You are enough
Enough of you
Are you sure
Obscure

One’s silence
Is often spoken about, by others

Silence is peaceful
Often misunderstood by the clamorous

The silence told
Often brings discomfort to the hearer

Silence is manifold
Manifests itself to the bearers

The lamp on the tree
Hung low and free
Scattering light
Magical fireflies
In a golden bell jar

The pink sky
At sunset, painted fresh
And the beach, at a stretch
Wore a million silver stars

The tall and slender palms
flowery fronds
Stood in a dark grey shiny vase
Straight, some slightly bent

The olive green turtles
Took baby steps
As the blue waves
Crashed on the shore

What burned brighter
The orange flame rising from
the evening lamp
Or in the backdrop
the setting sun in its orange home
Both wore a warm glow
The journey
Beginning to end

Moulds and mold
Shape it right or let it rot
Meanings to words
As you seek

The festive season soon to begin
No matter what the rains have to pour
Can’t dampen the spirit of festivities
Mother goddess, the divine
Will protect and provide
Empower and inspire
In days ahead
Of unwavering sunshine

Sometimes sappy
Mostly happy

Together
Apart

The sappy tries
Happy has its own time

Give them their space
Know yours well
The boundaries and fences
Keep them flexibly strong

The lemon tree
Only upward it knew
Hung yellow flavours
Savoury sour its fruits
On twigs and branches
And thorns too
With a zing and zest for life
Blessed, it grew

Mossy green, old concrete roof

The rains had drilled and trilled in holes

A lone green made its way up

Canopying the place, its home

Riverfront path, lined with trees
The Temple, fresh flowers and incense
Peculiar the fragrance
Sound of Incantations and ringing bells
From a different time
Distant, yet so closely familiar
The memory of this place

We are all but
Images
In the eyes of others
perceived
In one’s own
believed
The truth
The lies
Dire
Premise
Fire and ice
Sugar and spice
Ingredients to life
Diluted
Created
Distilled
Images

Fiery red,  rage free

Greens have gone into slumber

Hope and peace awaits

Shoulders slouch

The limbs attached to the strings
In hands of the puppeteer

Do the dance, or do not bend

There is a chance
You dance

Or learn to ignore

The hands of the puppeteer

✨✨

It was a lovely morning and the day,
Special, my son’s 16th birthday
Happy and busy with the preparations
But there was something amiss
Couldn’t put my hand or heart on
The day was fine, but by evening there were signs, sickness crept up its way

An out of this world experience
My jumpy heart raced between its place and fist, and the pulse on my wrist
Devoid of any feeling, my fingers numb

The lungs screamed
To be left alone, in silence  
With the painless calm
And the pain, unseen

The chaos outside was too much to bear
My heart weakened by the deafening noise
Wanted this break, from some, I prayed
Believe it or not, god listened to my prayer

Fear disillusioned
Too many places, invited
Never the one to travel
At loss, amidst the chaos

I felt a deep pull
In the eyes of my husband and children
They wanted me to be fit and fine
The other side allured me, twice
In my mind, I swayed on both the sides

I remembered the words and faces of my ageing parents
I knew they would be worried
Parents, never fail you
Wise and old, they have great advice

To stay safe from, I tried, but couldn’t
The virus and I took head on
Single combat, the family safe
No more on the battleground
Self isolation done

Home isolation worked well for me
Locked in my room, with the windows facing the road, my days, alone, duly spent
The room lights on during the nights
Been longing for a break since March
Albeit, in a beach resort

Music has the power to heal
Takes you to places, language free
Pre booking, no requisites
My quarantine sojourn complete

Physically I could be weak
But mentally I am strong
With infinite hope and love of the family
Yes from the clutches of the virus
Came back alive, I survived

If words could speak for themselves
Then they are best, written
Spoken, they are sinusoidal
Unless, the wavelengths match

Thank you so much, my dear friends at Hp
My family of poets and poetesses
For reading my words and sharing yours
It’s always home here, I reckon

🌿🌿

The lake shimmers in golden velveteen

A gift from the sun, at sundown

The palm trees lined up in rows

The birds flew into the branches

For the gala evening show

🌿✨✨🌿

Dispassionately detached
The flower from the stem falls
Its fragrance lingers
in the last moments
A life devoted to its deed
In time, with revered passion fulfilled
🥀

Promises it has kept

In fine latticed silver chain
Cascading, tiny silver bells

The paisley leaf hook, embellished with
pearls and semi precious stones
Antique and pure, the melody
The charm and chimes of the bells
Sparkling silver anklets
Held memories of occasions prime

Bespoke vintage jewellery

From silversmiths of old repute and times
Generations of happiness
Strengthening bonds

Violet buntings
Lamps and jasmine sticks
The temple of peace

Forged in the fire
Unfinished and unrefined
The sharp edges, uneven
The fabric it cut
Stitched the same
Different patterns
Revealed
The scissors made a mark

The sun set right behind him
While he tried to match his steps
Busy, the last hours of the daylight has always brought him the best
His lens captured the shining moments
As the sun set


✨✨

She kept others busy
By speaking nineteen to the dozen
Doing nothing

At her every beck and call
Utilising their time
Wasting all

It took years of understanding
Productivity and efforts, work
Value of time, of all

✨

Every new thought that comes to my mind  

The words warn me with a sign of exhaustion of the mines

“Do not deplete our resources
Please keep in check your carbon footprints”

👣

The syllable slid
Into the wild, fragrant words
Spread in pithy verse

Do not suggest me
On what to follow
You have eaten the cookie
Better clean up the mess
No crumbs on my floor
Suggest me not
Leave no trace
I’ll hide and remove unnecessary suggestions
I know what I want
And can take my own decisions

A melange of browns and greens
Styled in a stream, where twigs float, flashing emerald green
A new life, germinating within
Colours on the canvas, dripping
A splash of yellow, winsome pinks
The barks of trees, have scaled heights
The canopy and foliage to kiss sunlight

Golden sun, smudged in the grey clouds
White mists, and the distant green hills
Shivering cold,
the leaves on the trees, stand still
Reflection of the sun,
smiles in orange hues,
forming ripples on the beauteous lake
Red roofed cottage, a glorious sight
Duck shaped boats, allure the travellers
For a tranquil ride

Windswept trees
Rain washed roads
The Koel meekly sings, perched upon the neem tree
The curry leaves, cup together
to catch the raindrops, which roll down with ease
The slender stems, sway and swirl
Spreading an aromatic fragrance
As the raindrops do the tapioca dance
with the red rounded berries and leaves
The butterflies flit in search of nectar, supreme
The yellow oleander flowers to match their wings of lime green
The dragonflies have puddles to keep
Buzzing around in brown translucent wings
This day, today, to be reminisced someday
In a sepia toned, old photograph

I write not
Not, for a dearth of thoughts
Sometimes let them have a natural death,
the thoughts
Always lived, in the mind
Oftentimes in a world of words
They are wrought

The moon knew its shade
And never once it changed
Forms it changed,
As forever it should
Promises made
Forever
Unchanged

Gentle genuineness
Gentleness of words
Genuinely felt by gentle hearts

Flippant  persuasiveness
The words, persuade
Upheavals, irregular, pulse of the heart

The kittens grew in numbers
Found nesting behind the old coolers
His joy knew no bounds
New life, found, alive and kicking
The mourning of the little birdie
Was soon filled with acceptance of the new
There, in brown and black stripes
Quite like their mom
Sticking together as glue
Their bodies kept warm
The mother has a lot of feeding to do
She has milk and a warm place to sleep
Some old rugs to keep
Perceptions change
Every life, has to have a chance
In a glance
Acceptance and experience
Matter
It’s life after all

Last of its remains, hung
The yellow leaf
precariously strung on the the tender yellowed stem
As the yellow copper pod flowers
Came down along with the rains
On the vibrant green leaves
And fell on the pavement clean


🍂🌿🌿🍂

There is always
Something someplace someone there
To inspire you

The little bird chirps
Eats healthy worms
Her mama and papa feed
She is ever hungry and sweet
Hidden in between the basil leaves
Danger lurks and meows
The little bird knows no fear
She is full of mirth in her baby steps
Ever cautious the parents
Keep a close watch on the baby’s steps
Her wings have grown and she  
wants to be limitless and touch the sky
But before that, she must learn to fly
Her parents preach
She loves to explore, and so does the cat
She is
Well fed with milk and chicken wings
Yet greedily
She goes for the little bird
And cuts off its flight and her little wings
With a mouthful and a sly smile, the cat  walks away with her act
The parents’s shrill cry in the morning hours
Stabs my heart and gives out a helpless cry
Sick and Locked indoors
In her limited life
The little bird brought joy and hope
In her flightless baby steps
May her soul fly into the infinite
And be limitless

✨✨

The vile have their thoughts
And capes full of evil spell

Slim are your chances
To go unscathed

Use no words
Just wear your lucky charm

Two planters placed side by side
One big and black
Other one, white and smaller in size
Both stood on brass stands,
with succulent plants
In askance or maybe agreement
Of their shelf life on a display table

☘️☘️

Peaceful and quiet
The night
Occasionally the crickets chirp
Dusk and dawn, duties they perform
The red vented bulbul is first to sing
Awaits the sky to be blue again
While the morning star, dons the golden robe
Promising a brand new day

🌿✨✨🌿

Unleash the words
Truthful and mindful
But causing hurt
As you sow, so shall you reap
The fruits borne, instantaneously
To be consumed alone
Never left for posterity
A pact with the divine, as a child sealed
To be at peace

🌿✨✨🌿

Frozen in a frame
In monochrome
Quintessential the fashion and
The whimsy rains

It allows you not, to dawdle
Gently you are pushed to be a part of the daily cavalcade

A rainy day in the metro
From times retro

Do not write off someone
Even if you have read the chapters in depth
Your perception wouldn’t be same as that of the author
Their truth matters

There is a language spoken
Between the leaves and the breeze
Peacefully green, the leaves
Ever changing the velocity of the breeze
Ancient and eternal their relationship


🌿🌿