A few drivers,
mid-summer afternoon

lean against the divider,
paint peeling

some perch on it lightly---
indulge in hot group-talk;

the waltzing-shadow
of a banyan tree
opposite side of the
auto-rickshaw stand---

a street-art, delicate, dark-hued;

the phantom arms
hug
the disparate crew
in a tight family-embrace,
its breath tousling their hair

and it---
protects them from
the Mumbai heat!
@Sunil Sharma

It took me years
to fall in love with myself.
It was a foreign idea
throughout my childhood.
I remember the jealousy I felt
for the girls with flawless skin,
and perfectly straight hair.
I thought they were beautiful,
and they were,
but not in the most natural way.
I wanted to be the girl
who was beautiful
after rolling out of bed at noon
without any makeup
besides the mascara
from the night before.
I wanted to be the girl
who was effortlessly beautiful
without giving it a second thought.
I always admired those girls.
I loved the security
that radiated off them,
like the shimmer of sunshine
on delicately tan skin.
It took me years
to become one of those girls.
It was a slow process.
It took the shedding
of a society built for
flawless makeup ridden
artificially created beauty.
It took acceptance
for who I am without the mask.
It took forgiveness
for the flaws I was blessed with at birth.
It took years,
but I'm finally there.
I'm one of those
naturally beautiful girls.
I'm one of those girls
that could careless about shaving,
or washing their hair.
I'm a girl without cares.
I'm a girl in love with herself.

Your spirit has the smell of earth,
kissed by first rain,
effervescent with scent of promise,
Your spirit has the smell of the sea shore,
the breeze, sweet with the salty spray of power.
Your spirit has the smell of the mountain side, grassy meadow wild with fragrance of untame flowers
Your spirit has the smell of a monastery, mystic camphor serene thoughts of living.
Your spirit has the smell of the battle,
blood, gore, flesh and fight
Your spirit has the smell of a maiden
out from her scented bath,
sensual, drip dripping
Your spirit has the smell of forest,
wild sweaty, hot and humid.
Your spirit has the scent so honest,
of love pure tho rugged and rough

I’ve spent my time dancing with the waves,
Back and forth, a fun little game.
A splendid step, a tentative twirl,
this feeling becomes no tidal wave.

I’ve spent my time yelling at the breeze,
Empty words unreturned, a relaxing exchange.
No biting reply, just the biting cold,
this courtship is no whirlwind.

I’ve spent my time trembling with the earth,
Captivating and swaying, powerful and strong.
Fearless it quakes, but not in anger
this occasion brings no after shock.

I’ve spent my time with you,
A step, a fight, a world-shaking moment.
Much less safe, much more real
naturally a disaster.

In a world where natural tendency
And temptation is feared
But hatred and ignorance
Make us comfortable
We that love and we that see
Are crushed by responsibility.

"And so ...." said the moon to the sun "I need you just as you need me and yet we can never be together for long.
Sometimes in those early mornings, where you rise before I go to sleep I am lucky enough to get a glimpse of your beauty and the way you shine your light.
I always dream of staying, of being with you side by side but even though your beauty is magnificent, I can only exist in its shadows.
I sleep while you shine and while I shine you sleep and when the time comes for you to say goodnight, as the horizon turns from yellow to orange to red and purple you exit the day just as majestically as you entered.
It is my turn now to glow and light up this world, in the way that I know how.
You and me, we are needed" said the moon to the sun as he watched her with wonder and love and the knowledge that one could not exist without the other.

I sleep but even in my evening slumber
Hear the sounds of summers coming thunder
Cringing and receding from the screeching sound of screaming
Mother earth beseeching while her creatures keep retreating
Scorch marks scar the fragile dirt
Pox and plague for self centered worth
Rain drops heavy as anvils
Hitting ******* my ceiling tiles till
They plunder my vacant eyes robbing them of their wonder
I turn to my tormenter screaming at the thunder
Be gone foul tempest haunt me no more
For I am but a fragile human being and you’re a superior storm
With your vaporous manifestation shocking presentation in fluid form
The storm replied shattering the stillness of my life
With a bolt two feet to the left of me that seared my eyes
Sockets dry the storm left no tears to cry
Singed I sobbed silently heaving and weeping
**** you nature