Category: Poetry

The Lost Passage

Kissed by the rains
I close my eyes
Seeking out my childhood
With a bittersweet sigh.

Sweetest is my smile
As I’m lost in a time
When I gave myself over
To the world that was mine.

The blithe cool warmth
The fuzzy warm chill
Offered me a home where
My heart couldn’t be still.

Tap, tap, tap
As I slowly began a dance
A pause here, a look there
Oh, who cares if I’m in a trance!

A cute little sneeze
Only made me happier
As I burst into giggles
And life couldn’t be prettier.

Eyes had a twinkle
Nose delightfully in a crinkle
Alas, is it my face now
Or the mirror that is wrinkled?

The wings have been cut
My reach confined
But the soul sits restless
The heart still beats wild.

The gleam is gone
From eyes made to lower
So let me close them today
To shelter this moment forever.

(Photograph captured in Shantiniketan, West Bengal, India)

Age vs. Time

It’s no secret amongst my people
How birthdays lurch me into a muddle
Beneath the thrill and anticipation of the day,
A sense of unease churns my way.

The knots in my stomach, the tightness of my heart
Together with joy, has come to play a part.

It feels silly to even put into words
The fear that creeps in with the advent of the day,
Hard to wrap my head around the fact that
Coming of age cannot be kept at bay.

It’s irrational, the anxiety of growing ‘old’
Since I’ve been wiser, watching life unfold
Often told “It’ll only get better, you see,
Life happens now, why aren’t you ready?”

Am i not? Maybe not yet.
Lost innocence tugs at me with delicate threads
A simple time, of carefree days
Lures me back from life’s erratic ways.

I’d love for a birthday to just be that again
One to celebrate and thank for all I’ve gained
To weave my past with the blessings of the new
Without the tethers of anxiety in age.

Is it just me who feels this way?
Absurd as it may be, I hope someone relates
Does a gain of age mean a loss of time?
Oh hush, sweet child, in my heart you’re still alive.

(Throwback to a gleeful birthday on a certain May 24th)

Like the Rush of a River


You know how some days just fly by?
How some people swoop in
Bringing thunder and rainbows with them
To whisk you away on a rollercoaster ride?

You know the kind
The ones hard to find
The ones that are looked for
By the recesses of the mind.

You pause to breathe
Once back on your feet
And look over your shoulder, to where
Dreams and memories sweetly meet.

Feel how some moments lay so still?
How time decides to freeze
Allowing us a little more here, a little more there
A little more heart to fill.

Brief as it may be
Our trysts with that kind
But never has so surely
Anything felt so divine.

Like the rush of a river
How hurried are the days
But its rocks and their glimmer
Are the moments that stay.

(Photograph captured in the scenic landscape of Leh, Ladakh, India)

Unity in Adversity

Slow but sure, I feel a bind
Creeping through the alleys like a seed-bearing vine,
The alleys that once parted Us and Them
Now tie the frailties verging on the hem.

The seeds sown are no longer of discord
Distant and busy are no longer the words.
Reaching out was probably never so desperate yet hopeful
No more is a response any hesitant or reproachful.

What brought this on, one might ponder
Why, fear is what did, let’s look no further!
Fear of loss has never been so rife
Even of one loved, but neglected
In the idiosyncrasies of life.

The seeds have been sown, of love and care
Watered they shall be, by a solidarity bared.
The time, when it arrives, to put our fears behind,
Will we remember to not leave the blessed harvest aside?

Soft and steady, the bind shall stay
The fruit-bearing vine, we mustn’t let decay
The roads, once vast, now bring us each other
Rendering us grateful, oh, the twine mustn’t fray.

More to Life

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“Open up,” a gentle knock says
Curious and unwilling, I linger in my haze
Let me be, my lazy eyes say
I’ll sleep it off, just another dull day.

There’s a shift in my dream,
A child with a wide beam
Twirled in glee with eyes never dim
Could there be a life not so prim?

Oh, but it’s just a dream,
That couldn’t be me, in years hasn’t been
Work’s waiting on the other side of sleep
Top of my game is where I need to be.

“Open, please,” the meek sound pleads.
Do I wanna know where the familiar voice leads?
I brace myself, as I open the door
Only to be met with sights of yore.

Long-buried pieces of a long-forgotten life
Looked at me unsure, resolve building with my smile.

Oh, it was no dream, I realise it now
Just my book of music sheets singing to me loud.
Paints and brushes and ideas with a pep
Waited with bated breath at my doorstep.

I searched for myself, as they jumped in my arms
Didn’t have to look far, been right here all along.

Found a new purpose, or an old one, you might say
Shut the door on a life that barely made me gay.
Why do we make it all about work and a pay?
There’s so much more to life, you don’t say.

Wildflowers

A medley of colours caressed my back
Blooming into an embrace, lush and wet
As I lowered myself gently on a field of green
Wispy touches teasing my skin.

Violets and pinks and whites and yellows
Sung to my mind, the heart mellowed
Breezing me through sweet memories
Painting my palette of whispered dreams.

I opened my eyes to a canvas of blue
Cottony clouds, they were wispy too
Shaped into my thoughts, they teased me so
Wish I could hold them, and let them know.

That I had travelled to a time
A land of sunshine
Where songs and smiles
And kisses filled our lives
A place so warm, so happy and bright
Like the colours behind my lids, when I close my eyes.

A content sigh, I turn to my side
Soaking in the wonder of the smells and sights
What is it really, shed me some light
A carpet of wildflowers, or an Arabian Night?

(Photograph captured in Nuwara Eliya, Sri Lanka)

Life in the Time of Corona

U N R E S T

There’s so much going on
So little time to dwell on
The ins and outs of a troubled mind
What do I carry and who to leave behind?

The times are dark, marred with worry
“Fret not, my child,” Mother soothes me,
“The days might be bleak, nights long and dire
We shan’t calm our storm, lest we lose our fire.”

The fear in our minds, hope in our souls
Made themselves home, leaving us cold
Brought to our knees by the crosses we bear
With the chants of a madman, or one deep in prayer.


(The photograph is a slice of my Airbnb in Kandy, Sri Lanka)

The Song that calls me Home

There was once, a song or two
That called me home, home to you.

I was lost in a haze, of sun and sand
A drive by the ocean, to another land
A sweet escape, it was meant to be
Past all the bitterness, I wanted to see
Few new colours, a new face maybe
A smile in a while, to set me free.

I should’ve known, seen it coming
For it wasn’t new, but a long time running.

The voice crooned, a soft melody
Taking me places I had left behind me.
A whisper in my ear, a caress on my skin
A tickle on my arm, the song played me like a string.

Turning around, no longer certain
I let the roads show me the way
With a little hope, and a flutter in my heart
For a little more could break me apart.

I thought I knew, saw it coming
Could’ve fooled myself, with words promising.
Silence and hurt greeted me so warm
For a moment I wondered,
If this is where I now belonged.

Left no trace when you left this place
The one in our hearts,
We used to call home
I’m back in the streets
Coursing through lanes
Of memories old and dreams long gone.

The music is the same,
Just a tad more blue
As it no longer sounds like the song I knew
The one that you sang, and I held so true
The song that brought me home to you.

(Photograph captured in the Tawang-Bomdila route in Arunachal Pradesh, India)