Friday, October 20, 2017

Memories Overlapping

memories overlapping
other memories
likewise overlapping others
until they diffuse
and fade away
into nothingness

Bhashwati wrote:

What an unbelievable composition with what a wide range of elements in the same frame.
Vaise i dont get it why people chase that elusive being called god when there is the miracle called light that one cannot admire and worship and appreciate enough.
And how you manage to play with it is no less miraculous.

Wednesday, October 18, 2017

Life, the Alluring Prison

My offering, with a thousand salutes, to all my fellow prisoners.

Ek haseen haseena zindagi
khamosh tammana
berahm aasmaan ke niche
bhitar baahar

A beauty, life beautiful
silent yearning
under the merciless sky
within without

Thursday, October 12, 2017


as in unaware
of good and bad
happiness or otherwise

wise beyond wisdom

Sunday, October 01, 2017

Wednesday, September 27, 2017


Small leaves
blown by a cold wind
scutter over stone.

Linen cool under my hand,
and the door ajar
to ease his passing.

This is his new address,
where forever
he will be unreachable.

Traveller, if you pass this place,
be gentle,
he is resting here.

Thursday, September 21, 2017

Conversation 2: Past Present

Bhashwati wrote:

Actually not one but several conversations are happening here.

The diminutive adult who may have been a helper or attendant at an earlier point and could be conversing with his memories of those "better" days which actually may have been hard days of toil for him but considering the ravages of time on the building and his own life, the present must seem far more unbearable.

And then theres the gnarled knotted tree bent but not broken and still visited by spring. conversing with itself and with the walls that will never be revisited by old glory.

And the doors windows pillars passages conversing together in a perennial assembly of mourning.

And the light outside and the dark shadows within, they may be conversing too.

To say nothing of the embedded traces of lives that have lived loved lost within these premises. 
Would they not be conversing with each other too?

Bahut khoob hai.

i wonder where it was hidden all these years.

Tuesday, September 19, 2017

Up the Downstairs

when I went up and down the stairs
I stopped midway
and looked into the letterbox
where I found only cobwebs

and I wondered why
my heart always sank

and then I thought that somewhere
there was another letterbox
with someone looking into it
and not finding my letter
and feeling as disappointed
as I did
and saddened
as I was


As I grew up 
I learned to give 
before I took 
except unhappiness 
which were mine 
and mine alone 
not to be shared

but that could not be
cannot be

(written in 1956)

Sunday, September 17, 2017

Conversation: Future Past

between the eroded wisdom of the past
and an uncertain future

Bhashwati wrote:

This time round what has struck me most is the texture, actually the many textures that are part of the image. The grainy, the lined, the soft, the hard, the solid and the shadowy.
It caught me by surprise because i have always only noticed the boy and his communion with the stony wall. There is so much more that is kneaded into the composition.

Friday, September 15, 2017


A baby, fallen from the nest, frightened of everything; even gentle, fond protection, trembling so much that friendly caring became cruel. Our efforts to feed nuts, and anything other than that, all were suspect. Touching it, not touching it, all failed to reassure it that we wanted to be friendly and play with it. Nothing worked until we let it escape, even as we feared that it would become instant prey.

Bhashwati wrote:

How scared it looks of the unfamiliar protection that is being proffered.

Instantly brings to my terribly troubled mind's eye the millions of refugee infants and children who find themselves at the receiving end of conflicts they have no conception or comprehension of and ejected and evicted from the familiar environs of their short life they have only fear and mistrust of the entire human world.