That night when the sky was red

Like a river flowing another way
you were walking against the wind the other day
listening to the sound of rain
hoping it would wash away all the pain

Now you've been too far away for too long
Hope someday you listen to this song
and always remember what I said
that night when the sky was red

You're just a miracle the world has seen
through the eyes of an ordinary man
Waiting for the sun but the night is long
Hoping it would go away very soon

Now you've been too far away for too long
Hope someday you listen to this song
and always remember what I said
that night when the sky was red

Now you want me to say it once again
but this is going to drive me insane
I'm already a wounded man with half eaten nails
who wants to see the light like everyone else

Now you've been too far away for too long
Hope someday you listen to this song
and always remember what I said
that night when the sky was red

The sky is crying

There is always something very special when the sky cries. Probably the only cry that puts a smile on quite a number of lips. After a gloomy afternoon and a humdrum routine work at office, it always feels great to stare at the sky that is crying but only a little. The red sky with an occasional lightning is an imposter. It has got all the sparkling diamonds in the form of stars. It hides them beneath the clouds and acts as a lonely country boy shedding a tear or two with his guitar sitting in a large field with one or two trees as the only audience. The silent drops of rain over the cheeks take me down the memory lane when I used to enjoy the season's first and the last rain as if they were a blessing in disguise. The sky despises people for not accepting its tears. There is a message in every drop of rain.

Postcards

The mind plays a radical attempt of retribution
Without legitimizing a sense of contentment
Like a bird's nest on a tree during summer
And the leaves falling off like human hair during autumn
letting them fly to an unforeseeable sky above

When you close your eyes and enter an esoteric dream
where the vision becomes hazy and death is no more feared
And the clouds kiss the ocean at the horizon
Only the mountains remain as the witness
And you are a strong adherent of obscurantism

When you get hit by the morning's first sun rays
And the rainbows that make you blind
Just like tracing the contours of her body
And you take a look at the smirk on her face
an explosion with a blinding flash and it's gone

A pack of cigarette and a drink from a neat whiskey glass
Losing yourself to the sound of sporadic storms
Painting a picture of thunder in your mind
Shaky hands blemishing a spotless white sheet
And postcards to a concealed address that chose its own recipients
And there's the last one in yellow and green

Garib Rath(29.9.2016)

fading light at the corner of the roof
the pleasant sound of a speeding train at night
the whispers of carefree souls from the other coupe
the hushing sound of air passing by

the little kid above waking up to a bad dream
his mother somehow kept him quiet
he started to love the gentle swing of the moving train
and closed his eyes to go back to his dream


"good night", murmured a voice from somewhere
as the last light was silently stabbed
the world outside is merely a shadow
of all the troubles you've left behind
and the nights you wondered why the moon
isn't beautiful as the stars that give hope to many lives

confined to a small place at the corner
I smiled at the trees that stood still
and the clouds that looked like a fake pandora's box
I could see myself in the star that stared at me
It wanted to walk in my shoes for a while
and taste the last tinge of happiness of autumn
 suddenly my vision became weak
little drops of water filled the window pane
as if the world outside is taking a revenge on my imagination

it was then when I called it quits
and closed my eyes to enjoy a dream
a dream that would wake me up to a different world
a world where the darkness overshadows the light