a date with an elephant



time to take elephants for a walk

down by the river

pick a cozy green spot

and bring out the silver

for elephants love to dine

in great style

why do we thank the earth

only once in a while?

so much beauty

so much pain

we take so much

when there’s so little to gain

time to gaze

into my elephant’s eyes

play on the grass

sleep under the skies

one life to live

one earth to adore

a date with an elephant

i ask no more


ps: happy earth day






















ice wine on the moon



and one day soon

i will go to the moon

take a quick break

one  wednesday noon

between meetings

writing two-page briefing notes

i will pay with bitcoin

for my ride and root beer floats

in a faraway place

where the standard time is gmt+10

a stranger lives (alone?)

my angst he seems to understand

together we may go to the moon

with ripped jeans and purple bandanas

have a picnic lunch

with ice wine and mini bananas

talk about ways to get around

with compass cards

from 1100 chestnut st

watch the summer stars

and then to darling harbour

we will fly away

have cake and coffee at soul origin

one stormy day

reflect on maya and the sorrow of androids

laugh about collecting dreams and getting through life

i will get the blueberry jam and brie

you get the sparkling champagne and ceramic knife

together for the first time

we will have dinner

until dawn talking about spirals paired

there’s no saint and sinner

will you reach out

never…or soon?

a break with me perhaps

one wednesday noon?

















i will make a batch of apple cinnamon shortbread

the kind that will melt in my mouth

without resistance

as the oven warms up

i will watch my neighbors walk their dogs on leash

couples with jackets of the same color walking together

accompanied by the music of their inner resistance

i will place the shortbread

on my favorite blue square cookie plate

with dark brown borders

beside my huge maroon tea cup


they make a lovely pair


good together

the shortbread melts in my mouth

without resistance i

give myself to the moment

the cinnamon warms my heart


Photo credit: Suju, Creative Commons, Pixabay




it will be sunday soon

time to sit under the silver moon

think about the time

when daddy taught me a rhyme

when mummy tied my pony tail

and i waited for letters in the mail

it will be sunday soon

i will enjoy the hot afternoon

think about the times

when i choose to have a life of dignity and few dimes

watch sparrows chase each other across my yard

remember there is much beauty even in a life scarred

it will be sunday soon

can’t wait to dream under the silver moon



Picture credit: Pixabay






i turn my head

a little to the side

the flash goes on

i don’t hide

i like my silhoutte

lines and dark ink

i search for colours

in the black ink

for life

is more than black and white

the debate goes on

if plato got chora right

for now

lines and dark ink


that make us think

ask questions

about humanity

go beyond tolerance

can you see the beauty in diversity?








to be

or not to be forlorn

has been the question

all along

when things go wrong

life stands still

one can always

bring out the strong will


to make the choice

not to be forlorn

to celebrate life

bravely move on

replace fear with love

be willing to unlearn

have a purposeful journey

like the Arctic tern







Growing up in a small village in the Southern Indian state of Kerala, I had many staycations as a child and enjoyed them. The days involved going from my village to Palakkad town with my family, eating at a Chinese restaurant (Chop Suey was our favourite order), watching a movie in the theatre (with pop corn), buying treats from a local bakery and heading back home before sunset.

This festive season, I had a staycation. I stayed home (in Vancouver) with my elderly mother. To celebrate Christmas and the new year, we went out for lunch at a Chinese restaurant (we ordered Chop Suey), watched a movie in the theatre (with popcorn :-), bought treats and came back home. In the midst of watching Pitch Perfect 3, my mother shared she really liked Rebel Wilson. So did I!

The gift of time, is the best gift to give, the best gift to receive.