It’s Time

It’s been awhile
That we drove for a mile,
The sun shining bright
And the full moon high.
Do you remember me
pointing out to the sky?
As you rode through the night
Letting me fly.

It’s been awhile
Since we danced to a song,
Barefeet in the dark,
In the shadows we belonged.
Don’t you have memories
Of stolen moments as these?
Where the song played right
Along with the night.

Time heals, but does it really
Fix the broken or soothe over only;
Timeless, they say, some stories are
Could ours have been too,
If the end wasn’t near?
Oh but, how would I know,
Since the end is here.
Oh but, what would I know,
Now that the end is here.

The Girl by the Window

I discovered windows one afternoon and after that, nothing was ever the same. – Anne Spollen, The Shape of Water.

The one spot in the house where you’ll always find me.

The site of every greeting and farewell I’ve been a part of. Strangers forego the bell and come straight to my window, friends forget the doors and start conversations right here. From the exuberant waves to some who just turned the corner into our lane to subtle glances exchanged with those uncertain, I’ve probably spent ninety percent of my life at home by these windows. Watching, breathing, questioning, welcoming – and at necessary times, ignoring – the world outside. While, more often than not, inviting the assumption that I study the entire time I’m sat here. Not completely untrue if said study involves reading, writing, creating, thinking, planning, conversing, being.

Even way back, living for some years as a paying guest in a new city, I picked the bed by the window to ensure that the first thing to grace me in the mornings is the brilliant green canopy of leaves on the tall tree outside that gently filtered the sunlight to nudge my sleepy eyes.

Why am I always looking at life through a window? I don’t know.
But if I ever write a piece on me, the apt title shall simply be “The Girl by the Window”.

#sigh #blessedlife

Do you also love to look at life through a window?

For Keeps

It must be luck, or a sweet hand of fate
That gave me a life with the people I met
The ones who found me at my highs, at best
And stayed through the worst, often called a test.

But a test is not what I need to prove
The unflinching loyalty that has often moved
Mountains of hurt and oceans of worry,
Along with faith that dwells in me dearly.

They say I’m good, that I listen and I get it
I don’t make it hard, our minds easily meet
I ask the right questions, and say the right things
Yet another conversation with the happiness it brings.

Little do they know how they leave me reeling
From the fact and the wonder of our souls belonging
Of the right to call them mine, how I wish to keep them so
I’m the one who’s humbled, blessed a little more.

The content that you speak of
The resonance you appreciate
The comfort of an understanding,
A beauty our bond radiates.

I cannot be grateful any more if I tried
For the friends who are nothing short of a gift to my life
Their adoration and love, so unwaveringly alive
They’re my joy, my spark, my charm and my pride.

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)