summer rain


the fragrance of tulsi 

overpowers these senses of mine

i close my eyes

slow time

the warm summer rain

kisses my face

as i stare at the gray and crimson skies

in a dizzy daze

i close my eyes

i hear the thunder

i open my eyes

where you are i wonder

i am here

ready to play 

the hide and seek game

your special way

catch a glimpse

of your pensive suntanned face

nothing is revealed

in your gaze

the cold mango nectar with a dash of cardamon

warms my heart and quenches my summer thirst

with you by my side

i never feel accursed

never together by choice

best to accept it is time to leave

time to say good-bye and carry on with our lives

be brave never deceive

regret not

the choices of yesterday

until next time stay well my friend

may peace be yours each day

when i have flowers



the golden butter croissant 

warms up lazily in the old toaster

i look out of the window 

as i crush spices in my pestle and mortar

the black tea is ready

i get the blackberry spread

weekend  mornings 

always play with my head

i go down memory lane

remember the times when i sat on the warm bank of the river

staring at the worm moon 

my pretty flat feet in cold water

happy with friends

ice cream in hand

feeling like a rockstar

in some unknown band

the golden butter croissant 

and my black tea go cold

life is more than promising

when i have flowers and your hand to hold


Photo by Thirteen .J on Unsplash


inconstant light


A childhood reconfigured, a child who could never be,
with cardboard carts of stones and stamps,
bundled with a string, with wooden wired
contrivances hidden from the world,
and yet the others whispered in his ears.

They told him of a place where wild basalt seas
crashed down upon the shattered mirror beaches,
and sleepless carriages fled the stations of existence.

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the letter

Another beautiful poem and stunning video.

inconstant light

It snowed along the night, piling up
to just beneath the window sills,
mostly printouts, black and white,
so we shaped an outdoor dining set
of ink and paper, and took our morning coffee
on the balcony.

Orchilla dearest, you fill my thoughts
with wasted words
that I will not share with you.
And yet for lunch, as a special surprise,
I shall prepare spaghetti macramé al dente.

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a flower for you



a short note conveyed the news

she is no more

i loved her from the time i was a child

can’t understand why she had to go

her kind beautiful eyes

melted pain

gave so much away

no thought of gain

her laughter

like innocent playful rain

no deception

in a world insane

her gentle kisses

for her chosen son

her hugs

bolder than the summer sun

how do you know

angels look upon you from above

how do you remember someone

who lived to love


Note: Dedicated to Hema Aunty, R.I.P.

As long as there are flowers, you will live in many hearts.

Photo by Khanh Le from Pexels