Category Archives: Poem

Signing off, the Sun

Dangling legs

dipping into the dirt, wet, sticky

they sat

man and woman

little shrieks of laughter escaped

a scoot here and a hoot there

she did not move

nor did he raise a finger

or  his voice

instead  throwing their heads back

they lost themselves in laughter

catching each others eyes

they laughed again

loud, louder, loudest

the sun was setting

a glorious day he wound up

beginning to sign off

he stopped to watch

such joy, so pure, so true

and sighed

my days are brighter said the Sun

when love is true and pure.

Staying in the now

Alone she sat

brooding over what was nought

and all she got

was ennui

thinking over and over

till he came forward

to gather her in his arms

holding tightly

he whispered

you, my thought

you, love

shall live in the present

stay with me, stay in the now,stay here

and she turned to see his nose dipped in tomato sauce

bright,salty and red

and she burst out laughing

-the perils of a long nose, haha,she roared!


The Voice of Silence

From outside the skies

comes the voice

that fills the soul

a call from beyond
she,though, is quiet
& her silence speaks
in an essence of nothingness
in an eternity of emptiness
silences clash
to make more silence
silence that kills
that heals
that reaches out
that smiles
the call from above
the call from beyond
the silence that speaks
seeking to be heard.

Only just so much

I shall teach you this

only just so much

that you know the way

my way, our way

I shall hold you thus

only just so much

that you know my side

the only side you will ever know

I shall open you up

only just so much

that you know what’s right

my right

Go on be independent

only just so much

just enough for you know

you are dependent on me

Go on be assertive

only just so much

to know to assert

my right over you

You my love be proud

only just so much

to know the pride

of being mine

and she broke away…


PS: On watching Monalisa Smile

Thinking Teenager

‘Who am I ?

what is my calling?’

said the girl all of nineteen

‘the existential angst plagues each human’

the girl observed gravely.

The mother kept quiet wondering

did I provoke too much?

did I prod and probe where it hurts?

the desire to encourage can sometimes be detrimental

the urge to awaken can sometimes irritate.

The junk food lover nodding to western beats

was wiser beyond her thoughts

so the mother sat quiet in awe of the thinking teenager.

Taking Offence

The telling or being discreet.

The love, the hate, or both being excessive.

The beauty or the lack of it.

The freedom or the imprisonment or the love.

The dirt around or the exquisite cleanliness of it all.

The growth of the mind, the body, the conscience or the absence of it all.

The humor or the seriousness of it all.

The over flow of energy or the vacuum

The exemplary art or the artlessness

The praise or the critique or the criticism

The hunger, the pain or the pleasure

The company or the absence of it

What is it that offends

What is that piques

Those that rejoice in taking offence?

I wouldn’t know.

Would you?




To Sing

How beautiful is it to sing

to be able to lend music to your voice

to touch a heart or two

in verses that may not yet be yours

how divine is it be blessed so

with a voice that plays on a string or two

of hearts one or more

how gifted are these

that know to pitch a song

in tunes that are perfect to ears

how soothing is it to hear

the melody of the soul

blessed are those that sing

pouring heavenly manna

into parched lives.

And the sky walked in….

And the sky just walked in 

a picture in azurest blue

dangling silver

swaying grace and dignity

we watched wonder-struck

wide her hips

open her heart

a killing smile played on her lips

she stopped a moment

as if to acknowledge an offering

and walked on

we craned our necks to see

her speechless dignity

beauty we had seen before

but what we saw in her today

defied every explanation

coz in her sat every hue

dressed in its glory.

PS: Inspired by my beautiful colleague dressed in blue.


Sitting pretty,the eyes

Sitting pretty

amidst interesting story telling lines

(They call them wrinkles)


in long boat like shapes

they smiled at me- the eyes

I looked back

eager to make the right impression

but like every other time

I shuffled

stuck a finger up my nose

scratched my chin

furrowed my forehead

and mumbled ‘hello’

bright,small and blue

the eyes looked calm, intent

and then shut off

as if to obliterate me

I worked up anger

whiffed up cuss words

when they opened again

and laughed at me loud

I fell in line

we laughed together.