Archives for the month of: June, 2013

I am sitting with my day.
Orange crane moves masses
Outside my window.
Bangalore sky hanging over
Cemented roots.
My heart is unsure.
Tepid coffee and burning thoughts
Of death
Of life.
What will i do next?

The children are asleep.
My other love has flown away.
For now i sit rudderless.
The cut, ripe, orange papaya
Reminds me of what could be.
Shakti eludes me.
She is waiting for my
undivided presence.
She will bloom from my navel
When i am ready.


I love our shared memories of a cement tank with a wad of cloth holding the water in. A badam tree’s bounty of green fruit splattering blood like stains as they fall from its high grasp. Grandparents spinning stories that have helped us weave our todays. A love for those days of rooftop to rooftop jumps and food cooked with the energy of the universe coursing thru an old body. Cracking walls in a musty room with thoughts hanging like cobwebs, whispering and beckoning young souls into a time warp.


Dropped and broke that jar of coffee, right after helping myself to what was needed for this morning’s cup. Found myself standing with naked feet, upon an island of shattered glass. It’s a good thing I have long hands. It’s a bit of a stretch to get to that broom inside that cupboard without shifting my legs. But I have it now. I sweep around my feet, claiming slowly all that floor, from shards of glass. When I’m done, there’s nothing to show, for what’s happened here. There’s no story, unless you listen to the lonesome lid, of the shattered jar.

While I was stepping softly, upon still earth, cushioned in conscious breath, amidst tall trees inside a forest, hushed, save for the rustling of leaves, upon still branches, three questions living on their own, without the need for answers, wafted with the breeze.

What’s this breath?

From where does it begin?

What’s this stillness, upon which it’s felt?

Perhaps there are answers seeking those questions, elusive themselves, since, as yet unspoken.

Am I a Matchmaker, to find, and to marry such answers, to such serious questions?

Such places are full of stories, of another time. Only a mirror is a perfect keeper of secrets, revealing nothing of what it has seen, before this one instant.


Walking on the same road, we find different things. When I’m looking for something, it’s almost the only thing I find. When I’m looking for nothing, I have become the road with all its treasures!

I’ve found a thousand beautiful places where I could sit and endlessly gaze. And it’s all because of my utter restlessness!


“I’m flowing, in ever widening conquest, of these constraining shores. No longer the narrow trickle, hemmed in by unyielding rocks, I’ve grown irresistible”.