Do not be satisfied with the stories that are told to you. Unfold your own myth – Rumi.

Poetry

I find your love

Night in the Capital

Like traces of mayo
on a light spread
I find your love
peeking through
on hidden corners
of my tongue

Like rays of sunlight
in a lost mosque
in Old Delhi
I find your love
glowing
in the sudden warmth
on my face

Like the hard pinch of salt
left behind
after a morning near the sea
I find your love
holding fort
on my dried skin

Like the faint scent of coffee
in Mylapore side streets
I find your love
seeping through
the filter of my lips

Like the whispers
of sleepy children
in grey classrooms
I find your love
in the tremor
of my faltering voice

Like set stones
in a night sky
pierced with stars
I find your love
in slow glistening
sweat
on my forehead

Like the memories
of a cold winter
recalled, celebrated
I find your love
in the long-withered flowers
on my grave.

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The Search..

Update – I won the YouthExpress ScribeHunt prize for this poem in mid-2012.

This poem was inspired by the Crusaders’ search for Jerusalem during the middle ages. As they tried to cross the desert towards the holy land, they had only one companion – their faith.
This is my imagination of it…

The Darkness engulfs me as I ride through the night,
I hold my sword near, as if I’m in a fight,
But these are my own demons I run madly from,
Will this never end, will I ever see the light?

My fears gallop faster than my steed,
Floodwaters in my mind that never recede,
The night’s silent, but I hear its voice,
What are you searching, what do you need?

I ride faster; I cut through the mist,
My throat runs dry, I clench my fist,
An icy wind blows across the land,
I implore my heart – Please Resist.

I do not know what I’m searching for,
Is it fame; is it glory, or something more?
Is it immortality, or the curse of it?
Or is it Eden, like the tales of yore?

I turn back to peer into the void behind,
Winds swirling the sand of time,
Terror grips me as I turn around,
Is something chasing me, or is it in my mind?

I turn around, on the dunes I stand,
A speck of life on a barren land,
But nothing appears from the brown haze,
The infinite desert remains bland.

There was something there, I could have sworn,
Whatever it was, it seems gone.
I move on in the punishing terrain,
I trudge forward, and wait for the dawn.

Pain ebbs and flows, like storms on the sand,
As I keep looking for hope, a golden strand,
But it’s still dark and cold as ice,
In my lonely search for the Holy Land.