A Twist to The Tale

It cannot be a fact,
that breaks my back,
makes me crazy
I turn dizzy.

it being a blatant lie
emanates from the sly
just an onslaught
one being bought.

Enraged I walk up and down.
my eyes knot in a frown,
I fume, froth and sigh
with my head held high.

Momentarily I am upset
after pick the strains instead.
wish to dash their hopes
and roll them down the slopes.

My upbringing restrains
I set aside the pain.
Resolve to shun their gossip
will catch them before they slip.


We Are Here For You

Reluctant with myself 
a tinge of abhorrence

I set aside the chores,
a mood of contemplation,
is on the anvil 

Of late, I go into moods
unknowing I succumb
to exasperation.

Fresh milk curdles, 
food turns stale.
I lie awake.

Doors remain closed
curtains are drawn 
days turn dark.

Hours pass. I recline 
in my bed gazing 
at the roof.

Rise up to a harsh 
knock on the windows,
with a struggle. 

Pull the curtains
find it is the wind,
while about to pull back,

I could not withdraw
from seeing the 

The yellow rose 
puts up a warm smile, 
the red poppies nod affably

white lilies beckon with grace
the huge Neem tree 
bows in obeisance,

all of them seem to say
” we are here 
for you.”


The Loose Ends

The sari draped
over the shoulder
hangs like a pendulum
oscillate in the breeze.

Freely suspended
loose ends look elegance
I do not restrict the flow
with a brooch or a matching pin.

It is hard to comprise
and enlist their manifold
usages, handy and soft
being ever at disposal.

I splash water on my face
do not seek a towel
wipe the face and hands
and soften the lips with the ends.

In the kitchen, swiftly I
deploy them to lift
the pots from the stove
never seek grippers or gloves

Certain to win the slot,
they are the best pacifiers,
my sons roll and shove them
into the mouth and turn happy.

I walk out of the house.
in haste. Encounter unexpected
shower at times and harsh sunlight
most, pass the ends over my head.

Engage in discussions
I fold and unfold, knot
or unknot, according to
the plight I encounter.

Passionate of the loose ends,
I run my fingers through them.
straighten the fold and swing
them on the shoulder.

A pleasant mixture that of
the aroma of food, the smell
of saliva of the kids, of my own
emanates and fills.


The High Rise

I fear looking at high rise buildings
if any one falls what would happen?
Know I am being childish
the apprehension prevents
me from watching them,
I close my eyes while
passing through, move
in hurried pace.

The place where I live
holds too many of them
the additions recent
with floors hard
to count makes me giddy.
I have to set my eyes
on those around whichever ‘
directions I turn.

It is a vertical growth,
going high is an ambition
rising up the ladder is
an aspiration, reaching the
top is a reward. Never so,
as in this manner fixing one
above the other pronounces
a not down to earth act, but
a detachment from ground reality .


A Birthday Party

of a twenty -one year girl
with all fanfares and rejoice.
begins .

Thirty make the gathering,
in a high end place, a club
celebrations very sophisticated
latent with overtures.

Dad and daughter
arm in arm walk
the mother and siblings
a step behind,

enter to loud music
electric make do
fire works burst
with a brilliance.

The usual birthday song
cheers the place,
soon after the dinner

Beer and Whisky
do their rounds
few games keep
the children engaged.

Bordering on snobbery,
involves a catch, to humour
dad’s business partners
and customers.

Motivation being explicit
t\he rest of the night
goes on with dancing
and making merry.

Dad is sure to attain his target
sales, the girl’s birthday
a clever ploy to enhance