A friend I'll always remember

First you make me happy and then eventually I get sad,

When you wipe away my tears, I smile and then I curse why did I look glad.

I wonder the love with which you always drench me, how will I pay back?

How will a rainbow sprout up ever from the darkest portions of black?

I used to wander aimlessly in this bright sun without a goal,

I carried the grave of my dead spirit and a timid, gothic soul.

It was then your shade came shyly on all the dimensions of my living,

And then I realised that now I was protected from each kind of suffering.

Your faint chuckle, the depth of your firm eyes,

The honesty with which you admire, never taking support of any lies,

The beauty with which you dazzle the eyes of your friends,

Forces me to pray to Lord everyday that our frindship never ends.

After years I've fetched a possession for which I'm really selfish,

If circumstances push us in different directions, my life will get hellish.

The way you have smoothened the coarse hopes within me with confidence

Have cemented our friendship and the longing of never losing my existence.

Never any uneventful happening coerced you to lose faith on me,

And with every passing day I realise your affection will not let me free.

I cannot do anything much to express how much respect I have for you,

If you ever leave me, I know I'll drown painfully in the Earth's blue.

I surely cannot remember any good that I ever offered you from my side

But all that charm which you presented me despite I was pretty snide.

I can still see that day when you held my hands and said that I'll be never alone,

And very gracefully you lifted all my agony and within seconds happily they were gone.

I sat bemused, gaping on an Angel who conspicuously descended with a bouquet of love,

And in return simply carried all those dead flowers of my rueful past's bluffs.

Since the day you stepped into my life, I never dwindled on the path of reaching mirth,

You emanated some fresh sparks of hope in my extinguishing joy's hearth.

I forgot how had I shivered in the past because of my ironic solitude,

As your fresh footprints erased the signs of my defeats and I felt myself renewed.

Everyday I look into the mirror, I see your trust glistening from my eyes,

And that inevitable love which internally colored me, which came with you in disguise.

I feel complacent finally with what I have got and I feel I'm a potentate,

After the sound of your holy footsteps on my life, I know I'm not a waste.

Every night I kneel in front of the heavens to pray that no one parts me from you

And we stay together forever like those best friends which God created very few.

The Red Rose of Autumn

Never did I feel that it would be my heart that I was about to miss,

When after 2 years of our friendship I realized that your smile gave me bliss!

Yesterday we were indeed miles apart in opposite directions to explore,

And today you rest on my shoulder as we watch the horizon from the velvet shore.

I always sang melody but this time I emanated those notes which I had never sung,

Even your faintest glimpse was enough for clotting all the blood in my breathing lung.

We had been friends for some time but I never felt losing myself before you this way,

Suddenly all the roses from the paradise rushed to adorn my already shimmering day.

I was always proud of my confidence but it did not work in front of you,

Your killing eyes always made my knees go weak and I messed up with what to do!

Whatever dialogues I had planned the previous night to blurt before you with grace,

Were rendered untold as I was awkwardly speechless in front of your calm face.

Curse it! When I was only friends with you, I could speak to you openly,

And now when I wish our friendship climbs a higher step, I act so dumbly!

The serenity of your intellect and the loudness of your beauty gets me dazed,

How can someone be so flawless? ... Your perfection always made my heart amazed.

Whenever I see you chuckle and giggle in the way an innocent child does,

I get trapped in your charm even more and can barely move in the whole fuss.

I can hardly sleep now and my whole nights are consumed thinking of you,

And with the soaring sun I can see your face, smiling happily out in the blue.

Color red has turned out to be the friend I always hoped for in my past,

I feel that it stains me with odour and hue dated for forever to last.

The pellucid eyes of yours spell a trance on me, whenever I look into them

And blossom some ancient exotic flowers of the Garden of Eden on my stem.

I never enjoyed such a restless feeling ever before,

Out of all the emotions with which I was drenched, this is the only one that I allure.

Love is indeed like the red rose of autumn, which is as beautiful as anything can be,

It is that force which pushes you higher towards solace through the steps of glee.

I became friends with the best

- A poem as a present to one of my best friends whose birthday comes on May 10.

All my past days have been a real mess,
In the absence of a true friend who could caress
My sweltering life like a soothing zephyr,
And produce music from this rusted lyre!

Always I looked at the holy heavens and beseeched,
To introduce someone in my life to whom I would reach
In times of happiness, dolor, grief and pain,
And his company would say that this world was indeed sane.

My search for a pellucid friend that day implicitly,
When I talked with you first and you responded happily.
All the past damage of my life faded away that very instance.
The purity of your soul extinguished the candles of my grievance.

I still remember what a special day it was,
When you confined all your trust in me without a cause.
That nineteenth of September was indubitably so blessed,
As my regular dream got materialised when I became friends with the best.

You were so transparent even though you had an unusual enigma,
Your confidence in me forever erased all of my nostalgia.
I was surely revered by the Lord’s angels on my lofty quest,
As I found you at the time when I was completely friend-bereft.

You supported me when this entire world said that I was the culprit,
You never carried any complain against me, not even a single grit.
You simply had faith in me in every condition this life gave me,
And never did I realize that even now I was licking some scented glee.

You had many friends, joys and assets which could never make you sad,
Still you took an altruistic interest in my life which surely was no glad.
Lilies and daffodils bloomed up on the dry patches of my ground
On that very day when on an unmisted morning a friend like you I had found.

Nothing can get any better because the Lord gave me the best.
I was branded by love and affection in the centre of my chest.
You stepped into my life and changed it completely,
I stared myself with wonder as I never realized what was happening to me!

I could hear my laughter, after years my eyes were dry,
My existence was refreshed, this time not with an appalling lie.
Out of all the friends which I had made in the sixteen years of my life,
Never did I feel so complacent and proud of my choice.

I swear on God and accept that I owe you all my smiles and mirth,
Today I can confidentally say that nothing which I possess is in dearth.
I feel so special and lucky when I compare myself with the rest,
As my regular dream got materialised when I became friends with the best.

The Diary of Jane

An uneventful night had ended it all for Jane,

It was dark and the land was beaten harshly with the rain.

Today I talk of what occured with a girl fifty years ago,

Who was then twenty three, living in a small island called 'Amingo'.

She mentioned about her life in her personal diary,

Which I found wrapped in dirt beside a quicksand.

The last page of her diary said, "Sweet Lord", in blood,

And a symbol was drawn of some ancient satanic iron brand.

Carefully, I took it home and started reading the contents,

Jane had written about each day of her life covering all events.

She had written about her dead parents and what bizarre she had seen,

In her dreams every night in an ancient castle where she had never been!

I started turning the pages and my eyes caught a highlighted date.

November 24, 1954. She had mentioned about that castle's bulky gate.

And about a symbol of brass which was embedded deep inside it,

Having three snakes with fangs out and their temples oddly lit.

I quickly turned back to the last page again which had this very symbol,

This time it wasn't drawn using ink but with the fresh decades-old blood.

I was intrigued to know more about the escapades of the innocent Jane,

Because her Diary unfolded those mysteries which brought her a lethal bane.

November 26, 1954. She saw that enormous gate with that symbol again

In her dream. And tried to push it to get through but in vain.

But as soon as she touched the lit temple of one of those ferocious snakes,

A squeaking sound was produced which resulted in the opening of that gate.

She entered it, quite timid, unaware of what lay ahead.

The sight of a magnificent ancient castle temporarily made her feel dead.

And then someone screeched painfully in her dream and she woke up,

Frightened and shocked. Ample sweat occupied her delicate forehead.

Every night she saw that mysterious regal castle in her dreams,

But with each passing day she moved deeper into it's awful gleams.

February 13, 1955, she entered into the Living Room of that castle,

But again that painful, helpless shout forced her to quickly hustle.

Jane mentioned about the velvet carpets of different colors covering the floors,

And about some heavy royal curtains guarding the entry of all the doors.

She wrote about the complex structure of that Castle having many rooms,

And about that peculiar screech she heard of that girl entangled in pitiful glooms.

One day as she ventured in that eerie castle in her dream,

She found a door having the picture of her parents hung loosely.

She was startled. A wave of nostalgia asked her frightened heart to scream.

But, on the contrary, she pushed the door quietly, carefully.

And they were there. Her parents stood grinning before her.

Her eyes were welled to see them alive and in full flutter.

She ran to hug them, with a joy more intensified than the pain she had

Of losing them when she was merely a girl trying to figure out the meaning of 'glad'.

But the horror of truth horrified the ecstatic Jane with a horrible impact,

She passed through her parents and certainly they were not intact!

She retraced her steps in confusion wondering what the hell was happening,

But before she could make out, she heard someone nearby sweetly sing.

She shut that door in bewilderment and moved to the next one with fright,

There was a blanket of darkness in the corridor and even the moon didn't look bright.

Jane tried to gulp her fear which was suspended in the middle of her throat,

When she saw that who was the one singing that gentle musical note.

It was her! The young 5-year old Jane singing Jingle Bell Rock on piano

And beside her, her mother stood impressed praising her as a true aficionado.

Muddled, Jane tried to figure out if all this had occured with her in her past.

Flabbergasted, she recalled that it was the very night when she had been with her parents last!

Again tears brimmed up in her red, swollen eyes.

As in dreams, she had entered into an area unstained by any lies.

Hastily she shut that door and went to the next one swinging it open,

The sight of her whimpering parents totally left her to wither in anxiety with hopes broken.

Jane saw those robbers again whose faint imprint always hovered above her,

But this time they were more precise and clear, nothing was a blur.

Her mom had pushed the little sleeping kid beneath the bed when her neck was twisted

And her father's eyes rolled on the floor when the robber’s attack, he resisted.

Jane felt numb after seeing the terrible death her parents had undergone,

And wished that she was there in the past, but now no-one she could warn.

She collapsed on the floor after she saw the blood and pain her parents endured,

And with how much difficulty and grace she was comfortably secured!

Before coming back to life from her dream she noticed a symbol printed on the robber's arm,

She recognised it almost immediately - 3 snakes with temples lit radiating an awkward charm.

And then she saw that castle fading away, slowly but effectively,

As the morning sun rose up from the horizon, emitting energy of frolic brightly.

August 11, 1958 - Jane had entered almost all the doors of the castle with will,

Including the one which had her love kissing her a goodbye forever when she stood still.

And yet there was one left behind which came that troublesome shriek, which she always heard,

Today that mystery forced her to push that door to see what actually behind it occured.

Trembling, Jane wanted to uncover another chapter of her morose, rueful past,

But she realized that the time it showed had not passed, instead it was coming to her fast.

There in front of her she stood. A frightful Jane with eyes lit from the nearby burning fire

And with that white hot brand which a man was taking towards her with eyes of pure ire.

She struggled. She tried to protect herself from charring due to that hot object.

Her victory never materialised. She was struck harsh with a knife on her heart- the God's widget.

She flinched and fell on the floor and screamed as the man lowered the brand towards her,

And those little three snakes on his arm made it all clear, yet again nothing was a blur.

The living Jane recoiled, almost dead to see how she bleeded from everywhere.

The eyes of the dying Jane glistened with the meaningless tears of hope appearing to glare.

The petrified Jane allowed to meet her eyes with the moaning dying Jane,

Her grief subdued the noise of the laughter of those assassins who definitely had no shame.

Intrigued to know what happened next with that cursed Jane, I turned the next page.

But it was blank. August 12, 1958 had no mention of any event or any dream of her.

Confused, I paused on the next date, the 13th of August of Nineteen fifty eight,

Where the words, 'Sweet Lord' and that symbol juddered me strongly with an internal stir.

My mind asked me many questions, the obvious one being, 'What happened to her?

Why did she write the last page of her Diary with perhaps, her own blood?

Why did she not reveal the experience she had on the next night of August Eleven,

Why did she make a reference of only the master of this land and the Heaven?'

There was something more, a lot more to the visions she came across in her dreams,

They showed her the past she had lived and also some mysterious gleams,

Like the symbol she always saw and yet she had nothing to do with it for sure.

Was the fate Jane saw for her behind the last door real, having no cure?

This was the story of a girl who died enigmatically within the shadows of her mind,

No one knows what actually happened to the young Jane who was so sublime.

I certainly found her Diary but still there were many mysteries to correctly unfold,

Because what she saw in her dream on August 12, 1958, the Diary of Jane never told.