a dust storm

A dust storm and harsh wind..
looked out of my window, it was dusty but it wasnt hot...
the wind was running somewhere,
passing through the trees,
it was shouting that there was some rush...
the trees shook.
a few branches broke here and there.

i stared at my gulohar,
scared it would break a branch as well...
but all i saw was strength.
and thats the way he saluted the mighty wind.

the wind is easy now and its not dusty anymore.
my tree must be tired, though it doesnt look so.
why dont i understand the trees tonight?
they are not telling me anything ..
they are talking to the wind.
and the wind is speaking through them, through their branches and through their leaves...

The sky has an orange tint...
as if its laughing and turning red..
some say its rage...
i think its just strength.

it will rain in a while,
my gulmohar can smell it and so can i.

the sound of the wind rushing..
is reminding me of the swift Ganga gushing...
wasnt it the same sound?
the one who is singing is different...
maybe its composed by one.

Silent Birth

--Ruskin Bond

When the earth gave birth to this tree,

there came no sound:

A green shoot thrust

In silence from the ground.

Our births dont come so quiet-

Most lives run riot-

But the bud opens silently,

And flower gives way to fruit.

So must we serach

For the stillness within the tree,

The silence within the roots.

Confusion

Though I am made to see things clearly, as white and black… am mixing it all up.
Am being told what to do and what not to do, am still not listening to them.
I want to be on my own but I don’t want to regret later on as well.
Maybe I should just follow what is being said, and hold back my mind from wandering all around.
I can see things are going wrong and time is slipping away but I can also see that this is not the way I wanna go on. Maybe I should just follow what is being said, but I cant seem to be able to do so.
Then what will I be able to do? What do I want?
Am I doing anything at all ?
Am taking time… yes I am slow… so what? Cant I take my time, to learn?
Maybe its all wrong and am pushing away just what I need, but because I don’t realize it right now, doesn’t mean I will ruin it all… i might understand one day… will it be too late by then?
Am confused… but am taking delight in it…
I get frustrated but its exciting to figure it out…
There are a few things am sure of and I don’t want to lose them…
Am acting insane and as my parents say ‘irresponsible’ , but I dot really get it… lets hope I understand what I want some day….and its not too late by then…
Coz I wanna enjoy this world… I wanna spend hours just looking at my favourite trees and I don’t understand why I shouldn’t. I don’t feel am wasting my time when I do that… but why am I made to feel that I am? Why cant I think like everyone else? When will I ? or will I ever?

You have to love a lot to do something. To love passionately, you have to believe like crazy.

"Life...
To love, to be loved.
To never forget your own insignificance.
To never get used to the
unspeakable violence and vulgar
disparity of life around you.
To seek joy in the saddest places.
To pursue beauty to its own lair.
To never simplify what is complicated or complicate what is simple.
To respect strength, never power.
Above all, to watch.
To try and understand.
To never look away.
And never, never to forget. "
---- Arundhati Roy

He alone is great who turns the voice of the wind into a song made sweeter by his own loving.
-Kahlil Gibran

Pune. Its a populated city. So many people. Most of them look similar. Yes, most of them look the same. This fact may make you feel lonely in the crowd. Each person seems less individual here at times, than the trees here. Each time I walk on the roads, every tree has something different about itself. Bent in its own way. Growing in its own direction. Green in its own shade. Their branches extend in a rhythmic way, as if moulded, sculptured by sometimes smooth and sometimes harsh wind.
While walking on most of the roads here, when I look up, instead of being able to see an open sky, I see branches of trees from both sides of the road, joining above me. They form something like a net, through which I can see the blue sky.
If the road is a little wider, than I see the sky. World then seems like terrace of a high building.
But usually the roads i walk on here are narrow and so the sun is never troblesome.
And in the evenings when its dark, the wind moves and flows through these trees. The sky turns deep blue or purple. The trees against the dark sky, seem to be black or a very deep shade of green, brown,
World, that time seems like a painting.