Category Archives: thoughts

A Disaster


My cell phone takes my life out,
I hear the caller
but my voice does
not go beyond, At one time
wanted to throw it,

I say hello,
the one on the other end
cannot hear me,
I shout with all my might.
the voice does not travel.

The mobile rings
without break. I answer
without fail. None could
hear me. Looks as though
I have become incognito.

I break my head to solve,
power off the phone
switch it on, restart,
how many times I did?
I really do not know.

Disgusted, I bury my head
into the net. Finally talk
talk to a human chat who gives
troubleshoots steps to follow.
I follow with difficulty, he
repeatedly asks are you there?

Got over the issue
three easy steps. It took
t ten minutes whereas I
had spent the whole day
starting and restarting
inserting and removing the SIM.

How Does The Garden Grow?


with thorns and thistles
grass and shrubs,
creepers and crates
rise high and flow deep
lie reckless in clusters
encircling and entwining,

my lovely roses look pale,
jasmine stay mangled,
lilies and poppies shy away,
lemon and mango appear withered,
coconut stands erect though,
neem and mango are bare.

Aiyo! I cry with pain
Gaze at the incorrigible
before me. Stricken with horror
I kneel before each one of them
apologize. fondle each of them with care.
I solemnly affirm by God
to restore Grace.

Om Shanthi!

Nature Remains


As I open the main door in the morning
I am greeted by chill air which makes freeze.
I walk down the path to gather the newspapers
which lie on the grass.

I return with a shiver down the adrenaline
sit in my patio to go through the news.
But really could not continue
as the wind is too cold.

My place is not in a region bound by wintry cold
but in the tropics where it is hot throughout,
I make good to the interiors. I then turn the tap
my fingers are bitten by the cold water that comes out.

I pull them out hurriedly. It is the regular phenomenon
during this part of the year,chill in the mornings
that turn hot towards the noon, Nature is steadfast.
It is we who treat her inhumanly.

One of A Biting


A game of choice
the insinuation
and indignation
keep the pot boiling.

A momentous decision
turns a disaster,The entire
town puts out a wagging tongue
which keeps baiting.

The target is the one
who took the decision,
had to back out for untold
reasons.

The man wallows in grief,
could not bear the spite
and contempt, wishes
to run away.

He is hurt. Remains dumb
for a time. Reaction
will invite more speculation,
he knows,

The talks die down.
He comes out of his silence,
Restrains from hitting back.
Normalcy returns.

The Words Strike


One of a random remark
unwittingly uttered
creates a trade war.
promoting a ban.

He, the leader, keeps on intruding,
as if he is a saviour
of Islam, into another
nation’s policies

He represents a small country
whose economy depends
on Palm oil exports
which brings huge revenue

The antagonized nation,
one of the biggest consumer
of the edible oil, outraged
stops its purchase.

The price falls, oil lies
undelivered in Indian ports,
The leader remains nonchalant
Says he will speak against wrong.

An unnecessary tension
prevails. The oil is rotting
The consumers seeks other sellers.
If only the leader minds his business.

The Turn


The chugging sound of train
used to delight me
when I was a girl.

The flying of airplane
over the sky brought joy,
while I was a teenager

The vehicular traffic
and the engine noise
pleased me all through.

A twist to the tale
as of now, I do not
feel excited,

rather the puffing train
irritates, so do the
echo of planes and cars,

my nerves screw up,
I shy away from them
I am unwilling to embark
into any mode of transport

An Interlude


A day of inactivity
lying still for a time
sitting simply for a while
eating as little as possible’,
drinking glasses of juice
one of a drab in the entire.

I resume my chores
but could not proceed.
Going back to reading
my eyes do not engage.
On to the dining table
I am unable to consume.

That being the status
I relax on my ease chair.
Idle away the whole day,
recollecting the past,
an exercise repeated
in a periodic schedule.