Poet On a Motorbike...

Welcome to a world of pleasure and relaxation... a literary art gallery which aims to engage ones spirit....

Monday, 31 January 2011

The Clown

He smiles, the mysterious man,
Tremors of waves crash deep inside
His face covered in black and white.

The joy reaps around
Mysterious cries spawn fairy-tales
They come in need,
They come in despair
To the man who makes them laugh

He smiles, the mysterious man,
Tremors of waves crash deep inside
His face covered in grey and white
Buried in have all his sorrows
Insanity that serves his masquerade
The somber song that plays within
So numb to the rest.

He cries, the mysterious man
Tears that vanish in the rain
Inspired by “Mar adentro”

Monday, 24 January 2011

I could be your......

Sways you, does her plastic smile
Velvet eyes that hypnotize you
Run away with her, you do
Only to be stranded ashore.

A dance into your heart, she does
Folded up you like a paper cup, has she
She leaves you for a broken guitar
The kaput melody did she crave for?

A puppet in her burgeoning fingers, is you
She plays you for a fool, does she?
Unimaginative and blind she’s left you
She smiles and off you go chasing again. Oh you do …

Inspired by White town – Your woman

Tuesday, 18 January 2011


Wings to fly, I could do without
Without roads to unravel, I could go on
Without the green plains, I would persist
Without dreams, where would I begin

They’d haunt me, the violet skies
The bitter cold would torture me
The darkness could embody me
Dreams, they’d give me a new lease of life.

Torn pages, stories would have
Dried would have all the oceans
Solemn maybe the music
Dreams are all I’d have

Sunday, 2 January 2011

The City of Ruins

Monday, 13th Dec , 7:00 am
It’s bitter and dry, as our trusty ride slowly trots into our shed. Amidst the tiredness and the restlessness there is a distinct feeling of triumph. We had travelled more than 800 km’s in just over two days; finally we had visited the City of Ruins. I look at my mate, and I remark “it will call us back; it will call us back.”
As we unpack the gear and all the spoils, loathing the idea of going to work, I suddenly realize that our baby is missing, my cam, my Canon EOS 1000d. A feeling of dizziness hovers over me, I collapse to the floor. Slowly it sinks in that she’s lost; we’d left her at a Dhaba which was our last pit stop. I feel broken and torn, not knowing what to do. My mate suggests that we go back and search for her; it seemed the only logical thing to do. So we turn back 400 km’s, hoping, somehow that she was still there, waiting.
Friday,10th Dec,5:00 pm
A lazy day at work trots along, I relish the fact that the weekend is almost around the corner. A call from my house mate puts me in sixth heaven; he proposes the idea of heading to the estranged city of ruins – Hampi.  The very thought of going to the place puts me in state of utter bliss.
Saturday,11th Dec,3:30 am
The plan is set and game is on, after a few rounds of refreshments we set forth to a place which had the tag of being a photographer’s haven. And there was nothing more I’d relish. My life was in turmoil and this was my way out, a way out from all the heart breaks and uncertainties. We screeched forth in our chariot to a place where time stood still for decades. The very route to paradise was in itself a special sight; the yellow paddy fields, the green lakes, the sunflower gardens, the grey mountains, the peace, and the serenity. This was truly heaven. Tired and bruised we finally arrived at our destination, and immediately a sense of excitement captured us.
We started our pilgrimage at the river side ruins. We then embarked on a boat journey to an island, which was the retreat for all the party goers and fun lovers. We hired mopeds which took us around the amazing place that is hampi, which turned out to be such a paradox. In the wee hours of the next day we embark on our mission to cover the whole of Hampi in less than four hours. So we proceeded, all dressed up in the traditional attire, to take in the magical place. What followed was, being part of one of the most picturesque locations in the world. We left our mark everywhere, and where there were no paths, we made our own. It was as if Hampi had never seen something like us, we gave that place a new life, and people envied our vigor, style and our panache, and our crazy antics forced the people to fall in love with us. The clouds, the people, the ruins, and the boulders everything told you a different story. We were having the best times of our lives. We felt like absolute Rock Stars!! 

The Rudraksha U-turn

At the temple of V, my mate lightheartedly asks me if there was any superstition associated with the rudraksha.  I then proceed to burden him with all the superstitions associated with the brown beads. About its power, to shower both, good and bad karma. Of course at the end of the lecture I encouraged him to wear it because I never passed down an opportunity to test beliefs and faiths.
An overdose of Bad karma is what followed us. My mate immediately got ill. Our return back was hampered by a traffic obstruction that ran for miles. Frustration seeped in and my mate threw a beer bottle which trashed the car’s window. The whole humor changed and we had temper tantrums. We drove silently through the night; everyone hated each other’s guts by this time.  Finally we stopped at the cursed dhaba to engage in a feast. The spirits rejuvenated us. And so with our hearts and our tummies filled, we slowly retreated. We bid adieu and set forth. Amidst all the drama, the laughs, the pain, the happiness and the commotion we forgot her. All our memories, the pleasantries, moments of glory all snatched away from us in a moment of madness.
Monday 13th Dec,5:00 pm
The search for the camera was futile; we had travelled all of 400 km’s back without a wink to search for her. The very little hope of finding her, tarnished in the tears. I somehow found the courage to get back in the sack and ride all the way back, with the realization that she was gone forever.
So how did it happen, was it just plain bad luck, coincidence, or the butterfly effect? Would it have ended differently if my mate wasn’t ill and we dint have to pit stop at the dhaba, what if the truck hadn’t tipped over 10 kg’s of sugarcane on the road which caused the traffic hazard. What if my mate hadn’t broken the window, maybe we would have left her in the car? What if we had left a bit early after we broke for lunch? What if ???
Certain moments that come rushing to my mind when I think about the place, the pictures .....
the innocent  smile of little Kavya..that angel whom we met at the breakfast inn.
Lydia’s spirit …oh boy wasn’t she amazing; the gorgeous Dutch was more than captivating, in short time we had become such good mates.
The Egyptian dance we performed at the artistic stepped tank in front of hundreds of spectators; Trespassing into the sunflower field; Sipping beer while watching the sunset at the lake.
Me and Majnu venturing out into the chaos, to initiate clearing the sugarcane mess from the road, which ultimately cleared the whole traffic block. We stood in front of massive trucks unphased, unnerved asking them to cooperate with fixing the mess. Slowly people joined us and finally the path was clear. We walked away heroes with our heads held high, with people chanting our names in praise.
We took a solemn pledge that we would go back to Hampi, to pay our respects, for the one that was lost. But deep inside you know that there are only a few moments that you can recreate. The rest will forever be lost in time. But this wouldn’t stop us; after all she was out baby.
We would go back to the city that remained frozen for 700 years with our lost memories buried within it.

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