valentine day

अक्सर होता है ऐसा 
लफ़्ज़ रूठ जाते है सभी 
अक्सर तभी 
जब दिल लबरेज़ हो 
अहससातों से 
ज़बान साथ नहीं देती तभी
मेरी ख़ामोशी के ये फूल
क़बूल कर लो तुम
ये कहते है वो सब
जो मेरा दिल कहना चाहता है
लेकिन दिमाग़ मानता नहीं
आज फिर ख़ामोश हूँ मैं ...
-विनी
१४/२/१६
(वैलेंटायन डे था और फूल दे रहे थे सभी...)

The Dance

The Dance 
I thought that when one danced the waltz, she said,
One simply followed where led, 
Willingly Suspended disbelief, 
And let the music do the rest, 
And? He said, that's not how it is ?
She sighed, it's more like a battle of wits,
A step forward inevitably followed by two backwards,
Leaving one suspended in space,
Cautiously matching pace,
Folding agonising angularities into pleasing shape,
Struggling to obliterate
The movements, the sounds, the smells,
That share that space,
All senses ablaze,
I so wish, she said,
That closing my eyes could,
Make the world fade away,
Leaving just you and me,
Dancing at will,
Ah, he said,
This is what I understand,
The world may indeed fade away,
But who is to say,
That the forward and the backward,
May mirror our lives,
And that we'd be caught waltzing
To the tunes that time played,
From the nadir to the crest,
There really may be no escape.
-Vinny
12/2/16

Voices III

Voices III



You have such a way with words, he said, 
For I have heard your words speak in many tongues, 
Unspoken ,When pensive, suspended on sighs,
Unfurl like the white mists,
Wrap themselves around me,
Cold, unforgiving, all obliterating,
I have also heard them sing,
Mellifluous,soft, lilting,
When elation thrills the senses,
When light banishes the dark,
When joy lights little fires within,
I often hear them in the spaces in between,
At their craft of voicing the intended,
Pausing, the unsaid, pregnant with meaning,
Suspended in time, waiting to be read ,
I hear you ponder, debate the intent
The content,
Weigh the phrase for effect,
And I wonder,
Do you know that you let slip,
A thousand words from between your lips,
Discarded unused,
That seep through the threshold of my awareness,
And find their meaning with me ?
-Vinny
26/1/16!

A Haze

A Haze
I have felt you 
Peer at me, bleary eyed, 
In the wake of my dreams, 
And have felt you, 
Seep through the agony of my tears,
Much like the thought that comes unbidden,
Drenched, wet in the realisation of pain,
I have felt you,
Insidious, hidden in the smile
That broke forth unbridled,
Moist with memory of rain,
Fragrant with pleasure,
And I have felt you
Look askance and look away,
Quick, in the beat of an heartbeat,
That slippery gaze,
Soaked, in a query, a foggy haze,
Oh, I have felt you,
In many many ways...
-Vinny
4/12/15

See Saw

See Saw 
Your moods swing, he said,
I know not why, I know not whence,
But, I often catch myself mulling the nadir,
From the edge of the crest!
For one follows the other,
Just as sure as night follows the day.
Ah ! She said ,
But do you not see,
That butterflies flutter insanely when the spiral downwards be,
And the cresting wave frames my ringlets just right, with florescent delights,
That one can catch the sighs suspended midway,
When one reaches out a giggly hand mid flight !
My dear ,the see saw you see,
is just a game i play with glee...
-Vinny
1/12/15

Gestalt

Gestalt 
I am keeping count, he said, 
Of the colours you use and imbue, 
A one and a two and a three, 
The green, as green as that tree, 
The florid pinks and the deep deep violet and the lavender new,
Fuchsia, lime and the White,
So true!
The brilliant reds, the muddy yellows and all hues of blue,
But why? She said, the count of the one the two and the three?
To discern, he said, which one is the real thee,
Ah ! But they all little extensions of me be,
You see, together they sew up the whole, that's me ...
-Vinny
2/12/15

Enchantment

Phir usee bewafa pe marte' hain,
Phir wahi jindagi hamaree hai... 😀

Enchantment
I lose myself in our conversations, he said, 
Like the tiny bubbles that rise,
Effervescent from a drink,
My senses seem drunk to the brim,
What is this magic you spin ?!
Me? she said, My wand was stolen a while ago,
And my memory knows no more, the sequence of things,
You mistake the patina for the real thing.
No , he said, I still see the imprint,
Primordial lessons of the little things,
The soft touch that thrills the heartbeat,
The whisper that in their harmony, sings,
The tress that twines, as if a string,
You need no wand, you enchanting being!
That is just your imaginations' fecundity, she said,
I do no such thing,
May be it's you who weaves, these magical spells you perceive,
Maybe they are a function of your being!
Or perhaps I am a palimpsest,
One can never quite rub out an imprint,
perhaps that is a wondrous thing,
Or Perhaps your potions, exhume,
She who once was a bewitching nymph!
-Vinny
3/12/15