Whispers

Ever slowly, pictures flash frames of joy, shots of anguish across my mind they appear and vanish. Inspired by nature and earth, I write and create. Image from www.victoriantradingco.com

I stand alone among fields, facing mighty mountains to the east, kissing the whispering breeze, gazing at the borderless sky, Now and then sheeps stop by, resting under my open arms, nibbling away the lush grass, chatting animal tales, while sleeps a lazy shepeard dreaming of woollen bundles gifted from heaven, at his doorstep. Grey clouds showering rain, mid-day sun warming the land, winds arising from hills afar, I grow stronger with them. Beacause of nature I exist, in nature I merge myself, for, what exists on earth distinct from Mother Nature?

Silent garden, noises none, works the spider weaving one crazy web of threads thin, spreads the maze, sparing none. Behind this web, gardens widen, beyond which zooms a world driven by speed and progress interwoven, spreads the maze, sparing none. Speeding vehicles going around, cities where men roam around, racing with time, chasing the wind, spreads the maze, sparing none. Photography: A view of Chicago downtown in 2007. I shot this from top floor of Sears Towers.

Dogs native to this land, high spirited friends of man. Love to be on their own, thriving in cities and farmland. Long forgotten by men of this land, roaming in groups along our streets. Shades of brown, black and white, with dirty paws and wagging tails. Alone they can never reside, with family and friends they prefer, forming groups, marking territories, ruling over streets and lanes. Never too rude and never too lazy, racing cars and chasing flies. Bathing in the warm sun all day, jumping into puddles of mud in gay. Give them food or water, ever faithful they will remain. Roaming all day long in the wild, returning back to rest by your side. .

Once a month, twice a month, many a festival to celebrate. Fasting at times from dawn to dusk, Feasting in joy for the rest. Silk Saree's rustling in pomp, Shimmering bangles chatter along. Scent of jasmine flowers, Aroma of ghee oozing sweets. Ramadan, Diwali and Christmas, Religions do not matter. Gifts given in plenty, to make everyone happy. Spirit of celebration in the air, filling warmth and joy everywhere. Over there in a Little shack, sweating over a greasy pack, rough hands at work as always, washing away dust on scooters. Dents and grease fill their life, fighting for food their only fate, Celebrations do not matter here, for those called the filthy poor.

Grey spreads over the horizon, casting its dark shadow on cheerful trees awaiting rain, little flowers smiling at heaven, ploughed fields, red and barren. Drops as soft as a feather, fall from heaven to water pretty little creeks of wonder, winding down to end where ploughed fields lie bare. Here and there a few drops, dances a pretty peacock. Showers end, downpour starts, filling streams over the hillock, as gushing creeks wet all fields. Drenched animals safe in caves, rats and insects deep in burrows, huddle together cats and dogs, birds rest in cosy nests, and it rains, rains,rains,..., forever.

Will I ever understand you? Growing within me slowly, defining me, nurturing me, yet distinct from me. Detailed plans you abhored, Unknowing which rules I defined. Hurting myself from within, trying to achieve the undefined. Path of wilderness you chose, beckoning me into new lands, of undefined horizons, where thoughts wander at their own pace. Rugged paths lead to peace, here time knows no haste revealing hidden treasures, long lost in thoughts deep inside.

Land of evergreen natural beauty, Unabating it's spirit of gaiety. Riches abound in forms many, farms and mills raise in plenty. Pristine water ways winding through freshly sown fertile lands. Merging with majestic rivers turned into drains of chemicals. Pearls of humour and peels of laughter, accent with respect mark this frontier. Customs and cultures mix and mingle, races many together built this empire. Gates to the outside world, opened for the sake of riches there. Drought never known here, but, dearth of intellect an eternal bane.

Raising high to threaten the skies stand in attention, soldiers in rows. Their green heads swaying wildly brown arms open wide trapping light. Bursting out of mighty rocks arise the might banyan trees. Roots digging deep in to earth seeking water among rocks. Peels of bark stripped out by elephants that roam about. Tiny nests adorn their crown feeding creatures all around. Primitive men to tribal folks rested under its shady leaves. Lives on this silent witness watching evolutions fold out.

Rhythmic strokes in random hues, lovingly stroked on mediums many, speaking out loud for those, who love to see and listen. Ori Struggles of life in abstract, desires flowing out as colours, silent beauties of still life, mysteries of human soul as portraits. Pen and paper not always needed, to savor the joy of creation. Materials many and waste none, for art knows no narrow boudaries. Cotton clouds woven into royal robes, Silky fabrics sculpted to perfection, Swirling clay forming shapes many, Hard rocks born again as dainty sculptures. Eternal language, silent but strong, binding souls with mother nature. Power of creation bestowed on her, gifted to one and all born in her womb.

Path of wonder, path of light, not in heaven, but on muddy earth. Woven among wilderness by bare feet of wise men who dared to walk alone. Head held high, eyes shining bright walked forth they did, fearing none. The light of reason their only weapon to guide mankind, from ignorance to light. Self respect for all man kind vital to live, yet denied to men. Rode forth the destroyer of castes, attired in black, awakening common sense. Subtle rivers of poetry in torrents, burning narrow thoughts on its course, flowed forth from the noble laureate, from his abode of eternal peace. Towering souls many did come, provoking rusted minds to think aloud. Awoke a few, simple yet enlightened souls, many more to rise in ages to come.