Category Archives: poetry

To Think

Posted on by akanksha gupta

I really don’t know how to begin
(It’s hard to say where
the ‘how’ starts and the ‘where’ ends)
I really don’t where to begin

Despite popular opinion
Most tales have no head, no tail,
They do, of course, have a plot

But in a sea of
Bewildering circumstance
And ungainly afterthought,
The waves push it along

They too have no beginning, no end,
Just insurmountable strength,
So much so the plot oft’n mutates,
And sometimes, altogether, disintegrates

Perhaps, this is but a reflection,
Merely a victim of refraction,
But if I may, and if you will,
Just let your gaze
Glaze

And ride wave upon wave

– Akanksha Gupta

Fearless

Posted on by akanksha gupta

The stars are in your eyes
The clouds under your feet
And at your fingertips
The skies seemingly breathe

Their breath tickles your face
With sprays of sand and salt
As the clouds disintegrate
And into the sea you fall

The sea’s swallowed the sun
And the tears of the night
Now the night is on the run
Here creeps in the morning light

Through the canopy of leaves
The netted sunbeams prance
They prick away the sleep
And fill awe in every glance

– Akanksha Gupta

Beautiful

Posted on by akanksha gupta

The Night is mine;
Its tranquil undergrowth
Its eerie loveliness
Its wayward melody
Whose every haunting note
Hides
The silent screams
That seize my lungs,
That claw out but in vain,
Clinging onto sheer desperation
In the madness of this moment
That seems to have
Frozen
Into a brief ‘forever’ –
One of the many
That sulk and skulk
About the sidewalks of my nights
Casting their shadows smooth
Upon the dark and the deep
That glide
Into its mystery –
Like friends of old
They greet
To meet before,
Again, they part
There is a stark comfort
In this that though the Day’s
Disguise is yours,
The Night is mine,
For me, mine alone –
Its louring scaffolding
Its liberating anonymity
Its untold lore of yore
Its unabashed beauty

– Akanksha Gupta

Critical Reception

Posted on by akanksha gupta

In pursuit of perfection
Our grimy sight stains
Our very own reflection
Leaving little room
To brood upon
Anything but

And even if that weren’t to be
A tiny glimpse of perfection
Would inevitably
Burn down all ambition
Only for the ash to, anew,
Tarnish the erstwhile
Flawless contours
And thusly stoke
The dying embers to life –
A critic reborn
A critic revived

– Akanksha Gupta

Conjunct

Posted on by akanksha gupta

And so, and yet,
Life toasts to and with
Glasses half filled,
Half spilled, half empty,
And so, and yet,
Delicious
In their entirety,
Where taste is a mindful perception
And mind a powerful beast
The heart is an overpowering illusion
And so, and yet,
Is breaking free

– Akanksha Gupta

Transience

Posted on by akanksha gupta

I watch
A miasma of brush strokes
Trailing over
The canvas of life –
Dull, bright, warm, sharp
Their watermarks
Evade the sight
But those that loiter
I notice
The crinkly lines
That embellish their every stroke –
Bold, rugged, shy, sleek
Impressions that time erodes
But those that linger
I remember
The dots and crosses
That stagger each line
Big, small, subtle, sublime,
An expression that holds
The redolence of time –
A taste of vintage memories
That swarm
With an ageless, decadent grace
Yet ultimately
When everything fades
Period and pause
Everything fades
They say
Life is funny that way

– Akanksha Gupta

Teacher’s Day

To all my teachers: Happy Teacher’s Day!

It’s been years since graduation
I measure that time and distance
In values
That paved our way
In beliefs
That kept us walking
In attitude
That set the rhythm to our gait
And in fortitude
That carried us across

Because
The knowledge we then
Naively gauged us in
When faded away,
The wisdom
Wisely remained –
In the wordplay
During interactions
And the unintended wit
In the reactions –
Their impressions
Gained
In girth and momentum

So while it’s been years since graduation
I measure that space in memories
Too priceless to put a tag to –
Even words are not enough
To express my gratitude

Love,
Akanksha

Hoodwinked

Posted on by akanksha gupta

Words escape
At the brink of night
Into the sun-kissed moon
And the scarlet skies

That carry an echo
In every wink
A phantom scar
Lingering tween blinks
In the dark of the night
The smirking moon
The star kissed skies

And their silence
A naked ghost
That hovers
Like a timeless void
Casting its shadows
Upon the din
Beckoning
To sweet oblivion

– Akanksha Gupta

In Tact

Posted on by akanksha gupta

Thunderous frowns
Wring the skies
Spluttering
Pearls of wisdom
Upon the ground –
Then to dance
Or to drown
Differs
Only in sound –
Those canopied
Are yet bound
To their pebbled lanes
And undergrounds
While the victims
Of innocence
Learn to thread
And wear
The fallen
Round their necks.

– Akanksha Gupta

The Illusion of Freedom

Posted on by akanksha gupta

My fingers don’t shake
Yet my pen hesitates
And the paper is black and blue.
I tighten my hold –
Had I been so lax
As to let the pen grow bold?
It is but a paper anyway;
And papers come and papers go –
The convenient martyrs
Of our self-effacing ways,
Covering our rot within theirs,
Letting our thoughts stay
Strangled within our throats –
Little birds
That now whisper
In our ears
Words
That make words cower,
And ideas, that yearn
To run free,
Find themselves
Short of words
Suddenly,
Apparently,
Justifiably.

– Akanksha Gupta

Lurking In Them Blue Pills

Posted on by akanksha gupta

A house stood
In the far east end
Not quite marble white
Mud brown or charcoal black —
The colour faded before its quiet strength
Like the yellow of the yellow pages
And the red of the red moons —
Turning, waxing, waning —
Like a gnomon
Meditating
In its own shadow
Not so much abandoned or reclusive
As part forgotten, part oblivious,
And part elusive —
Just enough to have
A perceived objective clarity
As a bridge
Between dream and reality —
A house
Sometimes rented,
Sometimes owned,
Seldom sold,
Seeing all under its sun
Through windows
Cataracted to its soul

– Akanksha Gupta

A Wound In Time

Posted on by akanksha gupta

In the darkness of the night
There are secrets that we hide

In the brightness of the day
Faces give naught away

There is blood and there is grief
There is pain no words can ease

They are shadows fires cast
Burning the future past

Gone
Is it my wake?
I hear the dirge
Am I awake?

In the dying of the light
We don’t go without a fight

In the crook of in-between
Dreams are true, truth’s a dream

There is death and there is life
There’re no truths, there’re no lies

They are shadows that time casts
Blurring all th’ futures past

Gone
Yet I’m awake
Or is it all
In my head?

(I composed these lyrics to accompany the haunting melody of Javier Navarette’s Lullaby from Pan’s Labyrinth)

– Akanksha Gupta

Dysfunction

Posted on by akanksha gupta

The apparent imperfections of life
Appear as lesions marring its skin,
Imperfectly veiling the deep wounds
Rupturing the will within.

What paraffin can then suffice
As fire for ice when ice afire,
What liquid strength can hold and embolden
When those icy cracks are clogged sepulchres dire.

And yet through them –
Through the little cracks in our souls –
We want warmth to seep in; to seep into
Each cut ‘n every fold

The warmth of recognition
Of acknowledgment of our existence
Of sustenance of our rights;

The warmth of appreciation
Of admissions of our successes
Yet omissions of our strife.

But those moments and that age
When we used to yearn for them
Have long passed our doorstep,
Leaving in their wake
Fractures –
Untended and unchecked

At the root of which lies
A quiet and visceral need,
For a tincture of the warmth of celebration
Of each moment of the life we lead,
Henceforth, to seep in; leaving
Each cleft-end to the other cleaved.

– Akanksha Gupta

THE DEVIL IS IN THE DETAILS

Posted on by akanksha gupta

Don’t lose yourself in pretty words
Their artful eloquence
Beware the silences between
Hiss with malevolence

Too long don’t stare into the woods
Keep count of every branch
Wayward traveller, wary be
Of stumbling in a trance

In vain pursuit of netted sun
On blue-green waters, hark!
Lest in you wade too deep, yet miss
Upon each wave a shark

And when embark upon next verse
Do turn each page with caution
Sharpened edges draw first blood
From beguiled opponents

So judge not by its cover a book
Read between the lines
Double entendres hide amidst
The seemingly benign

This world, from ‘far, is abstract art
Up close a labyrinth
The devil lies in its details
Trembling with innocence

– Akanksha Gupta

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year

Posted on by akanksha gupta

Out of the night that curls around
Glittering from pole to pole
A sleigh of dreams shimmies about
The contours of our souls

And in the gentle caress of sleep
It brings a world to life
That lifts the stubborn blanket of snow
Lodged in our year-struck eyes

To show beyond the place of self
Lies a joy beyond measure —
An exchange without cause or clause
That begets unbridled pleasure

Then it matters not how weary the road
How blistery the soles of day become
We shall always find the shade of friends
Even when on our lonesome

Because —

Out of the night that curls around
Glittering from pole to pole
A sleigh of dreams shimmies about
The contours of our souls

And in the gentle caress of sleep
It weaves old tales with new
A realm of possibilities
We knew not could be true

To show beyond the place of self
Lies a vision of tomorrow —
A free fall into novelty
Past year-stale joys and sorrows

Then it matters not dawn streaks
The inward eye with reddish gold
The dreams herald a future
That is ours to have and to hold

— Akanksha Gupta