Quiet in the inside

It is so quiet in the inside In the stillness of the mid night hour I hear nothing but myself In the emptiness of time and drowsily I see faintly, A singular streak of Silver moonshine Play silently upon the Somber pleated curtains Aimlessly, incoherently, Around Dark shades of dark darkness. But there is no

Desire !

Why are we tortured by desire? Why have we made desire into a tortious thing ? There is a constant desire for power , desire for position , desire for recognition, fame, sexual desire, desire to have money, to have a car and so on…what do we mean by the word desire? And why is

Where are you now

Where are you now My friend Oblivious to all the noise Around your boisterous life Tucked quietly In your study Spying the Miniaturist In a spurious eastern court ? Where are you now My friend Withering in pain Holding onto nothing much While the young physio Plays merrily with your broken wrist With undue attention

My journey home

There seems a quiet calm Around the departure lounge As everyone is snugly settled In their own little spaces Waiting for the final goodbye Across frosted glass panels And large spaces of empty air All Contended with their final buy, of Chocolate dates, Strawberry perfumes, And blueberry malts Bought off the discount shelfs In a

The Circle of Life

For P and Q two little orange goldfishes, In a colorful Translucent bowl Life goes round and round In endless circles Of jovial delight Playing hide and seek Seek and hide, Around little shells Tirelessly Relentlessly Nibbling each other’s Gills In playful thrills Till day turns night And night day In timeless rotation They travel

Isn’t she lovely ?

Isn’t she lovely That lonely little rose Standing all by herself Swaying by the breeze Of emptiness Isn’t she pretty That singular little rose Playing all by herself Dancing to the music Of completeness Isn’t she wild That tiny little red rose Blooming all by herself Bathing in the sunshine Of white happiness Isn’t she

Cradle her again !

It’s hazy outsideAs the glass skyscrapers yawn in languid aweAnd the first streaks of broken sunshinePeeps through the distant dunesI see nothing beyondThe loneliness ahead in our lives…Running sad rivulets,Along my fading memories.But then I stare,At this adorable young lady,Sitting across my roadside table,Cross legged and fancy freeIn the spring of her youthDemurely,Sipping coffee,In slow