MY CITY..THERE GOES THIS STORY..

In my city there lies a story
Told and retold through ages
Yet it pulls like a new text
You think about it or not
You know there you belong
In its alleys, on its horizon
And the eternity in its court
To my city there goes this story
Of life and beyond
Of living and metaphors
Water, like always
Was flowing then as well
When it suddenly asked
That what I saw in its flow
Life I said and my soul echoed
Like any Banarasi would say
Like any Banarasi is asked
It then pressed further
Bringing in death and beyond
Metaphors of life I said
And my soul reverberated
Like any Banarasi would do
In my city there lies this story
Of life and life in death
And the conversation on it
In a city where Gods belong
And the Ganga bathes souls
Helping you go beyond
Of questions of life
And of fear of death
To coexist within their realm
My Kashi and my life there
It is the story of life
That every Banarasi has there
In its streets, on its Ghats
Transcending like the sky
And complete like the earth

©SantoshChaubey

WAS IT LOVE?

A night of endless hesitations
Perplexing and reassuring both
In some moments
We would come together
Living the years between us
But the fear then would creep in
Reminding us of the void
That had sent us apart
I would often ask
Why it had to go this way
I can’t say about you
But your eyes speak the same
Was it love?
Well, we never spoke about
But I did care
About even smallest things
Life was building
Like a nest so delicate
Yet so vulnerable
That I had left everything else
To weave its wings
I still fly with it
And it was same that night
Expectations?
Well, I never had them
But it really helped
To see you flying as well

©SantoshChaubey

LOVE

It was just eternity
With eyes fixed at infinity
A distance was there
Mature like love in 30s
And experimental like
The love of those early 20s
Life was speaking
With life on its behalf
Still existing in those realms
Yet moving on as days go
The call was there
And it still echoes
Like an eternal bliss
As the beginning
That never sought its end
On a journey
That always looked beyond
An unspoken bond
Remains there
In life and beyond
You never know why it is
But you always know
What it takes, where it goes

©SantoshChaubey

MEMORIES….

It was yet a summer day
Seven years to that winter
When it was a different song
And with a difficult note
So rough was its melody
That all was lost into it
So intensely it was done
That he was left all to him
Days were frosty and alone
Even if it was a summer sun
Life flowed, melted
Left bruised, dispirited
The winter that stayed
In a summer that swayed
Seven years to that winter
It was again a summer day
In by-lanes of memories
When it all came rushing in
That’s still a different song
Been there all along
But seven years is so long
That it has got all along
Staying there, in a corner
Albeit, without its marker

©SantoshChaubey

THE BUTT’S BUT..

It was a smokescreen
Or a windowpane
Or the spiral of butt
It all seemed mixed
In the spiral of twists
Curly, groovy
And voluptuous maybe
It was the fag’s fad
Or it was just a fad
Well, it didn’t matter
As long as it was in
High-fiving or driving
To the limits of brash
In the mad precincts
In the high of king size
Hallucinating it big
As if you were the one
Beyond and in
Running your life
Or running from it
Well, it didn’t matter
As long as it was in
In the street fashion mix
Of smoking every worry
Life sucked you
Or you sucked life
You never bothered
About this reciprocity
You didn’t have time
Or you just ignored
A screen of smoked rings
On your windowpane
In your living quarters
Or just beneath you
The butt’s but
Was never a concern
In those days of
I, me and myself
And its confused chores
The fag’s fad or just a fad
Anything it was
But a youthful rebellion

©/IPR: Santosh Chaubey – https://santoshchaubey.wordpress.com/

LOVE THEN

Love then
Was in the air
Or flowing in your veins
Well, whatever
It didn’t become jugular
Though it always thought
That it was the one
Love then
Was inside you
Or over you
It didn’t speak much
What mattered
Was the word
And its romanticism
Whether it was artistic
Or pushed you into literature
You really didn’t know
All you were concerned
Was about primacy
Of your feelings
And of your individuality
Love then
Was you personified
Giving you solitude
And days of soliloquies
Where you loved to speak
To yourself
With all the smiles
And the momentary pauses
That would creep in
Making you blue
Or making you blush
Love then
Was the last word
Of your longish nights
And the first thought
Of your rushed daybreaks
And of all your teeny vibes
Yes, it was there
Certainly in the air
Even if
It didn’t become jugular

©/IPR: Santosh Chaubey – https://santoshchaubey.wordpress.com/

HOLI DAYS..

That blue of ball pen refill
That violet of maddening thrill
That green of a hazy sheen
That red of a messy sixteen
That yellow of permanence
And that black appearance
That white of a subdued peace
And that mix of splashed piece
It would always be a family time
When Holi would be at its prime
Though I didn’t love chemicals
But as there were no herbals
There was no other way out
But to give in their bout
Yes, they were the traction
The guys from my location
Refusing to leave my trail
Until I joined their rainbow rail
And once I would be on board
I would be one in the hoard
Be it a ball pen refill
Or even the chemical bill
It was an annual spectacle
That I viewed as debacle
It was an annual struggle
That I won like some truffle
Those were the Holi days
Their umpteen mundane ways
When it was a bit Kafkaesque
And it was a bit Supermanesque
When I would say no to say yes
And I would finally find my brush
To spend some time together
To think on its ‘ifs and buts’ later
Yes, it would finally be my time
When Holi would be at its prime

©/IPR: Santosh Chaubey – https://santoshchaubey.wordpress.com/

WORDS RHYME IN SOLITUDE

WORLD POETRY DAY: MARCH 21

Words come and stay
They know their way
Words play in moments
With their reverberations
Words rhyme in solitude
Speaking their mind
Words flow inside
Making my days alive
Words tell me who I am
Resuming the dialogue
Accepting what I say
Words come to tell me
Of nights and days
When it was all so gone
When words almost failed
Words still speak to me
On why it had happened
And how they got me again
I was a writer I didn’t know
I was a poet I can’t say
Writing liberates me now
Poetry lets me croon
I know my senses now
In my nights and days
Words come and stay
To weave new stories
And to tell all those tales
That I so deeply lived
That I so often write
Words rhyme in solitude
To help me reach out
To the life I need to be
Giving me the reasons
To begin every ‘new’ day

©/IPR: Santosh Chaubey – https://santoshchaubey.wordpress.com/

I LIKE THIS BLUE

I like this blue
You keep the red
There is this virtue
Beyond that thread
The gloom is long gone
My madness is back
From a dark beacon
It’s that wild pack
From the days in life
Bathed in restlessness
To the moment in life
Steeped in freshness
I like this blue
You keep the red
It told me what’s true
Beyond that thread

©/IPR: Santosh Chaubey – https://santoshchaubey.wordpress.com/

TALES OF LIGHT LIT BRIGHT: DIWALI 2015

The panorama is still
Still you can read a thousand thoughts
Still you can weave a great many stories
Tales of light lit bright
Peppered, mingled, conversational
The panorama is still
But its colours stir emotions
Like a kaleidoscope
Colours, merging into darkness
Colours, immersing darkness into their fold
Illuminated like colours of a rainbow
Within verbatim realms
Within perceivable wanderings
Within unimagined possibilities
Colours are telling a great many stories
Inspired by lights this night
A panoramic serenity so vibrant
That it touches hearts
That it speaks to souls
To pour every emotion
To live every expression
Crooning rhymes of wheels of time
Lost in music these voices create
In brightest hours of this darkest night
Of light, of lamps, of colours, of voices
This symphony is beyond words
Taking me into their fold
It is so uninitiated, it is so raw
That it is so pure
Life is riding high on colours today
Enlightened by glow of possibilities
This Diwali is different
For, it has drawn me to its sameness
Sameness of tales lit bright
That is always there for you to see
And I could see into it again
Yes, today is that autumn night of lights..

Diwali 2015

TALES OF LIGHT LIT BRIGHT

©/IPR: Santosh Chaubey – https://santoshchaubey.wordpress.com/