From the eyes of the North.
Watched a festival of a new land—his new innings.
A festival telling a story of new beginnings.
A new yug (year), a new adi (beginning),
Together we call it Ugadi.

Eyes linger after seeing a traditional dish,
A full circle of life—it tastes like a blissful wish.
With ingredients similar to what life offers—
Situations and moments, many.

It tells us to keep a smile like jaggery,
Even in situations that bring agony.
Life is tough and bitter like neem,
Yet necessary for growth and moving upstream.

If you feel gloomy—a sour tamarind,
Always remember, even in that,
You will find a blessing of the reverend.

Have a will—a strong one,
That makes your challenges look silly.
Be like the dish—spicy, like green chili.

Salty moments will pass away,
Just believe in yourself.
A single step forward will make them sway—far away.

If you take a bite of raw mango,
Life will give you surprises.

I witnessed a celebration,
Stuck in awe.
Prayers humble, and performances few—
I felt that felicity in this city new.

I witness a celebration -
Stuck in awe.
Prayers humble and performances few
I felt that felicity in this city-new.

I drove a dummy car
A car of dreams
A car where  we should go to have ice cream.
Louder than the speaker, the songs that we scream
A car where I saw your sleepy face.
I clicked a pic of us with an almost ace.
A car we drove to the places beyond our reach.
Imagine a beautiful mountain or a beach.
A steer towards a steep valley.
Did we participated in that rally?
Road bearers commissioned us even in my dream
A car of dreams
Red hot wheel steaming up like a beam.
You throttled my life at faster pace.
And left that seat empty-
How do I chase?
the engine's roar took us to serene shore.
Why does this dream still feel like folklore?
Still feels like folklore

I watched a digital flick.
Where a lens was recording a woman
Caressing a cat—white with a brown patch on her back.
Yeah! It was a nicer click.
Lost in her own thoughts,
She kept massaging the cat,
Smiling and away from this worldly chat.
The recorder kept engaging her,
Not letting her find her zone.
She, too, kept answering,
Moving back and forth,
In and out, immersed in her thought,
Trying to get away from the lens of that phone.
The inspiration, maybe the desperation.
The lady with the cat is my aspiration.
What creations she creates with her beautiful mind, one might wonder.
Nobody can ever take away her thunder.
And yes, again, somebody said it right—
She is indeed a poem alive.

It all started with a wrong name—
I fell for you before you fell for me,
On a dusky evening—
Perhaps Venus cast her spell,
Or maybe it was an acquaintance’s introduction.
A silent heart—a dead one,
Began its eruption.
Hey, this isn't a game—
I'm losing to my senses,
Crossing all sane fences.
I saw your soul;
It made me feel complete.
How to express myself further, I’m unsure.
You see me differently—
You gave me time,
You found my strength,
Disregarding the grapevine.
I don't know whether you'll ever accept this poor lad,
And thinking that you might not makes me sad.
Yet, inadvertently, my heart gives me hope
That we will climb this love rope.

Sitting on a cozy couch in a coffee house.
Yes, the same reckless bachelor,
But this time alone.
Saw an elderly couple sitting beside him,
Sharing an ice cream cone.

A gentle lady with a bindi on her head.
A gentleman with a ring on his wrinkled hand.
Again, the same notion popped into my mind,
Asking the same question.
My heart said, "Let's observe them this time."

They seemed happier and content.
They have seen the struggle together,
Fighting both good and bad intent.
They both acted like angels to each other—
Even death can't send them apart,
Since the physical presence is just for the world—
The material part.

From their weary eyes, it was evident that love is divine.
What does it help your soul to refine?
You were never born alone.
You were born with the hope of finding your heart.
You will never die alone,
For you have their longings and memories till reunion.
And that would be the real start.

We are born alone,
We will die alone.
So why bind us together with another soul?
What's the meaning of this bond?
Isn't it better to be alone?

These were the questions we pondered together,
My friend and I, walking on a lonely road.
We both were of the same gender,
With similar reckless thoughts,
Insensitive to anything tender.

Why do we need this journey?
Why do you need a ring on your finger?
And why must your forehead bear a bindi?
When, in the final moments, you will be set apart.

Unable to answer our own cynical question,
We took a bite from our packet of half-eaten chips
And decided to stop thinking about this notion.

Beans which bring your tongue to linger,
Dishes that compel you to lick your fingers.
A kidney-shaped pulse,
One cooked by your mom,
You won't be able to control your impulse.

Beans grown in a climate—warm.
If you have it with rice, oh! What a charm.
If you have too much, believe me, it will harm.
Kidney beans will touch your heart.
Yes! If you overeat them, it will make you ****