A miserable hospital scene, with shouts and painful sobs,
With fractures, wounds and injuries of various calamities,
And my friend, one among them, cancerous, with no hope,
Not weeping, but talking and laughing, as he was, years back,
In our classroom, enjoying the full life, on luxuries and lust,
A spent-thrift, on tours and hotels, getting honours and friends
Enviously, that no man on those days, as him, in our company,
Played life, entertaining himself and others, with love of lust.
Lust, the concupiscence, an animal instinct, in-born,
Inflames by itself, so fast, from an inamorata, I thought,
Catching fire with the coquette, lightening within, at once,
On the limelight of love, recreating words so tender,
A soft touch inside, the dalliance of love, tempting men
And women to swallow the sweat-coated capsule form,
The human-love-intakes, forgetting all pain and hardships,
Longing to have an inexperienced perception of love.
The tree of life and the tree of knowledge, ‘why it’s different,
And why not in one tree? in this life,’ I recalled the teachings
In ‘Old Testament’ not knowing what to be opted to enjoy life,
The ignorance that still exists in our mind, always questioning,
The meaning of life and knowledge, confusing men and women
Even now, to choose or choose not love and lust, as it falls on;
The life without knowledge and the knowledge without life,
Both in vain, if not co exists by itself, in one tree of our living span.
The two separate trees, as in Eden-Garden, the tree of knowledge,
Confused Adam & Eve, ‘eat or eat not the apple’, to quench their hunger,
Ignoring the negation of God, and listening to the Snake, the lust,
The natural temptation that keeps us alive, in the tree of life.
Am doubtful, the blessings of love and lust, mere emotions,
That we have, mistaking love as lust and lust, the love, unreal;
The love, as if, tuned and inspired by a feel of lust, that remains,
With us always, to fulfil only lust, even without the real feel of love.
But, we are bound to know how to love without a touch of libido,
And play the amatory frolics only as part of love, to enjoy
The mutual understanding & caring of both partners, together,
Transacting the message of real love, even in lust, to satisfy
The lover, catch and embrace, one with the other, equal sharing;
‘Lust, if real, may come from love and may end in love’,
Once I told him on our talk, on a never ending ecstasy of life,
Getting inspired and done on natural urge of love’, I recalled.
‘Oh dear, at last you came to sooth me, you criticized me,
On those good old days, irritating me much, but now,
I realized, you loved me; while others, my table mates,
Came to laugh at, with no meaning, praising my outbursts,
Am not repenting, as I too loved none of them, but laughed at,
All the phenomenal occurrences, so funny and careless;
See, no wife, no children, nor any one, to mourn, here with me’.
‘Is it same, the love and lust?’ questioning me, he smiled;
I nodded, as it serves one for the other, though distinct,
As lust is lust and love is love, that may agree or disagree,
For its sake, keeping together and apart in its own course,
Distinct and different in appearance, action and emotion.
Lust is visible, very expressive, on face and eyes with good clarity,
And high picture quality to see in each scene and every shot,
With full of emotion flushing and flowing out ward, so strong.
Lust can no way suppress, if flown out, and gets quenched,
Only after finishing its course, or on withdrawal of the self,
From the instincts that compel one to have lust, unsuppressed,
The more we feel, the more we need to throw ourselves in to it,
The hot fire of unending emotion, the imaginary excitement,
As if throwing more and more firewood into the blazing fire,
Trying to get it extinguished, in vain, as the inflammables,
Ends by itself, fulfilling the libido, ending the fire, after burned.
Returned from old thoughts, I caught hold my friend’s hand,
But he laughed, waving his hand to see me off and I walked out,
Keeping him alone, in the closed door, not knowing what to say.
For my surprise, I saw my colleague, running with medicines
Towards the near-by room, very much tired and weeping;
‘What happened?’ I followed her red eyes of shedding tears,
And saw her husband, lying with open eyes, but no movement,
With all his relatives around, thunder stuck, as she cried aloud.
I remembered her office-face, mostly talking against her husband,
Complaining his rough nature and hot tempers, scolding always.
And a smile, came to my face on those memories, I controlled;
Her outbursts, I heard between weeps and sobs, ‘see, I told you,
My husband scolded me and cursed me, with no reason sometimes,
But now, he is not talking, not scolding even, and I pray,
Let him talk, scolding or cursing at least a word, he loved us, I know;
Oh God, what happened? save him please’; loudly she wept.
‘Love, rather invisible than exposed’, I realized, flowing heart to heart,
Get in deep, from soul to soul, and remain attached with no chain
Of loss or profit of any sort, that may or may not attain any goal;
Real love, not at all variable, as it has no form or colour, to explain,
On any terms and conditions of ‘give and take’, the only climate,
It knows is the spring, never changing, always feel flowery within,
That will never end in any volcanic eruption or on any floods,
No lightning nor thunder and storm together affect it, anyway.
Love, if it is real, forms by itself as a dutiful in-take of responds,
Impulses of one’s own heart, with no hidden personal motives,
Either with himself or with his beloved, on any cause or cost,
Nor with any self interest, as it’s an unsigned and unwritten
Agreement, a signature on air, the crystal clear soul, exchanging,
Views and vision, already broadcast, reaching everywhere,
Having own wings, spreading all over the sky, an eye to eye feel,
The E-mail service between a lover and loved one, with no cable.
No lust overflows, in one way or other, in divine, platonic,
And selfless love, that doesn’t pre-occupy with the other,
On any emotional temptation of lust or material attainments;
Let the real love be expressed as parents and kids, friends,
Husband and wife, with no burden, movable or immovable,
To add or remove, from one shoulder to other; as part of life,
Flowing silently as a river, keep on giving, to the needy
To fill the other, not taking anything for the self, but for giving.
He or she fails to attain the bliss of love, if follows mere lust,
Forgetting the essence of true love, getting lost from both,
As lust, the very mortal, momentary and emotional physical action,
That will never sustain itself, in its true external behaviour
And stopped, automatic, immediately after the fire is put out;
But if we follow love, the real immortal love, to give and give away
All what we have to others, is like drinking the nectar, so sweet,
Opening all doors and windows of life, our heart, to enjoy love.
Her innocence, opening up in public, same complaints of scolding;
Correcting and cursing between family members, so natural,
Coming out of love, if exists, with or without lust, doesn’t matter;
Let love and lust be together, than sensing separately, I thought,
So hard, these two feelings, for us human beings, to think beyond,
Our nature, the mortal and immortal feel of love and lust, as it is.
Having lust without love, a mere emotional, senseless outlet;
But lust with love, hopeful union, and love without lust, is divine.
Let me love, love and love on, to make me lose myself, I wish,
Dedicating myself, for the benefit and happiness of others.
Covering her tears, she shook hands with me and I slowly walked
Down the stair-case to reach the main gate and got stuck with;
The sight of a lady, a known prostitute in city, coming so happily.
‘See, I met your friend in his death-bed and he has given me his ‘Will’,
The possession of his farm house, where we met first, so nice of him.’
‘Yes he is nice’, I nodded, ‘you deserve it, reward of lust with love’