Why Love?

What is love if it can't strike your heart like a lightening bolt
While you stand drenched under its raining passion?
What use is then of fondness and loving
If there is no depth, there is no falling?
What use is of the warmth in embraces
When there is no melting of heart, no melting in arms?
And what use is of looking in the direction of your beloved
Without any longing, without saying anything?

Seasonal Happenings

Last night I spiraled my way to a long lost summer afternoon
And saw myself walking amid bright reflections
There were silhouettes of every thing and every being
And bright sunshine embarked a new spark in our eyes as I walked towards him.

A silent reel rolled heavily on my mind
All dooms were forgotten, as all the beauty revived
In the silent corners of that heart
Which has now learned the art of desiring.

And as with those thoughts I went back to sleep
The flower of fancies unblossomed
The seeds returned to their dormancy
And a lot got embedded back in the depths, unkeen.

But look what I found on waking up—
Invariably a beautiful winter morning.

Internal Happenings

There are fragmented moments in the distances between us
Where I keep on traveling to and fro, from myself to you,
And then back to myself —
With an unquenchable longing
To be with you again.

There are molecular spaces where I feel your absence
When you are just a step apart
Looking away in your own eternity.

There are warm silences when your breath departs
In all the other directions
Where I long to be.

There are unhappened conversations between us happening
While sipping coffee in my solitude,
Compounded in me.