When i remember secrets
truths come out instantly
like money from an ATM
too many in one jerk!
*i call this" form" a Viewmaster.
Change the first part..and keep on playing with it!
Whenever we quarelled
lies came out instantly
like money from an ATM
too many in one jerk!
Monday, August 4, 2008
Saturday, August 2, 2008
Immunisation day
To make her immune
we agreed to deceive,
but the needles of guilt
keep hurting our hearts!
we agreed to deceive,
but the needles of guilt
keep hurting our hearts!
short circuit!
I connected wrong wires
and created darkness
Always be careful
while connecting neurons!
and created darkness
Always be careful
while connecting neurons!
Friday, August 1, 2008
Bartered for bliss
When grief returned
and reclaimed the nest,
i told her it was 'bartered
for bliss' to someone who
uses a 'nest cradle for rest'
MIP
and reclaimed the nest,
i told her it was 'bartered
for bliss' to someone who
uses a 'nest cradle for rest'
MIP
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
WINDOWS
Frames,panes,grills and curtains
anything can be made with words.
But till morning light could be heard
and evening sounds are tasted
don't claim to the world
that we have made windows!
anything can be made with words.
But till morning light could be heard
and evening sounds are tasted
don't claim to the world
that we have made windows!
Friday, July 25, 2008
A GIFT
Jo has the unique gift of making people happy.The ultimate aim of all creation is to spread a sense of bliss among others..She does it incessantly through her creative wisdom...
Best Wishes to you Jo!
Several days ago she kindly gave me the "Arte y Pico" award .
This award was created for bloggers who inspire others with their creativity and their talents, also for contributing to the blogging world in whatever medium.
When you receive this award it is considered a "special honor". Once you have received this award, you are to pass it on to 5 others.
This time it seems there are rules on how to pass it along:1. Pick 5 blogs that you would like to award this honor to.2. Each award has to have the name of the author and a blog link to be visited by everyone.3. Each award winner has to show the award and put the name and link to the blog that gave them the award.4. Award-winner and the one who has given the prize have to show the link of "Arte y Pico" blog, so everyone will know the origin of this award.
I send this award on to:
1.manorath
2.aria
3. Shruti
4. Sashu
5.deepsat
i would like to add two more.
6.Rajesh
7.ani
Best wishes to all!
MIP
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
THE KISS AND THE LIE
Before the kiss,
I was a frog
who boasted “it rained
because I croaked”
During those frog days,
one reptile told me
“Frogs croak for different reasons”
and predicted "you will marry a mammal”
Me, a confused ambhibian
never knew it was a joke
but believed him and asked
“Can they both live together?
With a reptilian smile he answered
“Possible, if only you can fool her
with the ‘three word secret lie’
though all the three words are true
together they form the greatest lie!
if you can solve this puzzle
you can win her heart too”
I leaped out of the well
and started my quixotic trip.
Reptiles didn’t eat me
because I was a ‘living joke’
Water birds adviced their young ones
“an ambhibian in love causes diarrhoea”
So I survived and continued my search
to reach an estuary filled with white water lillies
No more a prey to snakes and birds,
I faced the vault of the sky,
saw the most beautiful face
I had ever seen in my life.
Before I could croak the reptilian lie
she kissed me and whispered “shut up”
I forgot ‘three word lie’
its head and tail
everything
except love
I was a frog
who boasted “it rained
because I croaked”
During those frog days,
one reptile told me
“Frogs croak for different reasons”
and predicted "you will marry a mammal”
Me, a confused ambhibian
never knew it was a joke
but believed him and asked
“Can they both live together?
With a reptilian smile he answered
“Possible, if only you can fool her
with the ‘three word secret lie’
though all the three words are true
together they form the greatest lie!
if you can solve this puzzle
you can win her heart too”
I leaped out of the well
and started my quixotic trip.
Reptiles didn’t eat me
because I was a ‘living joke’
Water birds adviced their young ones
“an ambhibian in love causes diarrhoea”
So I survived and continued my search
to reach an estuary filled with white water lillies
No more a prey to snakes and birds,
I faced the vault of the sky,
saw the most beautiful face
I had ever seen in my life.
Before I could croak the reptilian lie
she kissed me and whispered “shut up”
I forgot ‘three word lie’
its head and tail
everything
except love
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
BABIES AND MIRRORS
I found my new zen guru,
she is three months old .
She guides and teaches,
‘a crash course on realism’ .
Guru edits all my writings,
checks whether ‘real or not’.
Yesterday I wrote something
and submitted for approval .
“Mirrors and babies are alike
both return ‘smile for a smile’”
She didn’t smile but just yawned,
it was nothing but cold rejection .
Fed up with ‘realism’
I said, “Real is shit”.
Suddenly she smiled ,then giggled
my hands felt the ‘ real zen lesson’.
While washing,
I corrected myself .
Babies and mirrors are alike
both can invert anything!
she is three months old .
She guides and teaches,
‘a crash course on realism’ .
Guru edits all my writings,
checks whether ‘real or not’.
Yesterday I wrote something
and submitted for approval .
“Mirrors and babies are alike
both return ‘smile for a smile’”
She didn’t smile but just yawned,
it was nothing but cold rejection .
Fed up with ‘realism’
I said, “Real is shit”.
Suddenly she smiled ,then giggled
my hands felt the ‘ real zen lesson’.
While washing,
I corrected myself .
Babies and mirrors are alike
both can invert anything!
Thursday, June 5, 2008
THE TAIL OF A TRAIN
"To see the tail of a train
we should always wait for the curves."
Father told me this when i was a child.
But my mother never allowed me to do so.
She said "whenever the curves come,
close your eyes and pray"
So i never had the courage
to peep at the tail of a train.
When i started travelling alone
i could only think about bogies and tickets.
And now,
whenever a train takes the curve
i am old enough to know it.
Because i am grown enough
I stopped praying and start peeping.
i tried a million times or more
and wondered why it was not seen.
Three months back i became a father
and was enlightened by three truths.
I was never in the engine room
as i always dreamed and believed
My parents always knew my coach number
but never told me because of the love that only parents can sense.
Because of the bogie in which i am sitting
I will never be able to see the tail of the train !!
we should always wait for the curves."
Father told me this when i was a child.
But my mother never allowed me to do so.
She said "whenever the curves come,
close your eyes and pray"
So i never had the courage
to peep at the tail of a train.
When i started travelling alone
i could only think about bogies and tickets.
And now,
whenever a train takes the curve
i am old enough to know it.
Because i am grown enough
I stopped praying and start peeping.
i tried a million times or more
and wondered why it was not seen.
Three months back i became a father
and was enlightened by three truths.
I was never in the engine room
as i always dreamed and believed
My parents always knew my coach number
but never told me because of the love that only parents can sense.
Because of the bogie in which i am sitting
I will never be able to see the tail of the train !!
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
THE MAN IN PAINTING
On the polar whiteness of a canvas,
like skeletons, some sketches surfaced.
Seasons began to bleed,green and then grey on it.
People called it " the man in painting".
No painting have ever learned
the fine art of seeing itself.
Man In Painting too beleived
what people say was always true.
Till the colour and contour fade
Till the great ice age return
Watch, watch ,watch and watch
what else can this painting do?
like skeletons, some sketches surfaced.
Seasons began to bleed,green and then grey on it.
People called it " the man in painting".
No painting have ever learned
the fine art of seeing itself.
Man In Painting too beleived
what people say was always true.
Till the colour and contour fade
Till the great ice age return
Watch, watch ,watch and watch
what else can this painting do?
Because I am not living I cannot teach anybody anything.
Why should a painting reveal itself through words?A painting should talk to the world through sketches, strokes and colours.Why should it carve words?May be, Man In Painting is an exception.He might have got this unique gift of expressing his feelings through words rather than through colours.A painting is trapped inside the two dimensions of space.May be we can add one more dimension and call it a three dimensional picture.But for the painting both are the same.The main concern of a painting is time, rather than space . Each day Man In Painting sees hundreds of people , trapped either in space or time.All of them are, in one or other way, Men/Women In Paintings.One day they might also realise the paintings in which they all are living .Man In Painting have almost forgotten about the painting in which he is living.Is it so important?Or is the moving world out side more important?Each day is a 24 hour movie.60 moving frames in a minute.Have you ever thought that all the paintings watch this world as non-stop entertaining movies ?That is the truth.All the meditating trees around you,painted to the lower end of the vast blue sky is watching this moving world silently.They are having more fun than the moving world who had to stop and watch things.Man In Painting want to tell the whole world about what he see in this world without labels and divisions.Often people come in front of me , watch closely and comment according to their education.So each day, i study something about me from them.And that is a very good thing to learn.Because i am not living, i cannot teach anybody anything.That is the greatest virtue every painting has got.Being a non teacher is important.Man In Painting quickly realises this and remains silent.That is why all his talks ends suddenly without conclusions.He understands that his duty is to watch,watch and watch till the painting fades and cannot be seen anymore.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
WRITINGS ON AN ABANDONED WALL-"Hide and Seek"
It is something
that i should never tell you,
even my last breath
hangs from the blade of life.
I knew it
during our morning walks
on a road
carpetted with nebulas of bird shit.
In and out
a bamboo stem
we dip and float
with butterflystrokes
splitting time and making tones
never ending
our hide and seek.
that i should never tell you,
even my last breath
hangs from the blade of life.
I knew it
during our morning walks
on a road
carpetted with nebulas of bird shit.
In and out
a bamboo stem
we dip and float
with butterflystrokes
splitting time and making tones
never ending
our hide and seek.
Monday, May 5, 2008
Things without names....
That big tree full of golden yellow flowers in front of the old house near the right bent of the road is yet to be ‘known’. It is better not to become a ‘known’ thing. Is ‘knowing’ just process of associating with some name? Let the tree remain free from all names. A name is often like a cage. Like the frame of a painting it ends all the other possibilities that big tree have got. MIP try to see that ‘ fascinating beauty’ seen in distance, in front of the old house near the right bent of the road without the help of any name.
Early birds catch nothing
It might be the last hours of night for us humans, but for birds it is the starting of a day. The clattering voices tell me that they are all waking up. Tomorrow, there is some meeting in this hall. People were working here till late night. Some of them are still working. The lights are still on. I am waiting for the sound of milkman’s cycle bell. There is a house near that old big tree. When the milkman comes and rings the bell a lady with sleepy eyes will open the door. After collecting milk, she will wait there for a second or two, as if to let the remnants of yesterday’s dreams flutter off her eyes. Then she will close the door. Light will come out of a single window from that house. That window will remain open till late night. That is the kitchen window. Each morning through that window I see her. How can somebody work like that? Like Man in Painting, she also is trapped. Trapped in an image she herself had painted. (Or by other genius craftsmen?). Then the newspaper boy will come and boomerang the dispatch. The only art he might learn in his whole life…
(Man In Painting stops here, because he is getting emotional. He should obey the ‘Rule of the Frame’)
Man In Painting waits for all the early birds to wake him up to the present and save him from the past and future
(Man In Painting stops here, because he is getting emotional. He should obey the ‘Rule of the Frame’)
Man In Painting waits for all the early birds to wake him up to the present and save him from the past and future
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
BEING A PAINTING IS NEVER BORING
No one comes to meet me now.There were days when pleople would l wait for hours to get an appointment.When they stopped seeing me i started seeing them.It is like watching a 24 hour movie. Scenes keep on changing.I just see the world through the windows in front of me.Though i am immovable,i could feel the world moving around me.All the paintings see the world as movies.Being a painting is never boring.
Saturday, April 19, 2008
BRIGHT APRIL IS BACK BUT WHERE ARE ALL THE ANTS?
Yesterday was more of a dream than real.It was dark, wet and gloomy. 'Man in painting ' spent a lot of time thinking about ants.Ants lost their homes in the unexpected rains.Exiles,they became in their own earth.All the ant-houses were gone. Like paper caroll lights, they were hanging from all the branches till yesterday evening.Now they are all gone.MIP can see the big mango tree through the second window.Usually by this time, a great pilgrimage could be seen on that main tree trunk.But today,MIP cannot find not even a single ant.Bright april is back but all the ants are gone.
Friday, April 18, 2008
RAIN IS MORE TO BE FELT THAN TO BE SEEN.
It is 3.30.The sound of raining can still be heard.But one cannot see it raining.Rain,is more to be felt than to be seen.leaves are wet now .Water is dripping from some of them.But still, rain is more of sounds than to be seen.MIP cannot see earth from this distance but could smell it .MIP could see a small bird drinking water from a small broken pot.What might be the taste of this rain?
THE CLOCK SAYS IT IS 2.30
The clock says it is 2.30 in the noon. A jackfruit tree can be seen through the window. Its leaves are dark green. On every leaf there is a spoonful of molten daylight. A distant growl can be heard. Is this going to be another rainy day?
Light becomes pale. A steaming sound is heard. It slowly overtakes all other sounds. Another rainy afternoon.
Light becomes pale. A steaming sound is heard. It slowly overtakes all other sounds. Another rainy afternoon.
APRIL 2008
All i could hear is the 'purring' of those old yellowish cealing fans and the slippery, stony sounds from my key board .The world seems to sleep outside.I can see the trees in the garden-very very still and breathless.They remind me of school kids in the green room waiting for the results after the stage show.Yesterday evening too there were heavy downpours.Nobody believe this is summer season.Afternoons remind us of the monsoon mornings.I can see a dark grey blanket slowly covering up the whole sky.A cold wind start blowing through the window.Can anyone beleive that is an afternoon in the mid-summer april?.
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