I Talk To Myself

Going in circles,
I do not reach
the destination.

Back to the place
I started, look
for a resolution.

Be at ease,I
tell myself, “do not deliberate
right now.”

I keep calm.  “Forget
for now”,
I say to myself.

It does wonders,
I relax, sleep and pay
less  attention.

I will resolve
as the mind is clear.



That Of East And West

An Indian couple
celebrate the sixtieth anniversary.
Ritualistic in detail
set sixty one brass kudams,
fill with holy water,
keep sixty one coconuts
invert them on the kudams
insert five mango leaves,
thread dipped in turmeric
goes around the vessel
homams follow, the brahmanas
perform the puja. Colourful

Being a reflection of Hindu culture,
enjoyable. As if to diminish
the  aesthetic sense the man
draws his wife close,
presses his lips on her cheek,
tells the assembly, his gift
to his  loving wife.
Expects an applause.
Appalling. Relatives shy,

An admixture of east and west
not in proportion.


The Fox And The Grapes

I read repeatedly
“The fox and the Grapes.”
relate to this Aesop Fables.
Might be I am like the protagonist.

The fox leaps  several times
Cannot reach the top
where the grapes remain.

Hides his frustration.
Concludes the grapes are sour.
Pretends he is not affected.

I try hard to achieve.
When it turns elusive,
the words of the fox
ring the bell in my mind.

Optimism returns.



An Experience Of Contentment

In a home walled on three sides
the fourth partly protected
allows a flow of traffic.

Sitting on the  raised platform
I greet a peacock accompanied
by his wife and three peachicks
They stray through the greenery.

The male flaunts the feathers
dances.  Creates a fantastic posture,
seems a painting in turquoise,
while his better half coos with love
goes around him in adoration.

Hounds  barge in all in a sudden
Snarl, attack the the dancer’s tribe.
who take flight.

They dig the ground,
behave atrocious,
cause a mess of the place.

After an interval, I hear
a flutter,  witness a  jump
from pillar to post. The  monkey
snatches the magazine from me.
Am surrounded by  a gibberish  chatter.

Terrified I rush inside.
come out after an hour.
Find the cows grazing.
It is serene. Tranquillity.

The stream,  I perceive,
differs from the vehicular where
smoke permeates, din pervades.






The Wire Snaps

In  discussion
with Lawrence, I notice the tone.
sucharged with impidence.

Loud are his views
impregnant with  arrogance.
An egoist leaves no space
for others to express..

Advises and admonishes
at the same time. Neglects his

My  poor ears suffer
as they cannot fold.
One of the five senses
that are open always

The wire snaps.
For once, I am grateful,
cause  being the customer
of a deficient telephone corporation.


Exits and Flyovers

The cars move
straight they go,
turn not either way.

Arrive at a busy city  sign boards indicate
directions to reach
the destinations.

I fall asleep throug the journey
wake up at the toll,
blink for a while
see the thoroughfare in awe.

Driving exact so long,
the  driver encounters complications
to pursue the road signs
messes up and lands
in the wrong place.

Again, he navigates,
exits, roundabouts
and flyovers
distract him. He struggles.

Approach the destination
which is at stone throw
after an hour. I choose
not to travel again.


A worthy resolution?







It Is a Bharatanatyam Recital

I witness Nirupa perform.
She is a year old.

Her mom carries her to the stage.
Places her in the centre.

The child bows  to the crowd.
Begins the show with a Pusphanjali.

Pauses in between, glances at her mother,
sits  on the floor, relaxes, while the musicians play.

Her mother prompts her to stand and continue.
Nirupa  refuses, cries for milk.

The girl in the  splendid dance  costume
and  exquisite  jewellery looks miserable.






Do You Feel The Way I Do?

I ask my friends, now and again.

One of them says,
“Why do you keep on asking?”
with a disdain.

The other  mocks,
“You are off the mind.”
with a chuckle

The third  speaks,
I  experience,
she is in my scale.

I act with no thought,
after a time reflect.
An introspection unlimited.

Being a killer
a non performer on occasions.
I chase, weigh, and fall.









Take Back The Gifts

Meera watches,
the mother-in -law scream.

“Take back the gifts,” the senior lady shouts.

It is the eve of Deepavalli.

The infuriated brother of Meera
walks out with the presents.
She sobs,
“what  more can a girl of twenty plus do?

Subjected to continuous
 resolves not to take part
in  festivals in the ancestral house.


She picks her bags
leaves in a huff.

Tells her boys,
“We are going back,
no more of celebrations
in this village.”

The eldest who is five,
consoles, “Mom, we will
burst crackers and enjoy
at home. Do not worry.”

The younger one nods his head.
Meena fondles him. He wipes
the tears. Gently kisses her.



The Smash

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