A quaint little bazaar
In the heart of the town
Tells a story
Of a thousand moments
Dal Bazaar as they call it
Or "Curry Market" for others who don't know.
I have fragments of memorable memories
Deep within my mind
The smell
The intoxicating smell of spices
Blended with the quiescent yet cacophonous lives
Of Merchants and Beggars
Of Buyers and Sellers
Of Bullions and a single calloused rupia
In the hands of the old *****.
The sunlight baking
Bags of turmeric.
Suspending the scent
In the minds of men.

Capering clouds of black and grey
And the sudden squall
Stirring the monotony
Of the customary.
The pirouette of rain
The one that excites the plainest of the plain
Painting the whitewash with shades of grey
The chalky walls
Dust
Moist corriander
And the relief of earth
Conciliating
So rewarding
For the ruins of the bare sun.

This flashback into my soul
Where all my senses seem to be so awake.
The feel of the wooden veranda
Scent so inexpressible
My eyes devouring the sunset
Tasting the heavens
Hearing it all.
Feeling it all.
Oh the plight of poets
The ritual to end a poem.
Painful.

"Eee Eee" says the pink plastic rhino
melting onto the pavement
and so goes your childhood but
you must wonder who bought
that pink plastic rhino that shrieks
"Eee Eee" so loudly that nobody
hears it and why?

Boom.
There goes the neighborhood.
The trees, the house, the swings
and the pink plastic rhino
that so lively once "Eee Eee"d.

My smile exist, because you do.

A light walks slowly across the horizon.
It steps on the ground and dances with the earth.
While it sings unboundedly,
It brightens up the sky.
It comes close to you and throws its light.
At that moment, your soul becomes bright.

Light the darkness;
However deep the darkness is,
However endless the darkness is,
The light is never too small.
Your light is sufficient to light that place.

A light comes slowly across from the horizon.
A boat sways with the waves.
A melody sings cheerfully.
A flower of stars shines bright.
The light comes close to you and throws its light.
At that moment, your soul becomes bright.

Light the darkness;
However deep the darkness is,
However endless the darkness is,
The light is never too small.
Your light is sufficient to light that place.

I like to pretend
I no longer have a heart
but sometimes
I pull it out of the bottom drawer
and speak to it
just so it knows
that I know
its still there
and apologize
for all I have poured over it
to bury its existence
and all the times
I gave it to the undeserving
I make promises
that it will be freed again
someday
then safely tuck it away
and sneak back out of her house.

The beauty of the heart

is the lasting beauty:

its lips give to drink

of the water of life.

Truly it is the water,

that which pours,

and the one who drinks.

All three become one when

your talisman is shattered.

That oneness you can't know

by reasoning.