Holidays are anyone’s love.

For me they are to a place,

a hill station, Coonoor

year after year.


Nothing can I say

to mom and dad

they being known

for strictness to the end.


The annual school year vacation,

two months of  April and May,

I spent in the quiet town

punctuated by walks.


Mom’s soups and salads

trigger the appetite as the

vegetables are from

the kitchen garden which she nurtures.


Enjoyable  in a way, I admit.

My cheeks turn pink, a welcome outcome.

The weather is salubrious

the environment appeals and appeases.


Monotony  does exist at times,

but the pleasantness excels.

The break inspires and the joy

I experience  knows no bounds.








Nothing much can be expressed
 Not much can be done.
 it is a tumble, a cruel one
 from the hands of the one
 whom you bore and love.

An observation crystallized
into  an advice spurted out
 all too soon before one could
apply caution. This being
not the usual  way.

it transformed into a thunderbolt.
In came screams, accuses
heading to a conflict
Master of   ceremonies
who slogged all through the days
kept stoic insisting the values
of customs and traditions.

The duo went ahead unmindful
of the hurt they had inflicted.
Miserable really!


I Become Incognito

A nomadic life
with a bit here
and a little there
 I go about in a frenzy
not knowing the
direction I am in.

I jot down few points
 read them again and again
 a kind of exercise  I willingly
 do to keep them in mind
which I never attempted a year ago
cause I  had a beautiful  memory.

The read and reread
goes to naught
as I forget most in a second
next minute I encounter
a  fresh assault
on unfamiliar issues.

Seemingly an enigma
from without, I remain
within,  recalling,
forgetting experiencing
an incoherence.


Refractive Index

At times clever
most times foolish’
could be my behaviour
a kind of  pessimism
prevails as I  observe
perhaps  echoes
 my weak optimism.

I feel insecure in a crowd

which  guffaws, talks loud
converse  unmeaningful
 a sort of reluctance,
 I experience.. Perhaps
 a fish out of water
 an idiom much used.

The part of me, which identifies
a shrewdness. rises up in full flow
floods with an unexpected force
leads me to an inebriated  mood
while my sensibility, rather my sensitivity  
 condemns the  incoherence.


How Can I Be Anything Else?

Born in a land where virtue

is worshipped,

Brought up in a family which
stresses on discipline,

Studied in a convent where
 rules are gospel.

Graduating in a college which
 mentors with an iron hand.

 I stay stiff and sober,
 an inculcation  rather.

How can I be anything else?


Migratory Terms

Time takes its wings,
flutters, flies, never pauses.
the  thirty days sojourn
comes to a close
overseeing, managing
 taking stock, reviewing
a call from homeland
halts the schedules
I hasten to a transfer

 With a small bag in hand
containing the credentials,
 I prepare for the flight,
Follow the procedures
immigration, security check,
a full  two and a half hours
wait, I undergo such trials
 month in and month out,
for a decade and half.

I will have to experience
the ordeal again  next month.
 Likening to migratory birds,
 I envy them as they fly
 free, no rules  to stop them
 start and reach when and where
they like . Could I not travel the
same way? I ask  “Move on”
cries the burly official, I stagger.


A Jaunt

A drive to the plantations  
I see my trees  looking robust
shimmering with a greenish hue

Part of the area, takes the cue
 from  the play schools, hosting
two year old. toddlers

jostling in the air
expressing a sweetness

Crossing them, I behold
 the fruits  with gold coats
 a tinge of black  runs in between

lie in heaps, shining
as the sun’s rays penetrate
 with a vengeance.

Walking along with
the harvesters, they smile
 I nod, language problem

at its height,  but we carry on
articulating gestures,  emojis as   popularly
known,  fairly better than dialogue.

A jaunt I prefer,  evocative of life
as against the hum drumming
of machines with their  mechanism.
I hear.


Truth Beguiled

I wonder  why they call
the downpour raining

cats and dogs.

Watching  the rain
fall with a  bark and  a howl
I relate to the saying.

A couple of days earlier
I observed  an interrupted drizzle
mewing and cooing.

Again associating with
the  idiom I resonate, with pride.
 acknowledging my wisdom.

Having read many connotations
I find none of them appropriate
 feel mine is the most relevant

It  reads like a   comedy
sounds silly and  light headed,

being  truth beguiled,


Flight Turns Expensive

Back  at my place of business,
 a second home as my visa says
 I step into the house, Happy
as it was perfect.

It is past midnight, I gobble
some food I brought
quench my thirst with a 250 ml
Hundred Plus, a carbonated drink.

 Lo! my wardrobe keys go missing
 I search the drawers where I keep
except the keys other belongings
 remain intact.

I go to bed worried, sleep embraces
do not know how long I slept
my milkman hoots,  with my eyes
half closed  mange to walk to the gate.

He is delighted to see me
after two and a half years,
 I grin at him sheepishly he motors  
 saying “OK, amma, take rest”.

A  simple  breakfast appeases
my hunger, while sipping
the  masala tea, droplets
fall on my lap in quick intervals,

 From where, I wonder? They
 come from my nose,  unexpectedly.
as I am in pink of my health,  quite
unaware that I am in for trouble,




My son spoke to me yesterday,
 he speaks every other day,
his words of yesterday, I quote,
 “wherever you are mom,
 houses  may vary, ambience might differ,
 places change, but you stay at home
away from the mainstream”.

“How true”! I exclaim
I drive to places inside the country,
fly to countries, spending money,
 experiencing great discomfort in flight what for?
 rushing to the airport, through immigration,
 passing through security checks,
 all for the sake of staying
at home.

What makes me do that? I do not know
 inherited?  A practice? confounded
or willing,  am unable to decipher,
 I have passed on this trait to my sons,
though in a diminished magnitude.  
They have  to pursue their profession.
My attitude bothers my husband,
 and my sons  trouble their wives.

Disturbances come from anywhere
 this one is such unexpected
 which cannot be condemned
 still causes an unpleasantness
 hard to explain and at the same time
 beyond conciliation.



it is about the namesakes
almost the same in  respects
qualification very basic
body language quixotic,
talk alike. a queer sound
 is a precursor, a drawl follows,
mincing and mumbling they carry on
an incessant chatter keeping  
those around in discomfort.

The differences being two
the initial comes foremost,
 the  most relevant distinction
one being good at heart
the other. a pack of deceit,
the former dubbed as a muff,
being plain  and nice
while the other pretends,
 a show off, revealing his ignorance.
Dramatic to the essence.

Seemingly discordant. relatively
 similar the namesakes live on
 through the decades, one harmless
 the other treacherous. World being
large enough to bear the good and bad
without any grudges,