Stranger, Sunrise, Pondicherry, Oblivion

You; Wandering Stranger

for Aparna S., whose letter prompted this sequence.


These hieroglyphs!
How would they make much sense to you?

Like verses were, would always stay
Unknown. Unknown like you
to me, like both of us
to each unknown. When you
might chance upon these hieroglyphs
upon this rock when wandering you
lose your way. And thus lost
in this old barren vale while you
start losing sense of time and space,

These hieroglyphs!
How would they make much sense to you?


A lot is said of love and life
of feelings known of pain of Ife

And all is lost in time’s parades
and all the more the more the strife

Then what is known might be unknown
to you this senseless wind in fife

But this might even calm your heart
heard in a restless moment rife


A stranger, that’s when you would be,
these verses would be strange to you
as life that stays thus strange to me.

When time these verses brings to you
do wonder how this bard had been,
now lost in text, in black and blue!

And maybe this might even mean
a lot and make a better sense
to you, than this had ever been


MY companions say we see you strange
’midst this folks, sans boon companion
i say nay! But folks are stranger
I’m in my world‒and this, direction!


These oblivions like the waves of sea
come gushing one upon another
crawling-like, but on a much more faster pace.

Like fishing canoe at the dawn leaves
the shore, heading out into
the majestic sunrise scene, is lost
in all this majesty;

I am but lost in mighty times
and are you so? Or are you yourself the majesty
which has been lost somewhere?!