Self-calling

that voice is intent on repeating your name
with utmost reverence
that voice is intent on shouting out loud for you
amidst the cryptic chaos
that voice is your only lullaby sometimes
when you are troubled by the silence
that voice is your well-wisher
that voice is your lover
that voice warms you like the sun,
that voice is also moon’s light
that voice knows you better than you do

that voice is your self-calling

Raindrops

From the cottony couches up above
that cling on to the infinite blue sheet,
fell the thick drops of rain
as I was walking down the lane.
Carried away by the fresh muddy smell
I kept standing, immobile, getting drenched,
imbibing the fluidity of life;
I continued walking with a smile on my face.

Watched over

All the time I bathed in ravenous rage
All the time I ceaselessly complained
All the time I beat myself with darkness
All the time I saw no good in myself
All the time I cried until my tears dried
All the time I thought life was worthless
All the time I consumed unconsciously
All the time I found faults in others
All the time I resented my decisions
All the time I wandered into the unknown:
Buddha watched me from afar and smiled.