I just love how people lie on you just to throw mud on your name.

hunter walked
through the forest
with  an axe
trees whispered,
the handle
made from
one of us

The old church.
The old man stood so quite outside the church.
He stood there for a long time.
Then he walks a little closer.
He said to no one
Can't you hear the sweet music coming from inside.
They sing so loud and what a pretty song.
Now the preacher is given his best service.
The church had faded paint on it. The doors were old and ready to fall.
But the old man stood and smiled, as I said to him.
The old church is abandoned these days.
Then the old man laughed as loud as he could. Then said to me.
No church is abandoned as long as it has been blessed with God loving people.

"Go Slow", I told my life in January
"I want to take this journey at your pace"
"I want to build those bridges again"
"I want to complete you as I would always want"

"Hello!” I heard a call from the near far.  
Was it really a response from the healing heart of February?!
"I hold the right to set your pace"
"I hold the right to bless you sleeps"
“I hold the right to curse you sleeplessness"
“I decide the right for you in everything"

Until the obscene April summer turned up,
It was not life; but the Cyclone’s desire to fell everything en route.
I learned; there might be things to cherish
But would not want to own again

Rains in Kerala carry the rhythms of life
I once again made those paper boats
At my pace, as the 10 year old,
And as July demanded
Life grew deeper within, in that rhythm of rains
Nursing the one who nursed me for long
I learned, there are only cycles in life,
There is only movement in life

The flight took off, despite the pedantic reasons thrown over the tarmac
In that morgue of frozen mummies, I felt the futility of expectations
My Wings of fantasies halted, on top of the panoramic Great Wall
In the arc lights of award night, I enjoyed the pleasure of losing
Walking alone the Washington streets, I found the walks of life...

November comes concealing a lot; it conceive sorrows
It grows a detached attachment within and around you
November reinforces the relativity in everything
Life, love, respect, trust and confidence

I like the reds in December, it's flamboyance
I like the irony of "hope" brought in by this very end!
There are only cycles in life, no gains or losses
There is only movement in life, some forward
And some stuck in the maze and not knowing which way.