Sometimes some event just make us stand in front of our-self. The “me” that we buried or just get hazed and lost with the time come to us to meet us. And that’s where the commotion started–what I was, what I am now. Many a time this worked as the catalyst of the drastic decision … Continue reading What is Eating You, Man?
We left the past to be past; the last few months seems to be a dream, and now when we wake up this also seems to dream of that dream. The tree that had to die for looking at the eye now a hole, (where) the electrician works on the pole to let the rooms … Continue reading Color of Waiting is…
A surrealistic chiaroscuro painted the time. Time will change is a known thing–from ante to post and post to ante over the meridian. The present will become memories and the past will record them in its bosom–blue and dark. Future will be the magician looking for the bunny in his hat till the dramatic music … Continue reading National Poem Writing Month 2020: Day 30: Samsara or Livin’ in the Surrealistic Time
(I have no reminiscent of yours, only some scattered shorts or bits) Dida used to recollect you as a pup who resembles a cub of a wolf. And you are looking through the open leads of cane basket with your wet nose protruding out. She also used to recollect you as a big wolf who … Continue reading National Poem Writing Month 2020: Day 29: Lassey, My Guardian Angel
in memory to my Dida… The morning was the amphitheatre and the room was the stage. I opened my eyes and alert to the voice clear and coming closer. It’s Sanskrit. She’s chanting the hundred eight names of Krishna. Her voice now can be heard outside the window. Listen, Hush. The window a rectangle with … Continue reading National Poem Writing Month 2020: Day 28: Camphor