Sunday, January 27, 2013

Barn-owl in the backyard

Wednesday, November 14, 2012

Cowrie shells


Once we were both wanderers every day.
We looked at each other and the world;
Picked up cowrie shells from the sands
As we roamed the seashores together.

The shells were of many shapes and sizes,
Smooth like porcelain and treasures;
Much like our words and thoughts then
That exuded much love and many dreams.

We spoke of cowrie shells and the seas,
The words began late but never ended,
Who you were I could never know well,
Condemned to be a wanderer after all.

You remain an enigma now; a stranger with
Whom I spoke of dreams and cowrie shells.


Saturday, August 11, 2012

The Black cat with green eyes

Monday, February 13, 2012

Shadows

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Your words dance across the pages,
They swirl and twirl and laugh.
Mine are like bits of coal before them,
I hide them away in embarrasment.

When I miss you, I seek their laughter,
Your lightness and your fooling around.
Then I remember that though like coal,
You hold them close to your face.

How else can I put a finger on my joy,
That comes to me during saddest hours.
How else can give a reason for your face,
Dark and long for so many dreadful days,

The dark shadows are still on your face,
Though it's been a long long long time.

Thursday, February 02, 2012

One last word


In the bright season of May
years ago our paths diverged;
not that I didn't love you,
yes, I did but there wasn't time.

Time, for us to start afresh
with stubbles of old loves,
for you, with your silences
and me with my clowning...

after the tears wore away
and my heart forgot its pain,
nothing remains of the old,
except a few flashes in words.

But now the world forgets not,
even after years of tears
it brings your name to me
in whispers and laughter.

True love it may have been
No longer live but in words.

Wednesday, February 01, 2012

Butterfly

Monday, January 02, 2012

Boanarges

The years have flown so fast, 
she says, in her soliloquy voice,  
a sign for me to sit up and wait 
for the final dart.
   
When it comes I'm already 
to swallow it down easily  
with a lot of lousy phlegm 
and heavens, plenty of patience. 
Yes, she loved listening to herself.  
You need to do what she did. 
You need to do things exactly  
How she used to do it all along
Hate and love, love and hate,  
She advises all her adversaries.

Thursday, November 17, 2011

The poetry of trees



Trees are poems that earth writes upon the sky, we fell them down and turn them into paper, that we may record our emptiness. Kahlil Gibran

Tuesday, November 08, 2011

The Indian Terminator





The world as portrayed by books and movies are fragments of a bigger world, events and people and objects given importance based on one's perspective of life. Jane Austen's world view was influenced by the importance she gave to love and marriage; while George Orwell saw a world that was afflicted by forms of political power; the mainstream commercial movies of Bollywood told love stories, the old wine in many new bottles.


Given the amount of publicity given to the movie, Ra-One was disappointing. The movie is only Bollywood's version of Terminator 2 : Judgment Day though not as good as the orginal. As you start viewing the movie, you are shocked by a kind of comic beginning starring Shah Rukh Khan, Priyanka Chopra and Sanjay Dutt. You feel a surge of disappointment as the movie progresses. The graphics dominate the plot and you feel that may be this movie was made for kids. But the jokes on condoms and poweryoga startle you into realising that it cannot be. As G-One bids farewell to Sonia, you are suddenly reminded of the farewell scene in Terminator 2 : Judgment Day. 


The movie comes alive somewhere in the last 45 minutes and you feel that you have wasted a lot of your valuable weekend time, watching a movie that is badly arranged anyway. The world view of the creator is rather confusing: to defeat a machine you really need another machine. The saving grace is the song "Chamak Challo" that somehow makes up for the entire movie.

Wednesday, September 07, 2011

Cross-roads

Your coffee will be cold, the very words,
That fetched you back to me just now,
When I felt years could erase a memory
That I do not wish to bring up again.

Drawing a boundary separates the terrain
Into many different nations on a map.
But is erasing a person from life the same,
For us who were so much like each other.

Conflicting memories the mind brings back,
One of love, one of hatred, one of desire,
All etched against the summer rains
And cross-roads in our individual lives

Yes, I had taken a lonely path away from you
I remember, drinking coffee.

The serious and the trivial 

In the midst of this summer tedium, we meet once again in the same old park that we used to spend our young days. In those days, you and I w...