White Desert - Bhuj

The sun takes its golden dip.

Full moon splashes snowy glow.

Spellbound by the artist’s grip.

The cold winds whistle and blow.

Deep, beyond the vastness spread.

Shrouded by a salt carpet.

The pinch of the desert’s bed -

offers to tickle us wet.

Cheers echo as mugs clink.

Our silhouettes watch us drink.

Shuttle

The restless feathers ruffled on a cone

when the game began in an open court.

Passions would collide to vie for the throne,

as the shuttle whirled and flew, back and forth.

The crowd oohed to the rhythm of the squeaks.

Their heads yo-yoed to track the plumy bird.

Louder than the action the echoes speak.

The pace so furious that sighting is blurred.

The shuttle shuttles like an emotion -

soars and dips to our whimsical fancies.

Sometimes it thuds on the web it can’t shun,

and the wings wither while its powers cease.

The game may end, and players play their part.

But the drama is instilled in each one’s heart.

Bumsy Chuchi

Seems not long ago when you first rolled your bubbly eyes.

Little did I know, chocolates would cease the drama-cries.

Ice cream became your food, pasta the staple diet.

Now all you do is wag your bumsy and flash that smile.

Crossroads

Muses lay dormant in a cauldron.

When some logs fuel and crackle,

emotions ramble around and burn.

As paths clear - fear not what appear.

It is time the excesses offload.

Beliefs that were ramshackle

would wither as you stand at crossroads.

Traffic

Vehicles clutter the road,

and bustle to reach somewhere.

Amidst mayhem the car groans,

puffs its anger in the air.

Horns moan when lights change colour,

tho the path makes no headway.

In search of unknown wonder

people jostle night and day.

And all we do is adjust.

The web of thoughts collects dust.

Pangong Lake

Amidst the mountains the Pangong lake glides-

its turquoise charm the snowcapped tops reflect.

The daunting hills yet longer the sun hide

that soon peaks to splash its golden dialect.

Pebbles massage my feet in morning chill

as waters long and deep in silence roll.

The crafty wind bends the crops to its will,

and a cow moos as the hunger bells toll.

The lake snakes away to the land unknown,

mocking the boundaries defined by man.

A luminous quilt - as if with time grown-

designed and woven by the nature's hands.

My tent flutters as I long for a walk.

Blessed is the time when gauged not by a clock.

Campfire

Wine gurgled from the tall jugs-

drenched and pampered the tired.

Stories buzzed as clinked the mugs,

songs hummed around the fire.

History swapped in laze chatter,

giggled away past blunders.

That on platter what mattered.

To presaged none surrendered.

The flame would crackle till dawn.

Its glow mingled with red morn.