His long, curly, ruffled hair
would sway to his tabla-beat.
Drama lingered in the air-
I, on the edge of my seat.
His thick brows danced up and down,
music shone in those owl eyes.
Ears attuned to any sound,
fingers played ballet on ice.
I ask - is he really gone?
his rhythms echo, play on.
Mindless wanderings have begun.
The devil has leased my mind.
I know not for what I yearn.
A piece of peace hard to find.
To escape the long languor
I drown in a jar of wine.
But sour thoughts tend to linger
to become my breath of whines.
My musings amuse me not-
Am a prisoner of my thoughts.
My old shoes are worn and torn
by journeying many a miles.
They have walked on sand and stone,
now seem faded out of style.
But them - how could I discard?
for they have known my pulse beat.
In all weather have stood guard,
and forever warmed my feet.
But I need to tell my soul-
move on, time to wear new soles.
Brekkie of hot bun and chai.
Spicy gossip makes us high.
Old age is now catching up.
Others around us feel shy.
Before the morning spread its yellow light-
deep in the tranquil sea grey shapes advanced.
Their curvy dips shone silky in their flight
with an oceanic beauty yet enhanced.
They clicked and whistled and dove in the sea
then sprung in the air with utter delight.
Their grace and smile made a permanent glee-
a timeless spirit and a tireless sight.
For long I have longed to see this flip-dance,
their waltz in the water, a piece of art.
Though a brief glance, it was worthy every chance-
a feast for my soul that gladdened the heart.
But as my boat neared with a gentle sway,
these beauties of the deep sea shied away.
In the morning shine and in the moonlight,
sometimes sombre, sometimes gay- the waves roll.
The varied moods of this frothy delight
stroll back and forth with the wheel of control.
The deep sea harbours mysteries never told,
but often the waves spill them on the shore.
And soon as the secrets unfold, twofold-
the waves are eager to explore some more.
As in the ocean we swing and wither,
oscillated by fate and its dry tune.
And like waves we go hither and thither
in search of eluding joy and fortune.
The sun will shine, the waning moon will glow-
cycles of waves shall stimulate the flow.
I am laden with advice
by those who seem worldly wise.
These men are loaded with vice
yet are keen to analyse.
They use the well used adage,
and plant the seed unneeded.
Alas! this sprout of knowledge
is better left unheeded.
Sweet and eager to express-
sour the fruit when in excess.
The fire is iced in the box-
unkindled lies in a lair.
Awakes when the desire knocks,
or hides deep inside somewhere.
Sometimes its fragrance escapes
as the ice vapours away.
Then this fire new attire drapes,
and no frost can make it sway.
Gloves are off when undisguised-
ice on fire or fire is iced.
She waits for the tide to ebb.
Old bones creak with every step.
She drags on with resilience
for the beach gives her the pep.
The days appear so clear now-
proof of a long pending vow.
Though dusk lures with its intent-
the wine does not tempt somehow.
Roller coaster days are gone.
What thrill it was to ride some.
When you weigh the pros and cons-
you sense - best is yet to come.
As you stand at a crossroads,
savour those moments and hum,
memories discard and hoard-
you trust - best is yet to come.
And the chords of the soul strum-
you know best is yet to come.
Your words do not match the tune.
An offbeat smile on the face.
How long can you be immune,
and let the soul not surface?
Why do you so camouflage,
and withdraw into your shell?
For I know you by and large,
and I am under your spell.
Memories throb and riot -
even though you are quiet.
I sometimes see her sitting in a park.
At times I see her working with vigour.
I often sense her walking in the dark.
But she is gone yet her presence lingers.
Memories spring up from those old pictures
with her undeterred smile full of pleasure.
They tell me I have her calming features-
I’m proud that is how I am measured.
Many a times I go to bed early
for I know she will appear in my dreams.
That is where I can chat with her surely,
and feel life is not as bad as it seems.
I long for her blessings on my birthdays.
To see her often I seek different ways.
One morning he did not stir
She was gone, and all was blur.
So many years together-
in a hurry to meet her.
Elephants can find water.
Dogs take a leak on the tyres.
Funny whiskers of otters.
And the birds swing on the wires.
The monkeys relish the lice.
Dolphins click and dangers warn.
The cats are blessed with nine lives.
And turtles seem to live on.
Painful rats can withstand pain.
Lions flaunt their royal mane.
Just before we took a dip,
the doctor would summon us.
Calm and cool, quick with a quip,
brought back smiles lost in our rush.
Humour was our daily fuel-
snippets and his anecdotes.
Then we would walk to the pool
along with his dose of quotes.
I wish he comes back to swim-
water rolls and beckons him.
Tongue rattles with its own sound.
Silence thinks it is supreme.
The eyes express and expound,
and thoughts whisper in your dream.
Hands speak with their sweet old sign.
Nose flares displaying dissent.
A smile can console a whine.
And rare, the language of scent.
The soul sighs or sometimes yells.
Tears' tune is universal.
It was a hot, scorching hot, summer day. I was in the train travelling to my office. The train was practically empty save for one or two passengers. I took a seat, and put my hand in my pocket to take out my handkerchief to wipe my face or probably the whole body. And as luck would have it - I had forgotten to carry one. Of all days. Of all days. Damn it! And, as if the sun had heard my cursing, it became hotter with fury and poured out its warmth with all the generosity. I started sweating profusely looking here and there confusedly. I unbuttoned half of my shirt staring at the co-passenger accusingly as if it was his doing. He looked at me blankly, and then suddenly got up to get out at the next station which was probably much before the station he had wanted to get off at. I didn’t care and started grumbling again. Just then out of nowhere I spotted a neat, white, fresh handkerchief lying on the seat opposite me. I blinked, stared, couldn't believe what I was seeing. Mirage? God had finally heard me. And how? Nah! not possible. I was sweating alright but swearing even more for God to be that kind. The handkerchief looked ironed and pressed. I looked here and there hoping no one would claim it if I picked it up. In two minds before I made up my mind. What the hell! The handkerchief was there to be taken. The next station arrived. The train stopped. Nobody got out, but more importantly nobody got in. I was about to pick up the handkerchief, my saviour, when one small girl, an urchin, jumped into the train when it was about to start moving. She looked here and there furtively, probably looking for food. She looked at me and smiled. She had long curly, unruly hair, and a cute little smile. She too was sweating, what with all the running around she must have been doing looking for food or money for food. I smiled back. And then, she spotted the handkerchief lying on the seat. I started to sweat even more. She looked at me. She had that questioning, requesting look. And I, with all my effort, looked away as if I wasn't aware the handkerchief was lying there. She approached the seat gingerly lest someone say something to her. Slowly and timidly she picked up the handkerchief. And before she pocketed it, she glanced at me one more time. Oh! how much I wanted that damn handkerchief. Again, with all my willpower I looked away. She felt assured, and slowly she pocketed it. The next station arrived. She got down. As the train started moving I looked out the window. She was standing and staring right through the window at me. She folded her hands and there was a slight movement of her lips in gratitude. Man! What did I do to deserve that? The handkerchief wasn’t mine. Yes - I needed it badly but well. Half-heartedly I waved back. I closed my eyes and wished her good luck.The sun shone unabated, the sweat continued to pour, but - I was a happier man.
It sheds some light, tells what sights
without any prejudice.
Often I dislike its might
for it is my nemesis.
When it cuts, the wound is deep
though it appears so fragile.
Altered face the make-up keeps-
beguiles and false praises piles.
But as its reflections hit-
I reflect - pour wine in it.
I shall not hide from myself,
from the truth, or behind lies.
I shall seek no outside help
who tell to do otherwise.
I will not conceal my wish,
and live for others’ pleasures.
Nor for those compliments fish
designed as per their measures.
This game I have played enough-
Let my soul seek, hide the bluff.
I like you in your madness-
sometimes in your craziness.
Though appear stern on surface-
is hard to hide your softness
The dark tunnel will have light-
its glow will eclipse the bloom.
The waning moon will shine bright,
and leafless trees wait to bloom.
Thorny path has flowers strewn-
every bird will learn to fly.
The fate will roll its dice soon,
and truth will conquer the lie.
Worry not of all the whys-
all you need is different eyes.
I took a stance as he greased the cherry.
He looked me over with a wide spread smile.
But I geared up to protect from injury
for in those innocent eyes there hid guile.
He ran with power to the chalked out crease-
leather held firm for the directed swing.
I, in two minds as my heartbeats increased
for the fear stitched with that devious sling.
He hurled at me with a tremendous speed
and I smelt the old devil as it neared.
But this time I resolved - I will not bleed-
for these taunts were no threat against my spear.
This gruff and bluff I have had them enough-
the gloves would be off if the stuff gets rough.
