Diners

Commuting back from work amidst the noise.
I ponder over a nice place to dine.
Some place cozy where I'm spoilt for choice,
somewhere to gossip with a glass of wine.
I look out the window, my train zigzags ,
then pauses as the next station rolls by.
On the platform sits a small girl in rags
clutching old newspaper, handful of fries.
Wide-eyed she waits for her brother to join
who comes running flashing a toothy smile.
Soon they devour what is fetched by a coin,
relishing the meal earned once in a while.
The train rumbles on in the whizzing rains.

My belly grumbles but the hunger wanes.

Rain's Symphony

Sky rumbled like a drumroll.

Clouds beat about in rhythm.

As the wind whistled and trolled,

an earthy scent seemed to hum.

Rain dropped its watery note

that dribbled over the face.

With each chord the monsoon stroked,

a musical soul surfaced.

A tune soared from silent strings-

flapping melodious wings.

Guilt

The guilt gnaws at the conscience,
tearing non-societal thoughts.
It creeps in slow, then poisons -
its notorious ink blots.
The mind is a restless leaf
that flutters as the wind blows.
It sails tho the journey brief
since we anchor when it flows.
To trail beliefs is no grit,
nor the path that others writ.

                

Geometry

And when the pains multiplied-

from life was subtracted glee.

Mind from the soul did divide

till you were added to me.

I was in maze of circles,

trying to find an angle.

But root cause of all troubles

got lost in the triangle.

Then to reshape you entered.

And soon became my centre.

Appa

Vibhuti shone on forehead,
clad in dhoti he towered.
Adorned with a holy thread,
all the knowledge empowered.
Tho gruffy he appeared,
for his look seemed severe.
Sporting a stylish beard -
I wish he was still here.
Now memories fill instead.
Lies unridden his moped.

Hudson River

Sunlight streams thru and illumines distances afar.

The long piers stretch across gleaming like solar bars.

The yachts stroll as the river rolls along the skyline.

Away for buzz one hears the hum of the morn hour.

Niagara

From the high mountains she tumbles and rolls,
reaching the brim of the deep valley's cup.
Then drops gustily with thunder and roar,
displaying the might that nature stores up.
She bounces on rocks with vigour untold,
sprinkling fountains of water with much force.
Appears as tho many tongues unfold,
each gushing from a mysterious source.
Such enveloped in her magical mist,
the rainbows spread their long colourful wings.
Dazed I stand this dazzling whiteness amidst,
and wonder how unblinking she so blings.
If ever a structure that portrays love-
matchless remains the architect above.