Sunday, June 30, 2013

Rain Drops

Undulating river with-  
The surges of silvery water embracing the gusts of wild wind,
And falling crystalline drops of rain scattering as pearls on it.
Strewn stones around water producing soothing rhythm.
All this looking as beautiful as the 'beatious forms' of Wordsworth. 

With my imagining eyes,
I find you playing 
with falling crystalline drops of rain,
with the gusts of wild wind
with strewn stones. 

I long to become the rain drop
Which wistfully bequeaths its existence to river
And becomes its inseparable part. Like rain drop,
I too wish to bequeath my existence to YOU,
And become your ‘inseparable part’.

Friday, June 28, 2013

Brightening Cumulus

cumulus dancing 
and moving to the west
where she lives.
I begrudge them-
Because they will rain at her
And they will kiss her.

She will walk up the less traveled way of her city, 
and will frolic around with the shower of rain. 
She will whisper the her loving verses,

"For I have known them all already, known them all:
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,         
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;" 1

Then she will slip into 
the myriad of deep thoughts.
She will engrave her own poem
on the plank of her heart. 

Bidding adieu,
the cumulus have departed from me,
but left me soaking with her recollections.

Note: 1- Eliot's Love Song of J.Alfred Profrock 

Tuesday, June 25, 2013


On tin shade,
Rains play the frenzied drum,

And forking lights dance in the darkening sky.

Sunday, August 26, 2012

A Gypsy Girl

An adolescent gypsy girl,

Tanned of skin,
Sitting across the lake,
contemplates the stagnant water.
She meets herself in the mirror of water,
 And finds herself as the water is.
 Air smears the water;
Water blots her smiling face.
She seeks herself again,
But finds only unruly waves.
She murmurs,
 “ You waves do not shelter me
  As mankind has done”

Saturday, August 25, 2012


Invigorating morning,
Colorless drops dance-
with sultry blows of wind
Musical sip at tea hotel,
And the day begins.


A small, murky room,
 Where an old man lives with Nothingness;
 He reads books,
 But Nothingness besieges him in pages.
 While lying on cot as old as he,
 He sets his gaze at an old-fashioned spherical watch
 And childishly counts the tic-tic of it;
 But nothingness does bump into there.
 Going to the attic,
he opens window panes, gazes at shimmering stars, crescent moon and floating clouds,
 Nothingness follows him there too.
 He finds but nothingness.
 He utters the words,
“everything is Nothingness with whom I live”
 And sleeps with it on creaking cot,

Wednesday, February 8, 2012


Yes, you do perch on my heart
But a fear-you will fly away soon
penetrates the heart,