A river
a beautiful mirror
once a free spirited clear sparkle
now a stagnant green and blue
gullible and naive she was
smiling warmth back at every leer
and sheltering all
the odds and evens
abused and left
look at her lust for life
for she still hopes for some
footsteps of love and care
to kiss life in her
and resurrect her dreams
the torn body still with
a soul alive
oh how hard she tried
to keep her wounds hidden
from the smirking eyes
but sometimes even the pride refuses
to hide the pain any more
And the breeze
she never makes any promises
she can't be customised
spreads tranquility and stench with equal
fervor
some old 'loyal' followers
still talk about her
often reminiscing the beauty she was
but then there are the things as should and could
often overpowering the done
Hope the sun shines before
she closes her eyes

There is a room in my house
a very special room
with a big window
it lets in fresh air
and filters the junk
not for myopic thoughts
but the window is kind and some say
they too have seen some sparkles
the window has a view to die for
a beautiful sunlit sky
cool breeze of contentment
fresh blossoming thoughts
and each colour of rainbow
spreading messages of love and harmony
the woods and her allies
are such great pals
invite me to every single birth
leaving me humbled every time
for I realise how small
yet important each entity is
the greens, the browns
I know them all by name
and the winged soul uncaged
floats in this world
I never ask for more
I never settle for less
I guess all my dreams
They taught me well…

Grandmother’s chest in the attic,
Waiting for someone to come near her
Ears strained to hear the known footsteps
Vision blurred with cobwebs, but her spirit is not
May be there is something for you in there may be not,
But how will you know if you don’t reach out to it?

A quilt and some handkerchiefs
A world of soft cotton and lace
Hope and warmth embroidered in each one
May be you will find solace in them may be not
But how will you know if you don’t embrace them?

Some old wrinkled and some neatly packed clothes
They have more deals and tales
Than any book or shop
The soothing whiff of love, comforting whispers
Maybe you will find them enlightening may be not
But how will you know if you don’t let them express?

At the corner of the chest are some old memories
Some letters gone yellow; some brown
Some old pictures; of a naughty little ******* a swing
Of a free spirited woman before and after her marriage
Oh! the beautiful carefree past and their echoes
Maybe you will find some mantra in them maybe not
But how will you know if you don’t ask?


Hope, love, warmth, inspiration and some surprises in store
The old neglected chest can be full all this and more
An old set of dentures desperate to share her story
An old eye glass full of wisdom
This may be your lucky day may be not
You may find something valuable, may be not
But how will you know....

Yes, there are angels in the net,
I can prove it and I am ready to bet.

They send me mails every day offering me money,
From Nigeria to London, all set to make my days sunny.

All they want from me is to open an account and deposit few thousand bucks,
And all this at an assurance, that I will have millions in my hands, what a luck!

People jealous of me say, whole thing is a lie and a scam,
And that I should mark them and put them in a spam.

There is no way I am going to pay heed and put these offers in trash,
Am not going to ignore, in the fear that my computer can be hacked or it will crash.

Why will Mrs Langers, whose dying husband left me a lot of money, lie?
And the Sheikh! who sees a lot of potential in me, is all from Dubai.

An online lottery just declared I won millions without buying the ticket,
I deserve all the money of his kingdom, says Mr.Fickett.

This is it I will deposit all the money I have in their account right now,
And since I will be rich pretty soon, I am naming this, as Project Cash Cow.

I could have been this and I could been have that,
But there were too many hurdles and the plans fell flat.

I could have been like her, a very big star,
But my bad luck, opportunities were few and far.

I had the grace; I could have been a dancer,
But there were too many objections with no solutions or answers.

I had a sweet voice; I could have been a singer,
But I was sole earner of family, and it sponged me dry like a wringer.

I played so well with colours, I could have been a painter,
But the paints were costly and with no one to guide, dreams became fainter.

I had skills; I could have been anything I wanted,
All I needed was a spirit which would have saved me from being daunted.

Is it too late to start again?
Pick up the brush or the pen and let my dreams be my swain?

Just let go of all resentments and start!
And not let the past tear my present and future apart!

It has been so tiring, carrying disappointments and resentments for so long,
Let me start fresh as if I was born today, fire the passion and let it grow strong.

Yes, that's what I will do, I owe it to myself and this god gifted life,
I will not cry over what I didn't get, instead use gift and opportunities which today are rife.

Yes, that’s the way to go; I will give my best shot to my dreams and what I always wanted to be,
For if the world ends tomorrow I will be contented and proud to have taken that dip and rescued me.

To meet Bickchaak boo, the scariest ghost ever
You have to be a ghost fanatic and extremely clever

For ghosts don’t like to be seen with fools
Who keep calm and never lose their cool

See all the horror movies as soon as you can
A ghost shows himself only to his true fans

You have to own a manor creepy enough for a ghost
Better, if the house is near a lighthouse on some coast

There is something about a light house that a ghost loves
And be careful not to have around garlic cloves

You have to have a backyard very dark
For these are the places where ghostly spirits lark

Every creaky sound you have to follow
Even if it leads you to the spooky gallows

Make a lot of noise at even the smallest possible sound
Or how else will the ghost know that you are around!

Always run through the wild towards a graveyard
And once you reach there always walk backwards

Last but not the least is the most important part
Once you understand this you are all set to start

**Ghosts don’t advertise, if you don’t believe they are not there
But to not have faith and still ask for favours is not considered fair.

Often has been said that our body is a temple
That a real devout would keep it clean in and out
And save it from spiritual drought.
Are we religious enough?

That is my only doubt.