A gentle breeze begins to flow,Little raindrops showering soft;A cloudy sky giggles low,Leaves of trees dripping zephyrs aloft. The mountains enjoy the little rainWith gentle breeze and misty crest;Birds, peace, and quiet serenity,All whisper to the woodland trees. What if all this disappears?Global warming at its dreadful peak:Scorching heat beating upon the street,Glow, flow, or … Read more
“Some childhood memories never grow old,They simply become echoes in our heart.” Laughter once rose with the morning sun,Little feet raced and games were begun.The swings whisper, the tall trees sway,Holding the sweet secrets of yesterday. A whistle once called us: “Come, it’s time!”And small victories felt like a mountain climb.We laughed, we fell, we … Read more
A shadow fell upon the earth,And quieted the busy street,A tiny foe of unknown birth,That brought the world to sudden freeze. The bustling crowds all faded away,Behind closed doors we stayed inside;We watched the news from day to day,With nowhere left to run or hide. The air grew still, the skies turned clear,While fear was … Read more
In the quiet corners of the day,When crowded voices fade away,I find a steady, guiding light,That makes the heavy shadow bright. No golden crown on silver throneCan match the warmth that I have known,In silent bonds and shared smiles,That bridge the longest, weary miles. You are the anchor in my storm,A familiar coat that keeps … Read more
The tree is silent, quite still,A few leaves yellowing,All its fallen seeds. When the birds come into the tree,The branches tremble and thrill;Without birds, the tree is dead. The bird is the engine of the tree,And the tree becomes a machine of life;And when the bird launches awayTowards the infinite,Then the tree becomes silent once … Read more
“India is what was known, what is known already, and what shall be known — that is what is unknown.” — The Eternal Paradox Incredible India: The Living Soul of Eternity Poetic Prose India is not just a country. She is a soul, a heartbeat, a living entity that breathes in colors, chants, contradictions, and … Read more
They say patriotism is in uniforms, in parades, in salutes.But I have seen it in her —a woman walking alone at midnight,holding her ground like it’s sacred soil,refusing to shrink even when shadows try to swallow her.Her bangles are battle drums,her anklets, the march of a thousand revolutions.Her eyes carry the monsoon’s rage,her silence — … Read more
Poetry from time immemorial has been an alternative form of therapy in times of depression. Poetry has always been accused of carrying one from something real to something unreal, from something factful to something fictitious and to top it all, of offering a flight of escapism from the harsh reality of life to fanciful world. … Read more
Squinting my eyes, I woke up to the morning sunshine,Donned in the iron uniform beside the door,Mama hurriedly screamed, “Don’t miss the bus, you have to reach school on time!”Pink Bougainville, red gulmohars, Indian elms,Walking amidst the flower laden path, all trees dazzling like gems.Mithu! Rithu! – two white cranes pecking their food on the … Read more
Do I proclaim myself to be a writer?Do I really qualify to be the one? Do my writings appease others or not? Do I have that grit and resolve to stay here? This Monachopsis of being a writeris A dilemma for me constantlyThe dubious cluttered mind of minekeeps on pricking my conscious I feverishly search … Read more
