Sunday, March 24, 2013

The jar full of stories!

When there is a story to tell
It just overwhelms my heart,
Like an unruly mountain stream
Can’t hold back, can’t wait to start.

And then the story twists to turns
the ebbing tide leaves an empty shore,
I collect the trinkets, left in the debris,
In pretty jars with tight lids, I store.

Blue, green, red, pink, yellow,
All the bright colors in full glory
The shelves lined in neat rows
Each holding its own story!

Tuesday, May 24, 2011


A dollop of strawberry pink
A squeeze of lemon yellow
A sprig of minty green
Under the blue summer sky

Is my perfect recipe for a Sunday!

Sunday, October 25, 2009


I feel happy. Rather elated with a lofty feel. There is so much to discover so much of knowledge i need to uncover. Just finished reading Palace of Illusions and and suddenly there is a feeling germinating in me to belive in the devine. All would make more sense more meaningful. The whole journey more fulfilling.

Thursday, August 14, 2008


Listless wishless...
Counting the moments wiz past
Still there is anticipation
Some fancy imagination
Caught a glimpse in a wink
Look back to see it all blank

Dizzy tizzy going crazy
Spin spin spin like a top
Everything strewn around
Swear it makes a pretty sight
Whats the story - morning glory?
Are you all right?

Wednesday, January 24, 2007


Have grown this wonderful way of ‘detached existence’ – living in a limbo, floating in a limitless bottomless tub of ether.

Infact it is therapeutic. You can just pull up the callous cover and pretend to be in a trance. Need not even bat your lids when something of real consequence occurs. Or you can pretend to be a fish with no lids at all …just glare glare glare hard but at nothing particular with a brooding look on your face.

How does it matter if some more skulls are dug up of some Nihari village kids, heat or cold wave, flood or drought, tsunami or Vidharba destitution kills some hapless soul in some far away village…town…city. It’s not my business; it does not affect my SEC A+ segment.

Even bombs on local train don’t blast my stupor. Blame it on their Karma! I have been oiling my karma chakra (wheel of fortune).

I am a true Gandhian. I seen no evil, hear no evil and definitely speak no evil.

I am a Magician. I don’t just fool my audience with myself too.

I am a person with strong conviction – I truly believe in my every day lies and make a honest living.

I have no roots, nor arms to reach up to the sky. I am not existent but not insignificant. I am there as a small cog in the big wheel. I figure somewhere in scheme of things.

I have been bleeding for a while, but I left my wounds open too long. Now I am scared to touch it, fear to disturb the ecology. Let it be…Karma will take its toll.

Sometimes in the stillness of the night I can hear a gnawing sound. Something burrowing into my heart, spreading into my brain… the hole keeps growing till it fills me up, or till I cave in.

Why am I bothered, I have a well-maintained Karmic balance sheet. The records guarantees my re birth to the next higher-level non-existence.

Wednesday, December 27, 2006

No Resolutions!

A clean new slate. Start from the scratch.
Words fill in with full stops & comas
Some lines scratched out, words over written
Squiggly sketches, doodles on the margin
Lone words hanging lame in different colours
Hurriedly scribbled mobile numbers with no names

The clean sheet starts getting filled up in an order
Then gets into chaos …Stop Stop, I didn’t plan it this way

Shall I just tear off this page in throw it in the bin?
It is a waste – nothing but memories
Some sweet, still makes me smile in a busy day for a while
Some bitter, still makes a lump, which I have learnt to gulp

Some I don’t just any more care about!

I will save this sheet in a folder and keep it safe
Maybe another spring-cleaning I will find it
And then again sit and ponder…
Is it worth carrying the old baggage?