I know that
Your stones are also very much polished
In your garden,
I have nurtured my orchard with
Wild weeds.
Seeing my torn shoes at your door steps,
You ran away barefoot
From backside.
I simply wanted to say you : I can’t cut those fingers
Who has shaped me ugly but with great care.
By Nisarg Ahir : 20.6.2011
And somebody waited for long…
A drizzle with dust
A wounded sound
A song with broken meaning…
What he wants from that deserted road?
He knows it reach to nowhere
And she will never go that lonely place
To elaborate forgotten words
When I faced that fellow
He has just worn my identity!!!!
By Nisarg Ahir : 27.6.2011
How can you clean up my days?
Which I have painted with colours of your dreams?
If you want a fruit of my being, take away
But don’t cut off a tree
Which has served sweetness to many
If you will come back
I might be there as a nest…
Lonely, deserted, yearning
And few feathers you left…
By Nisarg Ahir : 24.6.2011
Birds chirp for me but I hardly offer my ears
An eternal moon is ready to paint a ray on my heart
But I can’t ever offer a canvas
A stream is eager to wash my dust of years but I can’t put my feet in
A boon is showering happiness on a wide green field
But I choose to remain closed in my clumsy small room
A trumpet cries on a battel field for nothing
I am tired and wish to go out of everything at least
Alas! the sun told me to remain in darkness
As I was fighting for patty things for life time
A part of the earth was for me to create an oasis of being
But It’s still vacant and destiny nods his head in distrust…
With whom I tried to walk for long, have kept me apart
Come, o my soul, find a flute and play our own songs…
By Nisarg Ahir : 12.11.2017
