A DREAM THAT TAUGHT ME

It was a beautiful sight                                 

A small stream was flowing beside

On the other hand of stream

I saw a growing light beam

On a better  look to that

A blurred figure was felt

I crossed the stream

To meet that figure

And asked who you are

It replied,

“ I am strength for weak people

I am comforts for poor people

I am a beauty for ugly creations

I am a friend for every nation”

“I don’t get you, sir!

You talk a lot absurd”

“dear, my child!

 I am the world Creator.

I am GOD.”

“oh! You are that master

Who made the humans slave.

We work for you

But you don’t seem to pay”

“what do you mean?

You all are my children

I am your father

Don’t abuse the relation

By using words dreadful”

“oh! Master, if you really mean

Improve today’s prevailing scene

Food you created

But your many sons starve

Water you created

But your many daughters shower

They shower the tears

Of immense sadness

That we people today bear”

“oh! You are mistaken

If you expect all day and no night

Child! These are people like you

In the face of comforts and strength

In the face of beauty and friend

That need to bring godliness

To other people sad

I hope you got what I said

And felt my words not absurd”

Before I should have replied

That light disappeared.

I opened my eyes

It was a dream

A dream that taught me

A lesson we humans need

To let the humanity breed

Hope you get the meaning of GOD

Hope you too try to see the beam of light

That will some day surely grow inside

:02-aug-2007:

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

The world around us is full of evils, disgrace, sadness and unfulfilled desires and wishes of underprivileged.  One part of world is busy seeking for god, running into temples, mosques, churches and other places to worship GOD. On the other hand, a section of society does not have time to seek for GOD; all they are seeking is  => “a four square meal”. In other words, they have lost the belief of a mere existence of it. What we all need to do is develop a little sensitivity for the situation and realise that HE- THE ALMIGHTY exists some where within all of those who need our help and a little care. I am not expecting my readers to fill bags with lots of money and donate to a charitable centre or stop your work, leisure and comforts to live for others. All you can start up with is=> “start loving” . looking down upon somebody rather shows the state of your helplessness.  Don’t complaint! rather,  try to bring a change; A change in *yourself*!!!.

:with love~~isha jain~~

MY GIRL IN GREEN

it was a Sunday morning
a notepad and a pen in hand
i couldn't resist to walk down towards them
they are beautiful, bright and clean
every fibre rushes with green
those fields are a magic of nature
vibrant, colourful and sweet capture

no! those fields are not mine
nor do they belong to my ancestors
but  grandpa says they never had an owner

in the month of January and February                           
with lemony-vanilla fragrance
those fields bloom with winter iris aromatic 
white and lilac and deep blue
these winter flowers are multifarious

i often ask him
if he waters those fields 
or nourishes them with likable amore
his wrinkled face did only smile
his lethargic hands did only pat
his jaw with hardly any teeth noticeable
speaks:
" you are a small sapling that those plants lefts 
  whose seeds i had cultivated.
  those plants were sweet,gratifying and enchanting
  you are soft, youthful and enthralling
  darling! you are the only field i water
  baby! you are my winter iris. "

people in sixtys are arduous to be understood
but i swear for those winter iris 
their meaning is broad, deep and profound
yeah! i do not have my parents and he his children
but his and my relation is a bond more fragrant 
than these flowers sometimes dormant

drifting in these fields
is an enchantment to my soul 
i wear the transparent clothes of joy
the blood is purified with beauty
provided solace to heeding stallion
the vessels shout  with ecstasy

no! no! i couldn't find anything much a bliss
more amusing than this
nature is all i love
nature is all to pen 
every word i write
every thought i produce
reproduces my magnetism towards these fields                                                                                   

                                                                                    i write about chirping birds                                                      
a big group of white pigeons
they sit on my shoulders and behind winter iris 
to look more beautiful than a sun rising 
the birds sing, dance and flit
making rhythms with the music of my lips




in a group of those white birds
there is a bird with a peck black
its a bird that doesn't move in groups 
nor dances to rhythms of my flute
it flys on a music it creates of its own
it makes sound as if talking to a power divine 
i or you don't know

it seems that it is not a pigeon
but a creation of god
tied to him with smoke of love, passion and intensity
smoke that brings fragrance and rejuvenation
to an intoxicated blood flowing in veins
of a poet.. a lover..an orphan
oh! its an alter ego..

yeah! these souls are free to radiate energy                                 
more spiritful than those of dazzling flame
flame of blue with an envelope of red
on which she made food for me and my friends
those are the days when i returned home
from a school which was distant apart
then she went to that almighty heaven above
followed by his only beloved
and grandpa brought me to this small village
that have big fields to provide me deep solace

my grandpa is not less than an angel
singing sweet songs every night
that help me sleep when i cant 
because a sweet face of mother that is no more doesn't let me.
i saw her in books and so i left studies
our home echoed of her presence and so he brought me to this village
her Saree with purple frills still rests in that locker of our closet
i no more use closets to keep my clothes 
but tie them in a jute bag covered by leaves green and big
but, the pleasant songs of grandpa beats a music of zeal
shouts my soul with nourishment
when i can take a sleep at night to wake up the next morning
to write about the green colour of nature i love.

churns the music of a voice girlish
these ears are foaming and fermented
this is a voice to put me in rapture
her echoes are intoxicating rather
these eyes are searching for a glance or a glimpse
she is a fairy descended from heaven above or may be a princess


no! no! i couldn't find anything much a bliss
more amusing than this
nature is all i love
nature is all i write about

writing about the beauty of rising sun                                    
the euphoria of ocean waves 
 waves producing colours vibrant and intense
loving the colours i see in a rainbow after shower
and those winter iris dancing.
and while i was penning down all these

" awww! these flowers are beautiful!
  i love all of them.
  and yeah, mama gonna them love them too
  she will look good if she gets one with her purple Saree
  and i am sure, i can take them 
  because that man is too sweet to 
  object me doing that. "

she wears a dress white in colours 
a dress for a  fashion of 70s
or a time that no one remembers
not you, i or we at least
her long gown is blending in dirt as it only belonged to it.
oh! even the  dirt on her white dress seems pure
pure with her purity..
this is the magic..of beauty..beauty of her innocence..
that only a pigeon with a black peck can see.
and her long hair are tied in a bun
this gives an impression that she intentionally did
she did this to prevent attention
silly she! a pigeon is a seeker of beauty
it knows where it emerges from
you are vibrating energy with a dazzling flame
dear! the much you try hiding the vibes you release 
the more lurks brightness with sharp intensity

yeah! you can take all of them
and do gift them to your mama 
do that! after all i can never do that
and yeah! i may talk to grandpa
after all, that man is so sweet to
object you doing that

it is said that good things doesn't lasts forever
and angels not always descend on earth 
don't know to what extent that's right
but
while i was preparing myself to speak all that
she had already disappeared

no! no! i couldn't find anything much a bliss
more amusing than this
nature is all i love
nature is all to pen 
and i pick my pen to write once again about those iris

when things went wrong
when my ears flute with words of loved ones gone
when my fingers cry for the gaps they have
and nobody to fill in
these fields came up to my rescue
in windy nights that were dark
these vibrating leaves made noise so loud
that under the sky with wide thunder
i never listened to sounds of gone loved ones
the fields have weeds so high that they cover me all over
and no gaps between these fingers or in heart with large void

" come dear grandson! its night
  you my catch cold instead.
  its chilly outside.
  come. i will make you sleep"

this night passes by
to bring morning fresh anew
and me here writing long
about my grandpa's fields i have always adored
mentioning about green
the tress big and canopy wide
she comes up again this time

she comes up again this time
with the same beauty, attire, innocence and magnetism divine
the only thing that changed
was her hands full of baskets
she plucks those flowers with excitement
happy, smiling and joyful
she looked more beautiful than those winter iris
dear nature! how can i write about you
dear stranger! why don't you let me to?

paper and pen lost their significance
a poet a writer became a lover
days past and so did months
my daily diary was left untouched

every time she came to those fields
she collected flowers with eyes bright and big
she bid a farewell to my grandpa
my grandpa : an honest chap
explaining that those fields are not his
but he does take care of them all times
she wished him thanks and so to me

trust me! that her twinkling eyes 
were only an illusion to beauty
because a sweet and pleasant voice she had
was a right expression for her beauty

" dear son! seeing you from long time
  you had not been writing these nights
  our mail box still has loving letters
  your readers are impatient for your work
  tell me, if you wanna join studies back
  we will go to that town left long back
  i have a friend promising and a family big and sweet
  they will look after you even when i am gone..."

" no grandpa! you are not going anywhere
  from me, this village and these fields
  you are the only one i love 
  and.."

" and? "
" that girl who comes to collect flowers daily
  doesn't let me to write for my readers."
" she is a sweet, poor and young lady.
  why don't you like her? "
" no grandpa! i like her a lot
  and that's why i cant write about things i do. "

grandpa in my life is truly an angel
or may be something more than that
if i ask from an angel for something, 
he may or may not...
but grandpa finds a solution to all problems
sain or unsaid..

she comes up next day 
with huge baskets once again
to collect those flowers that were never fresh
more than her smiling dimples ever wet

" thankyou for these Flowers. they are lovely."
" girl! have you ever read my writings, people say they like a few of them?"
" yeah! i have read all of them
  they were rich, meaningful and deep 
  only a soul feeling green could write it
  it had love, ecstasy and solace
  that only a nature lover could feel for green forests
  it feels that every grain of yours 
  has nature shouting with amour"
" what if i say that there exists a soul 
  whom i love more than green?
  it is a spirit that comes to my fields to collect flowers daily."

her eyes were sparkling
and cheeks pink
my grandpa was right in sixtys
i loved my parents and they left me
and so i loved green because it can never part me
a girl could be promising to me if i love her
the way i had been doing to green

now i move in those fields
and i see that girl in those fields
i write about that girl, the beauty, the charm
that looked more magnificent with a Saree in purple frills
and iris in her bun
she reads my books and i read mine
and i don't see any missing faces in the pages of rhyme

my mail box coming up with more letters                             
they love reading what i write 
nature is all i love
nature is all to pen 
she loves, caresses and adores me in  green
and so i do in green
after all she met me in those fields wide
truly, she is my girl
my girl in green.

: with love~~isha jain~~

BRIGHTENING DARKNESS

silence could be sounded everywhere

and i had realised i was somewhere

it was dark and grey

trust me! nothing could be seen.... all was in vain !

i move my hands in and out

gave myself a few circles round and round

took a step further ahead

and had almost decided to take it back

when i saw a bright ray of light

coming towards me from my right

" whether shall i approach my right ?

  or right  is just not right ? "

a swap of limbs by degree 90

name of almighty

started stepping ahead

could not listen the footsteps i had

by now the ray of light

had become visibly bright

here started conflict of heart and mind

" it can be everything. "

" it will be nothing. "

" why dont you venture in ? "

" why not to escape out of it ? "

" complexity is magnetic......"

" but simplicity is  adorable. "

the signals were infuriated in nerves

just as a natural geyser is about to bring turbulence

" silly me !.."

dove and the olive branch

had started appearing hazy........

sounds like  a tower of babel....!!

" you ignored the ghoosh sound. "

" but what now !!"

"  you had already ventured into brightness..."

indeed! complexity is magnetic.. !!

" it is bright.. so .. bright..

  me out of darkness..."

there are roses, orchids and jasmine

green leaves are following the rhythm of happiness

finishes the disturbing silence.

" it is the first time

  taste sweetness

  smell happiness."

vision has brightness

close your eyes.

one

.

two

.

three

.

and four

open your eyes

too see darkness.. deep darkness

now its fear and horror

horny touch and ghostly voices

falls a sheet of darkness

that was a trap

to engulf the brightness of ours

not of ours ..but of millions..or even trillions..

that is why it is brightening.....

 a brightning darkness.....

author’s note:

i am feeling that i am moving towards light
but i am entering into a deep and dark tunnel.

as an author, a writer, a poet, a girl..lols..whatever you know me as…this is  one workpiece which is very close to my heart. “the brightening darkness” . the all meaning lies in the title. Darkness: evil, disgrace, negative, hovering, pessimism, haunting…! Brightening: happiness, cheer, joy, love, affection, amore, friendship, light, warmth. But, how could two co-exist? Simple. In life, something that appears magnetic and attractive, like a guy who is handsome and caressing, or a rose beautiful and fragrant, a friendship promising…. But later it is realised that something which appeared to be brightening was an envelope over the darkness it is made up of. The guy is a fraud, the rose pricks you the moment you hold it, the friend was fair-weather.

Friends! Face values are a trap, they are temporary, if you have to appreciate, start appreciating the beauty of heart. Permanent!

: with love~~isha jain~~

BECAUSE LIFE IS ABOUT MOVING ON

it is a  day to be called sunny..
but still there is  dark and deep..
i can see flowers
but they are not sweet !!
i can see bushes dense and lushy
but they are not green..

little girl has fallen down while running
it was the time when i got hurt on my knee
dad said "you are a brave girl, my child !"
mom said, " princess will be alright"
my eyes were showering ..
and i felt it was the saddest moment....
a moment that can never have a strong competitor

but, i can be wrong, so wrong..
i never knew .....
until this happened..

HEART- a small room for large wounds

no bad doctor to give me medicines                        
no bandages, no tears, no more blood to bleed
but what  crying is a small heart
a small room for large wounds

no dad to say that i am a brave girl
becaue he cant see my heart harboured
my heart harboured with tears 
that no friend can wipe for a dear
mom sees a smiling face 
and says that it resembles hers in childhood

i am walking on the path 
trampling over the leaves...
ohhh !! these thorns are painful.. so painful..
that i bleed, i weep, i cry aloud...

when it rains outside,
little children come out of their houses
they run, they shout, they play with fun and frolic
they fall , they get injured and cry with showering eyes..

their crying upsets everybody around them..

silly me! i smile on this..
because i know it doesnt hurt
what hurts when you have a heart
with millions of wounds not seen.

when it  rains, i thank him..                                                  
"him" is the almighty
because it rains when my eyes arent able to shed tears
he crys for me and supports me
and says "because life has to move on"
: with love~~isha jain~~

FOOTPRINTS

lost in a land of sand

i was walking here and there

besides there was a stream

with water gurgling and murmuring

i could see nobody anywhere

i could listen some sound nowhere

the silence sounded somewhat eerie

i was lost in solitude nearly

alas! i saw some footprints on sand

not of human or panther or creature living on land

i shouted if anybody was there

but heard no response from anywhere

suddenly, i felt a touch

shocked, bewildered, i was stunned

it was cute, little and fumbsy

yeah! it was genie.....

ah! i thought he would grant me wishes 3

but, he himself looked pale, sad and needy

i asked who you are

where do you belong from

the genie exclaimed (as expected) :

" i can fulfil your 3 wishes..... "

ah! that's great!

you are a creature

found by people

with handsome fate

but, tell me why are you sad?

why not happy........

for fulfilling desires

for fulfilling what we aspire....

"no. i am an evil.

 i am a disgrace.

 i am not meant for people

 with handsome fate."

"ah! how come you say that?

 if you fulfil any 3 wishes

 you can't be a disgrace

 i am lucky to have such a fate"

"stupid girl! get the meaning of life

 life is a path of thorns and pains

 there are hurdles to be crossed

 and stones to be pushed away."

widely opened was my mouth

soon you could see me dumbfound.

while i was making out 3 wishes

my fingers shaking and body trembling

within no time, the genie said :

" demand! demand what your 3 wishes are! "

his words were an order

asking me for 3 wishes

his eyes were a plea

requesting me not to say anything

i was gazing at his eyes

oh! they were so immense

when i found that

i was lost in them

"no. i don't want you to fulfil any of my wish."

"demand! demand what your 3 wishes are!"

"no. i don't want you to fulfil......"

genie converted into a beautiful prince

sparkling smile and twinkling eyes

his hair was gold and colour was silver

yes, he was not less than a treasure

"i had been waiting for you for years

 without you i was always in tears

 you are not a stupid girl

 you know how life can always turn

 how did you make out

 that genie was something fake

 it was a trap for people

 not with handsome fate

 yeah, you were gazing at my eyes

 did you make out me pleading

 or you understood something from my speech

 or is it like you don't have any wish "

"what you said is all correct

 these were a few things i had kept in my head

 but, something else was most portentous

 that had troubled me with great momentous

 FoOtPrInTsssSSsSs........

 i saw footprints big, small and very small

 moving towards you on and on

 but why these footprints never returned

 has now an answer very much deterred......."

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

an attempt to highlight how the world can always put some bait to engulf you. but, we all can overpower it by using our wits. the story of a fairy land, or Cinderella, or snowwhite may be good to listen and no offence against people who believe in the existence of such worlds ( hey, even i do..). here, a genie granting 3 wishes was a trap...a big trap..! the moment narrator had asked for it, it may have done something it never wanted to. the narrator's wits of observing footprints that never come and overpowering the vice of greed... that's what is the demand of poet  !!!  and yeah, it did help a beautiful prince !

“open your eyes to see the world. anybody: an enemy, an acquaintance, a friend or a well wisher...could be a disguise who offers you wishes, but, don't demand! it may take you down. ! :/ :/ :/”

:29-dec-08:with love~~isha jain~~

THE UNFULFILLED : dreams that don't let you dream

a flower that has taken birth today
will wither tomorrow
a beautiful butterfly will not have
those colourful wings again!
a friend no more in this universe
cannot come back in your life
the times spent and cherished
will never return to you
you were rude, you broke, howsoever you regret
but, he cannot come back to you!
you were once talented, beautiful and wannabe
but, today you aren't!

everything is transient, temporary or short lived                      
but, this is no complaint!
complaints are desires, longing, want...
complaints are dreaming, wishing, and thinking..
dreaming of things that are fulfilled
dreaming of things that may be.
dreaming of things that will never be!

there are many things that will never be fulfilled.
but, this is no complaint.
complaint is our ignorance, our timidity, our helplessness
we are weak..so weak
our eyes are weak to dream of things that are not fulfilled
we long..we aspire..we want day and night
we make plans and invite a future with our dreams fulfilled
then comes into action an active mind
" this is delusion..this is a vision..this is thought.
  this has to go off like a bubble.. "
we hear..we listen..and we react..
but what goes on are these eyes poured with dreams.

but we are stupid and helpless to dream day and night
but, this is no complaint
complaint is
tears wetting the eyes
desire burning the heart
turbulence in the mind
excruciating pain feels the soul

those eyes that once desired, once longed, once wanted something
are closed now!
those eyes don't want to see
they don't want to feel
the dreams are not flowing out,
trapped in..sucked in..engulfed in by longing.
what flows out are sorrows, blood, failure
and i don't say tears
because they don't.

but, this is no complaint.
i complain from that heart, from  those eyes, from that life
i complaint from those dreams..
dreams that are unfulfilled..
" why do you exist?
  why are you the way you are?
  your presence is not simply absence...
  absence of reality of a great fancy
  rather your existence don't let us dream...
  dream even those figments of imagination
  that can be laid with a potent of reality!
  you are the unfulfilled dreams...
  dreams: that don't let us dream!!! "

AUTHOR'S NOTE:
the poem is simply an attempt to project the helplessness and inability of a human being to fulfil his dreams. it is said that if you aspire for something, all you have to do is "perspire" . if you want anything and lighten a deep desire for the same, it may be yours. but ,is it true ? no. not always. sometimes, we all human beings are so incapable and bounded that we simply cannot. and then what lasts is only a desire, a longing, a desperateness, restlessness and an abyss vacuum that cannot be fulfilled. rather, it becomes deeper and deeper if you try fulfilling it . at this situation, the only option a person is left with is : leave yourself on the situation. and then, there comes a day when he stops dreaming.  simply abbreviated as: "you want something, you dint get and now you don't want! huh..!! funny but true.. happens!!!! "
:with love~~isha jain~~

AND THIS IS WHAT I FEEL SOMETIMES

deep within me exists a soul

a light of energy

and a  power with dazzling flame

oh! its transparent..and i cant see it.

but! yes i do see through it.                                                 

the soul makes me feel the presence of those

those that are absent.

this body is a cage for the soul

and this is what i feel sometimes

it wants to see the real beauty

but gets disillusioned by these eyes

when it trys to listen the music

i hear noise from these ears!

soul! you are in a cage

and this is what i feel sometimes.

when my soul was trying to smell the fragrance

the fragrance of love, purity and affection

my senses were smelling the fragrance of a rose

a rose bearing thorns

those eyes were appreciating the beauty of petals

petals that fold every night

they fold because they are afraid of darkness

dear soul! you can see in darkness

and you can see when the sun has set

you can smell when no flower blooms in your vicinity

ha! silly me

where could bloom a flower more vibrant and lush

than the multifarious wings of yours !!!

oh dear! you are in a cage

and this is what i feel sometimes

when my soul was attracted with his embrace

this flesh of filthy blood felt the lust of wildness

for another cage that has no soul

or may be not that divine the divine you are

dear! you are in  a cage

and this is what i feel sometimes

when my soul felt forcefully for those trees

those dancing leaves and twinkling stars

my body was busy wiping tears down these cheeks

soul! you told me to love, love and love

when my body was trying to avenge for those wounds

those scratches i got because of it getting stabbed

cage! you were stabbed at your back

but this soul was betrayed

still it loves, forgives and smiles

because it is energy with light

its fire to burn it all..it could burn its sorrows too..

but soul ! you are in  a cage

i feel pity, helpless, sorry, and restless

but u tell! how can i free you from that cage ?

because i am no other than the guard of that cage

and he (the almighty) told me to protect you under this cage!

because without it, you may be contaminated

by the indecency of evil energy

its here, there and everywhere.

but dear soul! you are in a cage

and this is what i feel sometimes

: 18/05/2012: 9.57 pm: 

: with love~~isha jain~~