[As I was waiting
for some poems, stories and paintings from Shyamali for the next issue
of 'Akashdiya', I received the sad news. She was found hanging from
the railing of the office staircase. All those whys.....all those
wishes - if only we got some hints and if only we could save her,
somehow.....
My best friend
Shyamali has slipped away from my life. I will not ever be able to
touch her smile, I will not ever be able to share her tears. I will
just have the fragrance of her sweet-peas, her jacaranda strewn paths
and her blue clouds......
-Kalyani Rama ]
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DIAMONDS
FOREVER
Diamonds
in my palms
I slowly drop into the waters
My most precious posession
Gone forever
Yet everytime the sunlight
Sparkles on the waters
My diamonds show up -
Dazzling, sparkling jewels..
Diamonds forever
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DESERT RAIN
Rain does not come to the Desert
The Desert revels in its heat and dryness
It wears its hot, dust cloak
And walks amidst its thorny garden
The desert is not unhappy..
Until that one night of the thunderstorms
When the storm clouds strayed -
When it rained, and
The Desert knew for the first time
What thirst meant.
Engulfed by the silken, wafty, breeze,
And the Divine smell of the rainclouds..
The Desert was enraptured.
Ever since then, the Desert
Is terribly Unhappy
It wishes it wasn't a desert
It wishes it was
The Green Cherrapunji Hills
Where the rain comes unfailingly
Year after year after year.
The dusty cloak it has worn
All its life, feels coarse and hurts
The Desert tries to throw it away, but can't.
It cannot forget the rain
And waits for it once more.
Waits for eons, for eternity, for infinity -
For the Desert cannot forget
That one mystical night.
It lies on its back, Night after night
And stares at the couldless, empty skies.
The skies look down, harsh and unforgiving.
Rain does not come to the Desert
That is the Law of Nature.
Then why, that once, was it broken?
The Desert is unhappy - it frets
And tries to walk away from itself -
But it still cannot
Walk to the Rain..
Rain should never have come to the Desert.
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DREAMS
A dying moon hangs
from an ashen sky ...
Time stands still -
in a colourless frozen world
Dreams unwoven ;
Words unspoken;
A hopeless heart, yet unbroken....
Twilight on the horizon
Holds the promise
Of something.......
Something magical
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COLOURS
OF LIFE
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White ? the
colour of a rainbow Caught inside a bubble.
Or the freshness after washing in a
mountain stream?
Yellow is warm Sunshine and Flowers swaying in the breeze.
Could it also be The colour of A
heart-warming, Unadulterated smile?
Blue, a soulful song emanating from The impossible horizon
where the sea
and sky meet.
Or the intoxicating, mysterious Night
draping her misty shawl over our
eyes?
Orange ? an unfulfilled passion - A flame lit, yet not burnt
Or is it the sweet, tangy taste of pain
With the promise of honey to
come?
Green ? the moss trying to hide Secrets within his velvety robe
Or is it an intelligent eye Twinkling
with the knowledge of life?
But life is Red - sometimes Blood drips painfully; sometimes
throbs with
life
Yet , sometimes as meaningless as colourless rubies Brimming in
the corner
of an eye.
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A¡L¡nc£u¡
1m¡ ¯hn¡M, 1410
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