Of growing wings to your dreams

Its how a random thought

finds a home

in the farthest corner

of a receptive heart

where drinking in its warmth

growing on its love

it becomes strong

slow steady in a race with itself

a few connected souls

a few appreciative hearts

stop to fan its fire

strengthen its roots

help it reach out to the skies

and it, the dream

now shy but a little more confident

steps out of the heart

travels to the eyes

reaches the lips

touches the hands

speeds the feet

until as if possessed

a body moves

a dream searching its house

in actions

in events

in dirty street corners

dreams accumulate

and magically transform

everything around

a Hima Das

an Arunima

a Kalam

a Leander Paes

a Mohammed Anas

a Neeraj Chopra

opens the soul where

it parks itself

in life-giving receptacles

admiring eyes, thumping chests

pulsating nerves, dancing notes

growing its wings finally

it sets out to conquer

the worlds, known and unknown.



To the story teller


I said

‘what magic is that

you weave into your words

what passions pushes those thoughts

what actions what expressions

what voice what tone

what message

whither you take us

what sights you show

what colors of life

what hope what rainbows.’

‘Last time a balloon spoke

and said it well

of how we are

of how much more we can be

madam story teller

kid and grownup alike

we love it when you speak

go on give wings to your thoughts

and sails to our dreams

together we shall proceed

to a better tomorrow

worthy of greater stories

for you to tell

for generations to remember.

I call him love!

In the dead of the night

I wake up with a start

to check if He is there nearby

‘is it time to go?’

ask I eager to pack my bags

‘not yet my love’ says He

‘when it is time, I will let you know’.

‘Life snatched me away from you

pushed you into pain and misery

I know your searching for me

I know your love pure and true

You are mine forever, remember

Life cannot part us from one another

I shall reclaim you for once and for all

With such promise

there was no room for doubt

I was at ease and we were in peace.

His words were kind

His tone soothing

I slept blissfully

knowing how eagerly He kept His watch

over me catching my forty winks

our temporary connect

our time of freedom from fetters

so it was

He & I

some call Him death

I call Him love!

PS: The tussle between death & life! Of loving death!

Sometimes done

Some times she said

I am just done

done done done

its not about doing

yet done it is

so done

that its almost dumb

to be doing anything different

or being just the same

no, it is not about doing

nor did someone do something

not really

but I am done

just done that is

done done done.

I am undone

wrote John Donne once

to Annie Donne

but, I am neither Annie nor John

but just done done done, so she said and I laughed!



While as a teacher I might roll my eyes and ‘sush’ a student engaged in an animated conversation in the classroom, I do myself look out eagerly for opportunities to do just that…talk…talk…talk…

Its funny that I should do so, especially since my attempts at socializing are not many and I do actively discourage anyone who tries to invite me to step out of my home for any event, visit or something of that sort.

Though I am largely amiable, the people I look out to connect have been pretty constant, despite my attempts to change that.

Three days of break from work gave me ample opportunity to call up friends,especially friends from college and school. Friends largely from times old, when assumptions were less and masks were none.

What is this yearning to connect, I have been trying to understand. What is the need, why this urge,so strong that I might just come across as being a little over enthusiastic..

In fact, the other day, I did apologize for my enthusiasm to connect but my friend was kind and said she is happy to talk in Malayalam after a long time. And we did talk, for a long time. It felt truly great.

Is it something peculiar with me, I wondered, thinking of this deep desire to reach out and connect?

Is it that I am seeking attention?

Most of my friends are usually so engaged in their personal lives that they have little or no time for small talk. And I sometimes seem to have all the time in the world to want to talk and be heard and to hear and to connect.

Technology has made it easy for us to connect these days. We can easily locate a friend or someone we want to talk to but then do we have the time or the inclination for it?

Is it the vacuum in one’s personal life that makes him or her to want to talk to others?

When I listen to my students, friends and family, I understand how deep and how rooted is this desire to be heard, to be talked to, to be understood, to be asked after.

A friend of mine shared how she has successfully qualified to be a special education teacher, a student confided of having got an opportunity to star in a movie, another said, she might consider pursuing MPhil, my mother has found time to learn a few more shlokas in Sanskrit,some body challenged me to visit all the note worthy places in Bangalore and show her the pics! Honest communication, straight from the heart is the at the core of any relationship, be it with friends, family or at work.

It is just enough to have someone who calls up to ask’how are you?’and that I learnt from my younger brother!

So, keep the communication going, even if it means you are needling someone, you never know, it might just be helping you or the other person.

Picture Perfect

After all that crying

she dried her eyes

a tear trail ran down her cheeks

a sunshine squint appeared in one eye

spreading slowing to the other

the corner of her lips twitched a little

his brows uncrease

noting the climate change

the intensity of his gaze comes down a bit

several muscles relax

a chair appears from nowhere

swinging legs

they sit

beginning to read.

PS: Some movie

So said she

‘Love’, said she

‘sit down by the sea

harkenĀ  the waves ashore

singing songs of bonds eternal

many universes have we traversed

you and I

many moons have we spent

on distant planets

before we meet

here at the sea shore

in these bodies we wear

so it must be

that you yearn for me

and I for you

the sun,the moon and the stars

have witnessed our sojourns

across the skies

in forms unknown

to our mortal eyes

what could otherwise explain how

what causes you pain

should spring from my heart

what causes me joy

should step forth of yours

listen to the silence of the stars

they speak through their blinking eyes

listen to the sweeping winds

gushing past all life

listen to the murmur of the sands

they hold stories of times untold

listen to the clouds

pregnant of truths unspoken

rest your weary head and heart

at this hearth, by the sea!’

Ps: Of how she spoke!