harleen kaur maan, 25 january 2012
I heard
someone saying that there is nothing for you that can be in dearth
There was
this little girl, Mira who loved you since her birth
That night
was the herald of changes with your incarnation
It really
proved to be the tomb of evil and their relations
Levees of
Yamuna trying to retire from their duty
O Giridhar ,
Sanwariya, Nandh Lal-you are more than a deity….
When my ammi
combed my hair with her fingers you were there… singing
My grandma
kissed my forehead and you were there….blessing
My grandpa
advised me and you were there reflecting his gaze
My brother,
friends teased me, your mischief thriving through them
Travelling
in a rickety bus, a cool breeze brushed my face as your affectionate touch
putting me at ease
I could
understand a language I never knew talking to this stranger because it was your
language we were conversing in
Your smile
sailing through the smile of the stranger
Watching an
infant sleep, a soft smile on his face with you there making it more beautiful J
Plants full
of dust in summer and then it rained as you helped them bathe
I sit down
and breathe with you all around guiding me to follow a path so unique…..
harleen kaur maan, 30 december 2011
A sweetly exotic tale as I was taught life would be, it’s not
You told me how beautiful everything can be, but forgot to tell me how to ignore the evil
You kindled excitement in me about the new journey without telling me that I would be betrayed…
Claws of tradition trying to ensnare me back, I can see their rolling eyes
Looking at the sun, I can only think about the ring of fire surrounding it
Still trying to be flamboyant I have complaints
Happiness seems to meet me in disguise; I am unable to recognise my heart
Breaking all the relations, I am leaving everything behind
Becoming insane in your love I am ready to bury my old self
All I know is that only your glimpse can save me from this suffering
When both of us existed nothing happened
Now that “you” are, “I “am not
When” I “am, “you “are not
As we are one at the moment
People celebrate festivals meeting their family and friends
They spend time together; have puddings, new clothes to grace the occasion
But “your maid” just wants to touch your feet by putting her head down
You drove me mad, I am sick of this disease called love
The things which have your soulprints have become priceless for me
I have come at your doorstep, intoxicated by your memories
Again I can seek solace by meeting you in my dreams…..
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