Thursday, September 29, 2016

Always been a romantic

Sunday, July 10, 2016

The solitary reaper

I am a solitary reaper, singing in the fields,
I keep pace with the sun from dawn till dusk;
I sing and speak to the hills and the dales,
And I hum all day to the beat of my sickle.


The valleys echo my solemn voice to me,
I forget the long hours as I keep humming;
My song changes its hue from hour to hour
And I love to sing of loves, lost or gained.

Sometimes, I sing of epic battles of yore
Bending over my sickle in the green fields;
Sometimes, a passing stranger stops to listen,
Lingering over the soft music that he hears.

I see him smiling at my lonely song and me,
As he moves away, I get back to work again.

Sunday, July 03, 2016

Spring


Somewhere after the terrible times, after the turmoil is over, there has to be a spring,

When your footsteps will be like before, sprightly and fast not like the drag of feet across these interminable winter,

May be only you will be left behind to tell the tale, how this went from joy to misery in a single day.

Sense of loss


In a throw of a dice,
In a move of hand,
You threw away all
Went into sanctuary.

The songs of loss,
That spoke of you,
The tiny wings left
To learn to fly itself.

The seething pain
The story of losses
Come back again
In its full sense.

You choke your tears
Without a goodbye.

Wednesday, June 29, 2016

Ma

















All I wanted was a pink book full of recipes;
Like the one she wanted to leave behind;
The family kitchen smelling of spices,
Christmas, roast chicken and plum cake.

The shopping spree just before Christmas,
Cake-making at midnight done together,
Your recipes followed to the last line
And the tweaks to the plans that I make.

This book of magic remains incomplete;
The Christmas flavours linger in the air;
Goodwill, happiness and the first time
I had celebrated Christmas with flavours.

The book of recipes, your cooking secrets;
All are lessons that I have learnt from you.

Pic: mariasmenu.com

Remembrance



You and I,
These magical words,
I can never utter,
About another.
You and I,
Like day and night,
Never meet but to play
Hide and seek,forever.
You and I,
Carry an unspoken love,
Unfulfilled yet deep,
Hidden like a treasure.
You and I,
Away but together,
In sleepless nights,
And lonely hours.
You and I,
Wordsmiths who love
To coalesce liquid pain,
Into songs of remembrance.
And you and I,
Like parellel lines,
Stretch across miles,
Strange before strange eyes.

Tuesday, June 28, 2016

Definitions


You were no bride in red;
Only a widow-heart unwed;
Yet with the seasons came
A spot of red in your hands.

I was no prince charming;
Only a lonesome wanderer;
Yet with the seasons came
A boat song on these lips.

We moved along these lines
Along these definitions;
In the end you are a wanderer
And I have turned widow-heart.

Yet these roles reverse and turn
Bring no comfort only despair. 

Home

Home is where your heart goes back time and again, where you want to spend your quality time enjoying the activities that you like. Home i...