meaningless jeeps below
crossed the perceived desolate tar roll…

And now, in the failing light,
Fog and few make up this fight,
Where coldness takes over the evasive night,
And amidst all the thoughts and trepidations of the heart,
Amidst all the impediments of the mind,
The winged angel from God’s own land,
The pondering beauty of the spirited hand,
That silent mistress, for me, who hangs on this pole,
Has touched down upon the tarmac of the soul…

© Karthik Adithya Singaraju

Answer...

If you find beauty in the East,
If you say you trust in darkness the least…
If you see me in the water’s reflection,
If you feel for me an unconditional affection…

Mystery is solved with faith,
Roads take you only so far,
Imagination is what helps find what is in the wait…
Eyes can show you only so far,
It is heart which teaches what is beyond the night…

Voice can only speak so much…
It’s the words which say all else,
which matter, but look, is it everything?
Expectations, wants, yearnings,
What is it that you are so restless about?

What do you seek?
Is it me?
Haven’t you heard me inside you,
Haven’t you tried to listen to those echoes,
That voice your fears, dark yet honest truth,
Which remain hidden yet known?

Have you tried to think of those echoes?
Have you echoed your thoughts in your heart?
Tell me, my dear, ink will only take you so far…
Why do you search for me?
Find me in you,
For I am you, you are me…

I am the possibility,
I am the probability,
I am the fate,
I am the destiny…
I am the hate,
I am the love, yet I am the old fat lies,
That make up your soul, of late…

Amongst the stars,
I fly like a ghost of light…
I am blackness of that hole,
I am the fire amidst the nothingness,
Yet, I am but the thirst of the young brigade…

You have searched for me far and wide,
Yet I see it is wiser,to calm down, sit down,
Breathe, and find me in that breath,
Find me in your life,
I am the slave of truth,
Yet happy to be bound to all that is free…
Find me, yes, find me boy, for all that shall,
And all that will, I am that which has and hasn’t been...
I am the one which you behold,
but I am the one which you can never hold...

© Karthik Adithya Singaraju