Vagabonds and the Highway...

I see him and her walking past...
I can see them walking past...
I can see everyone walking past...
Yes,I was here long before,
I remained here when everyone else learnt to walk
and now they run,run fast,agility evident,
thirst to suck the life out of their time,
everyone runs...
Everyone competent from humble beginnings,
competent in their present positions...
All fast vibrant entities...
Purpose,goal and direction,
all set their wheels in motion...
I seem to be stuck,in this quagmire,
my own impeding mind...
I am not moving,
Have become a bystander,
on that long lonely highway,
who realises that no vehicle stops here forever,
for you...
All move on,
none wait,none bother,in this fast road,
if other vehicle moves or not...
I for now have become that vehicle whose engine
doesn't talk...
Hoped that those who stop,
those who stopped by,
remain and help me get a move on...
But now I see,none shall stop for you,
none was meant to do so...
I if have to make a journey,
have to do it myself...
On a Highway,I am but a Vagabond,
of no home,no friends, no noone...
And vagabonds make a journey of their own,
or perish stagnant as bystanders...
Now I see,those who stopped longest,who came from behind,
those who have been here and making journey further,
all driving at greater speeds,while I wait
hoping some will provide me with reparation and lifeline...
Ah,foolish me,this impertinent stagnancy is taking its toll,
stayed stationary long enough,
I wish now to get a move on..
Highway is for Vagabond to travel,
and this chapter taught,
will serve me well I believe...

© Karthik Adithya Singaraju

Sonnet at Dusk...

Sounds of treason echoing your dread,
mind and thy heart hanging by that thread...
And I see,that person reach out screaming,
altering the voice,and the meaning...

Gauging the waters,have I stayed at beach so long,
depths of those oceans,never felt or written into my song...
Distant echo of a hollow sound,
and cruel reality of the blackened mound...

Greater truth laid down by your way,
but the stubborn fearful mind refuses to sway...
And I gasp for breath with a song in my heart,
which asks for deliverance through this burning art...

God helps those,who listened to what he said,
and went their way,in time, realising it was all in their head...

© Karthik Adithya Singaraju

Alchemy of Mind...

Words,the literary ether,
the life in the forest of humanity...
I still remember those days,
sitting down in the cozy dark corner,
with a book in hand,
shifting slightly,whenever a leaf turned...
Or else,those rain-drenched nights,
where you lay,with a warm blanket,
turning either sides,
at the turn of each page...
A book,a paper,
a friend,whom you carried around...
That friend,whose presence
made the most weary lecture,
pleasurable...
The physical proximity,
the lexical connection,
the informal extension of formal existence...
Under the glares of commuters,
beneath the blaring traffic,
beyond the rising lead,
in that dilapidated rocky bus,
Ye helped me find solace...
Transported to magical realms of Middle Earth,
riding with Harry on the centaur,
or maybe talking to Sapphira,the blue dragon...
You never left me to despair in harsh poison of reality...
My lungs burnt less in that smoke,where
my mind so carelessly soared...
Then when,it was time to come back,
and give the earthly pleasures a thought,
Wordsworth,showed Words' worth...
I know of England,I know of its flowers,
I know of Khashi,and its incessant showers...
I know,not because I have seen them in day,
but because I have flown over them,while it was just here that I always stayed...
And then there came Chaucer and Pope,
bringing with them Renaissance and its hope...
And Coleridge passed silently by,
with Keats leaping about,
singing what he knew on earth,
and then they passed by...
Sinister mind of Hitler,
and cold intellect of Kipling passed,
Shirley and Yeats,barely surpassed...
And when these poets and writers departed,
taking Europe and States,and Asia with them,
I sat conversing with my thoughts undefined,
till there came a stroke of unknown design...
Formed into words,were my mind's dances refined,
Structured have I this poetry with humility,
as an Ode for the Divine...
Singing the glories of the thoughts of those wild,
and mourning the progress we men made so mild,
I take your leave hoping for a miracle,and thus I resign...

© Karthik Adithya Singaraju

Meditation on Yared's Violins...

The cold pressure of the fan,
Yared's violins in my ear...
I look through the pages inside...

The pen in my hand,rests...
It has a blank page to fill...
Searching,earnestly,my mind,
switches to faster speed...

Drums are beating,
mourning the death,
and the tempo lowers...

Yes,Yared agrees,
hero is gone...
Elegiac tunes echo in piano...

Woman,clad in black,
a single tear on her cheek,looks...
A silence,
mute,dark,smooth silence...

A silence whose music,
remains unparalleled,save by the slow retreat
of that long bow over violin chords...

Yes,I am listening,
intent meditation on the stringed God,
and I wonder at the miracle...

You see,silence engulfs the music,
music engulfs the silence...
And I float in that ether,
raised...
Silence and sound,divine synonyms,
brought to my mind...

The slow lament finishes,
Yared rests,and I see,
my page filled...

© Karthik Adithya Singaraju

One last blessing...

The lonely stretches,ahead,windy and foreboding....
The road,speaks long unfolding story..
I want to leave,
I want to go...
I want to witness the majesty...
August decorations,impeded by honest trepidations...
Preparations for that life,
that journey,had set in motion,
my subliminal processes,
long ago...
I itch to explore,
I yearn to seek...
Impediments of doubt,yet stopping,
live swarms of humane buzzers....
Buzzing caution,
and my mind yielding ever and again to the precaution....
The hat is worn,
the food and clothe packed away,
and the stick that supports me in the journey I yearn to take,
well held tightly in my hand...
All that I wait,
under the auspicious evening,
is for that one last blessing...
The road lies ahead,
the home fallen behind...
All that I care and concern is for the feet stuck beneath...
All that I wish,
all that I wait for is one last blessing...
A blessing for a beginning....
A blessing of the first step...

© Karthik Adithya Singaraju

A moment inside...

Listen,hear those chords...
Believe,trust and might
as well wait...
Ease,at ease,
calm your wavering mind,
listen to your heart,
pleasant light falling,
peace in that breath...
Listen,hear those chords...
Hear,there is nothing,
nothing in you...
Void,black depths of nothingness...
That trance,
that ethereal extension of your being...
Darkness,no,it is not dark,
it is black...
A deep hole,
fire beneath...
Flames,now lower,yet so lower,those red beasts...
That spasm of images,
that spiralling chaos,
black hole in the centre,pulling,
pulling with all its might,
deep within it,trance of the deep well...
mud bricks lining the walls,
dirtied,yet smooth,
the beautiful waterfall,
the dirty mosses beneath the smoothed rock
behind the clothe of water...
That girl,falling,
falling,or rather jumping bride,
with flowers in her braid,
and before touching the dark waters beneath,
inside the well,
she hits a bed of white light,
foggy,misty brilliant sparkling light,
merges into the light...
You are pulled back,
back to the brim of the well,
and there he stands,the sage in black robes,
the man with long silky beard,white as the snow,
his deep reddened eye-bags,showing his anger
at your ignorance,and he throws flaming,
white flaming card,which merges with the light yet again,
inexplicable,
and a square sheath of of light passes,
through time and space...
It comes,and hits a body of white light,
no,it is a human,yet not entirely so...
It is a human sitting on a chair...
But not a human indeed,
a body of light...
The room around him,dark rectangular...
And there are bodies of light around him,
holding white hands of light...
Of all shapes and sizes,
floating in a circle around him...
They watch the sheath of light hit this human...
Illuminated,yet more intense,he glows...
The crown glows even more,
and as I watch,
the crown bursts,
Spraying a fountain of white light...
But this time,those are rays,
rays sourced in the human's crown,
Rays,beaded,red,blue,green and black...
All shining,sparkling,glowing...
They rise in the fountain,and they descend,
fall on the ground,
bounce away in straight lines in all directions...
I am watching,and some come,
some hit me...
I am watching in darkness,
And these rays of sparkling brilliant light,
come and hit me...
I fall down,because of their immense power,
then everything goes mute,
and I rise from the chair,
in the middle of a rectangular dark room,
rain splashing outside,in the midnight...

© Karthik Adithya Singaraju

A fool's hope and reward...

First they say it with ease,
then they try to please...
I saw not in those lurking shadows,
I missed the light in the darkness of the untrue...
Yet,in these flimsy depths,
yet amidst the silt that pulls me back,down,
in these green waters,
I try to swim back to surface,and to light....
And yes,there rose a devotion for that divinity,
but saw not my slavery.
Yes,had no interest in my royalty,
for I saw,in royalty one seldom reaped joy,
leading a hapless life of unconcerned responsibility,
which royalty teaches you to ignore...
Now rebelling,I have fled...
I escape the nests of night,
crawling those crevices of agony,
seeping poison into my lungs,
I escaped,
tried to get to the truth....
But the truth has led me into this darkness....
This dark tunnel,which my rebellion
has destined my journey to end at...
I know not,if it were for the devotion,
or for the faith...
Long forgotten those water and air of my life,
lay beside me,
half covered in dust,and half forsaken by my soul...
And when this faith wavers or shatters,
still I will move,I shalt move,
for I am sure,hope remains...
A fool's hope,as was said once wisely...
This quest for the untrue,
this quest to sneak out of what I am,
or what I shall be,has brought me back,
but to the surface yet again,
no,not quite yet,
but still amongst the creeping ivy,I see...
Beyond these tunnels of silted water,
There lies,what I have long sought...
It seems wondrous indeed,
that after days of search,and research,
and such desperate yearning for truth,
you shalt,but return to whence you began...
Yes,what you perceive is true my friend,
I am back home...

© Karthik Adithya Singaraju