Monsoon

Sitting in an abyss of oblivion,

waiting, for the next big adventure

I see chasms of emptiness, around, surround

me and I try to find meaning

 

In art, in my favorite literature

In poetry which mesmerizes the soul

In the voice of a captivating speaker, motivating millions

In the silence of meditation, I try, I fail

 

For it is not what the mind knows what it wants

it is the blessing of that unexpected moment, which brings a smile

The unexpected word of a friend, the gift unforeseen

The metallic voice from the machine which says, someone remembers

 

And going through the list of those I wish to catch the attention of

My eyes return to a name, a face – auspicious, grand, gorgeous

With a cute round face and straight hair, she stands proudly and smiles at me

And I don’t know why, I’m drawn to her

 

She embodies a mentor, whose words guided me through a dark period

and her silhouette glows with our teacher’s wisdom

Yet, I’ve hardly spoken to her, I don’t know if she would like to

I do know her learnings, will take her on a journey I wish to accompany her on

 

And so I leave my inhibitions behind, believing a lose thread connects us

Never having been so direct before, I ask her to join me for supper

Taken aback she is, for few have dared to approach her so direct

Amused I am, and anxious for her response

 

I know not where the story leads, I know not if I care

I know not if she would be a friend, or more or nothing at all

But sometimes, you need to give life that chance

to take a step ahead and discover someone

for that someone you might not be able to afford to miss

Sometimes, you need to take that leap

and let your fall guide the rest of the way

Sometimes, you need to walk out in the rain

let the breeze touch you

and discover, Monsoon

 

Vishal Gupta

July 19^th, 2014

C First Mid-West

I once knew a beautiful bird

With many wings of many kinds

each wing, had feathers few

each feather, of a different color

The wings flapped differently, but always took the bird ahead

Soon, they discovered their purpose, and strived to fulfill

Seldom helped, by others, seldom on their own

Together they flew, towards the common goa

One such wing, very close to my heart

had feathers ten, very strong

Without even one of which, the wing was incomplete

And the wing ensured none would be left behind in its glorious flight

The first feather, the heart of the wing

the one on whom the rest relied

The one who had his own demons to fight

the one who came out strong every single time

The one who grew quiet in the dark

and danced when any other wing won a reward

He was the one who became the life of the wing

he couldn’t have predicted, but his glory was meant to be

The second feather, was small at sight

perhaps the most crucial, when the wing took flight

He ensured the bird never fell

When the bird soared, his name would we tell

He cared not for fame or glory

he cared for his work and that was his story

The smartest feather, I know of

Slightly averted to others, as most geniuses are

The third feather, even quieter

ever so focused, the silent striver

The others seldom forgot of his presence

Until his need arose, when he rose to the occasion

The one who knew, where the path headed

and effortlessly strode, to the goal selected

He cared little, for others and opinions

his faith on himself, was his guide and redemption

The fourth feather, was an unusual one

with doors welcome, he valued his moments alone

His path unclear, he strived to find

never wasting a moment, never willing to lag behind

He had better friends, outside the wing

for the wing was never, avert to friendly kin

Not much we knew, about that feather dear

but we stood together, in all success and failures

The fifth feather, the most colorful

the best at his job, the most joyful

He built his place and was proud

when he set his mind on a target, he would let himself drown

He understood the wing, the bird and the flock

never restricting himself, to any one accord

He dipped himself, in every color

and came out flying, adding himself to the bird

The sixth feather, my favorite

the one who led and gave the wing direction

The one humble, to not acknowledge his power

the one intensive, to use it when required

The one to whom each other feather was indebted

the one who never asked anything, in return of his blessings

The one, whom I miss the most

the one, whom I know will shine in every place he goes

The seventh feather, the most innocent

never failing, to bring a smile to a sad face

A child at heart, afraid of monsters under his bed

a man discovering, the only reason to fear was fear itself

A friend helpful, in every time of need

an ear which lent itself, whenever it could heed

Someone whose face still doesn’t fail to bring a smile

someone, parting from whom I’d regret every single time

The eight feather, was a feather in the cap

the most beautiful, whom the bird kept for last

An artist, with tricks for every party

be it dance or painting or calligraphy or photography

Excelling in each, he made art his life

music, acting, fashion, design, guided his light

He devotes himself in pursuit of his passions

reminding, you can never fail if you never choose the second option

The ninth feather, a dirty one indeed

the multi-tasker with tricks in his sleeve

He spent his time for fun and work

and failing to prioritize, he pursued them together

The devil, he was quick to a temper

the wing helped, to calm down his anger

The cutest one indeed, in brief smiles he passed

the ninth feather, would make the wing complete again

Each feather, be large or small

played his part in making the wing

and such wings made glorious phoenixes

who soared the skies of a little-known city

Each one, coming together, playing

Fighting, amending, burning, healing

The birds turned to ashes

and rose again

Shared feathers

and called them back

and as for my wing

I am, the tenth feather

Vishal Gupta

October 29^th, 2013