Our Song

Let me hold you tonight, till the end of time

for the heart has no greater desire

Who knows if we shall meet again

or shall my hopes reach my pyre

Blessed is this moment that brought you here

standing so very close to me

let me drown in the beauty

my eyes shall always crave to see

Who knows if I may find such a night again

who knows if future shall bring me this sweet pain

Come close to me, for we meet in our final moment

Hold me tight, for I’m to melt against you

Who knows if my eyes shall find tears in days to come

so hold me tight, and let me shed a few

Who knows if time will ever be merciful again

would it let you be mine, or would I have lived in vain

Let me feel your touch, your smile, your lips, your soul

Let me know you’re near so I can just be

I fall in absence, closing my eyes grappling your memories

Trying to breathe, collecting broken pieces of me

Who knows if your addiction would ever fade away

will I conquer it, or will I come to its bidding and sway

I lie to the world, put on a mask, ‘coz no one cares

But to you I’m honest, for you I try to fight despair

Entering madness, scarring myself, maybe it’s too late

My demons aren’t unbeknownst, they’re already here

Who how much longer would my nights be cursed

who knows if I’ll lose you, or myself first

I remember you lying close to me, watching your smile

I know not what goes through me, I know it’s divine

If a day of beauty is a joy forever

then you my dear are eternal sunshine

Who knows when I’ll see such a day

who knows if pain temporary, or here to stay

Now everyday is a struggle to reach the next

to breathe and survive to hope that the pain will not last

Moment by tormented moment, remembering your smile,

all the secrets we shared, all the memories rushing past

Who knows what end my sufferings see

to take me captive, or to set me free

And if you’re unable to come, worry not

Your memories never stop visiting

On the canvas of time we’ve painted

memories that keep our story living

Who knows what the future has in store for us

who knows if time offers winds of glory, or only rust

Vishal Gupta

30 May 2016

Radhanagar Beach – Where God left her heart

Radhanagar Beach. Voted best beach in Asia and 7^th best beach in the world by Time magazine in 2004. Naturally, when I heard that I was going to visit the Andamans, this had to be on my itinerary. But “Asia’s best” doesn’t even begin to describe it. Let me try.

“Radhanagar Beach is pretty much like heaven. Only better.”

Nah. That statement is underrated. Forget it.

At the first instant, the beach defies imagination by its sheer size, sanctity, and splendor. The vast crisp blue sea… the gentle waves breaking apart on the shore… the light breeze across the beach… the air which rejuvenises the senses… the Caucasian women in bikinis… Let’s not get carried away here. Coming back, Radhanagar Beach was unlike anything I had ever seen before. The water was simply too clear to be believable. As I took off my sandals to feel the sand in my feet, I realized that this beach has not been much affected by human habitation. The sand felt like how it should have – sandy. Fine little pieces of rock gradually granulized over the course of millennia, calmly waiting for someone to find their beauty. I wonder if they had been this beautiful before humans laid eyes on them. I guess they would have. But then, what was the point of such beauty, if there was no one to see it? But then, is the motive of beauty only to be seen by someone? Can beauty not exist for its own sake? Evidently, it can. I wondered what other sites in our own Solar System would be so beautiful, and have not been discovered by humans till date.

Actually, there wasn’t much of a humdrum to it. It is basically a very simple idea. Pressure variances cause the sea to form waves which break on the surface. Given enough time, these waves convert the rocky crust into sand by constant force. All this happens under a sky inexplicably blue and a blazing Sun. That’s it. No big deal. Yet, it was a sight to mesmerize the human soul. As the waves broke on the shore and the water gently reached my feet, it felt like a long lost lover’s kiss. Sweet. Gentle. Eager. I looked up to the sky and thanked it for preserving this beach till this time to give me this moment in life.

I proceeded to walk along the beach away from the crowd of people because… well, people! I hadn’t decided how far I’d go, I simply decided to go. Anyway my phone wasn’t working on this desolate godforsaken piece of rock in the Indian Ocean. I know that shouldn’t make much difference but as an Investment Banker my phone is the reign to my chain. And for 36 hours now, I had been free. I was agitated at first, checking my phone every 5 minutes for any sign of telecom connectivity. But as time passed, I discovered a newfound sense of freedom. At Radhanagar, the feeling exploded into Euphoria. This was the place where I wanted to have no phone connectivity. A familiar quote from an ancient shrine passed through my mind – “Agar Firdaus Baar Rue Zaminast, haminasto, haminasto, haminast” (if there is heaven on Earth, it is here, it is here, it is here). Of course! If heaven had to be constructed on Earth, it had to be made by God’s own hand.

As I walked along, I found a small set of rocks on the beach. I’d reached a fairly desolate part of the beach with one couple sitting sunbathing at a distance and me trotting along with my musings. I thought I’d sit on the rocks for a while and watch the sunset. But upon reaching them I came by a surprising revelation. These weren’t ordinary rocks. For one thing, they seemed to have holes on the surface. More like hundreds of small craters. Moreover, they were too coarse for sea-side rocks. But the most astonishing feature was that they had little growths on them. As if they were growing into something. On touching, they seemed rather soft for rocks. Now I have never seen corals but have only heard of them. Perhaps these were those. Could corals grow out of water? Maybe these were remnants from a time when the island used to be underwater. Or maybe they weren’t corals at all. Who knows? Well, geologists do. But I’m not one. So pleasing myself with the thought that I’d seen coral reefs for the first time in my life, I moved on.

I had come pretty far by now. There was no chatter of people any more. No faint buzz of humanity. Even birds did not chirp here. The wind blew, but the leaves of trees did not rustle. Or maybe that sound was lost in another. For any sound at Radhanagar did not quite match the sound of the waves crashing on the shore. The waves had traveled for leagues, only to find the peaceful solace of death at the shore. They would rise above in their last moments, fall just before the shore, and their offcuts would wash at my feet. And there was sound. Much like a melancholy. The same sound, sometimes loud enough to turn my head, sometimes soft to soothe the soul, in a non-periodic fashion, the waves kept crashing. For whom? Perhaps for me.

As I went in deeper, I came across the most wonderful observation of a walk which I knew would be worrying my family by now. But then, they worry too much and my phone wasn’t working. Anyway, as I was walking, I saw imprints on the wet sand. They seemed to be drawings of leafless trees someone had made on wet sand beach with a stick. But then, I didn’t think the sunbathing couple made those and neither did I. And they were made for miles. There was only one explanation. But… how would the sea make such carvings on the sand. And more importantly, why? It defied logic. The sea does make some carvings and textures on the sand. I did see them every time the water from a wave receded. That was always in the form of a texture rarely taking shape due to something stuck on the sand. This wasn’t a texture. These were surely carvings but they weren’t made by anything human. And the only thing I knew which they resembled were trees branching out. Little trees, all over the beach. All distinctly apart from one another. Why? How? I do not know. Maybe my mind played games on me. Maybe it was a texture I was simply unable to recognize.

Or maybe, that was how the Earth played. It had a consciousness. The consciousness of the universe. Maybe that was the point of the splendid beauty of this beach. Not for anything else. But for itself. This beach was carving the blue print of organic evolution in sand and challenging my scientific mind to search for an explanation. I couldn’t. I simply succumbed to the wonder that is Radhanagar. The sea continued to reach me at my feet.

Soon, the Sun came low enough on the horizon for me to be able to look it directly in the eye. It didn’t seem to be bothered by it and replied by directing its rays at me. Or maybe those were the rays which affected me so. I saw him coming down. I’ve seen the Sun set on the sea before. Many times. And never has it once failed to leave me spellbound. Even today, the pink sky merged with the blue and slowly turned dark. Till there was no pink. And no blue. There was just, the night, the sound of the waves, Radhanagar Beach, and me.

The Lonely Traveler
February 2016

Screams of the Soul

Silent screams echo through the soul

hitting cold walls of empathy,

traveling through the void of the mind

afraid, anxious, petrified, to ask – Why?

Distractions become the norm

for truth is too hard to be faced

countless hours of sleep shield from reality

only to guide into the realm of dreams vilified

The heart bellows for peace, Alas! none can be found

for every step further, is really one back in the grime

Tears of surrender rush through eyes

Eyes hollow, vacant, looking up for a sign divine

What is left when fate robs the soul of imagination?

What? When myriads of noises cannot produce a single sound

Shaking hands write words for empty eyes

And the world we live in continues to turn around

Days turn to months and months to years

with life being expended as time marches by

Will a day come when we shall ask ourselves questions true?

Or shall we forget them in a life rusted to the hue?

We drown such sentiments on wet nights and empty holidays

with no strength to face the questions kept at bay

In a mad rush of meat and mead we forget reason

Not caring if we are pardoned, or shall be indicted in future

Ignorance is a common respite, yet shamefully so

For sentience is nature of glories whatever little be

All know, yet none acknowledge

Waiting, biding, till the wheel stops at their time

But I speak too much, for man possess no such elaborate thought

Evolved to nurture comfort, man remains a slave of dopamine

Quick to anger, late to let go, rushing for respite, anyhow that might

Sans reason sans judgment sans honor sans human

Wearing masks of habit, man veils his true nature

trying to live without prying eyes of society

In so he forgets, he is the one creating society

that the mask which hides him, works on both sides

Screams such mar the soul of sentiment

leaving behind a carcass of what was once human emotion

Sympathy, empathy, love, tragedy, become relics of the past

And I breathe, waiting for life as it lasts

Vishal Gupta
March 2016

Lost Consciousness

In the rustle of men shoving past each other

to be a minute sooner to their destination

In the land of crowds and speed, and wants and needs,

I take a break to get away from the madness

To look for respite, in some place afar

Without maddening crowds and no end times

where I can spend time listening to inner voices

which seem to have shut down for the moment

I reach for a plane, giant bug in the sky

which takes me above, away from the traffics

I look out to images surreal, of layers and layers of clouds

layer after layer, protecting one another

And between 2 such sheets, emerges the mighty sun

Lights reflected on clean sheets and angels beckon to man

to conquer them to walk on them

To wish to spend my life amongst them

The beauty the sight remains in my heart

For I need to leave it, for my journey has reached a halt

I drive amongst mountains, mighty and old

I wonder how what they’d have seen, since their births from yore

I wonder how they grew, fighting land and man alike

Or did they never care, and simply reach for the skies

Maybe if it didn’t rain out here, they’d have not been so rocky

maybe they’d be smooth, not having to had fought the storms

Virgin mountains, bereft of rains, unscarred, innocent, reaching for skies

Would they have been different, if not for their fights?

Perhaps the struggle was necessary, as told by the flowers which grow on them

for what even would be the point, of rock simply reaching sky

I wonder how He designed the world, where flowers grow on rocks

all it takes is a little struggle, and a lot of patience

Again and again my mountains were washed,

and again and again they grew further still

Finding new strength, to protect their children

Or for personal ambition, they never failed or listened

Perhaps that is their lesson, stoical hard yet gentle to love

Unfailing, unsmiling, living on in the world

Just then showers break

my clouds have come to life

Floating up there in the air as masses of specks

They choose to pour as water might

They drench me in love and terror

making me one with what I’d admired

its not the same as I had imagined

but I guess that’s how life works

I find shade and think of my struggles

So real in another world, yet illusions of some distant reality here

Yet this moment of mine shall soon be a memory

when I go back and fight my own times

Never have I ever called out to God for help during those days

Being atheist, I disregard such non-sense outright

I think I don’t deserve the right to believe in miracles of Hers

No, my struggles have been mine and mine alone

For the universe has never made things right for me

The universe has never played it right

and I don’t think the universe ever will

So I miss the connection so many feel

I miss the sense of false protection I may have chosen to have

And as I fight with aggressive and calm believers alike

I fight my battles alone, while being asked to believe

And believe I refuse to do, for already have I lost much to faith

For keeping faith hath never done me any good

and I lack the patience of waiting lame

In the calm of surreal natural beauty

I look upon in silent contemplation

Amongst clouds and mountains and rains and Gods

I hunt for peace I cannot find

For failed have I to search within, failing still failing will

Trying to find meaning in a universe without one

trying to look for inner voices now dead

I realize, I might be lost forever

Vishal Gupta

6 April 2016

Skies of Rust

Scars resurface when demons awaken

With grief, sorrow, remorse they threaten

Plagued memories make way to the soul

Death remains but the last boon for the bold

Hollow words now whet the times

Sans meaning, they stand divine

God looks, angry once now tired

For souls of men the devil has sired

Tears remain for those who think

Voices are crushed, brought to the brink

Winds from lungs too curb

The brave escape, the servile serve

Held hostage to our own affections we are

The struggle is within, not afar

Desires of a tranquil moment of peace grow faint

To be laid down one final time we lament                                                                                                            

Vishal Gupta

August 21^st, 2015