old verses selection...retrieved from the archives of caferati...

haiku selection

I

sometimes the most
difficult thing in life
is to just - be


II

gracefully soaking poison
from life's sludge
blue lotus


III

'midst death, work
learning, giving, living
i still haiku

IV

Silver grey clouds
Pregnant with water droplets
give birth to rain

V

Read my Smile
let my Eyes talk
we will walk Miles



ps - # 2 has been written for a dear friend who is physically challenged and will probably never " hear" my words...

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part of an exercise which involved the use of specific words...



monday woke me, snuggled in the arms of Jupiter
smiling goofily, revelling in my Lord and Master

velevety baritone husked nonsensical nothings,
woozy watchmacallits, outrageous somethings

settling over me, like a rainbow quilt
tinkling gold coins woven in to her fibre-fill

post the customary fifty one passionate kisses
(not including the near misses)

extricated himself from my entwined body,
the way Casanova would leave his lady

deftly stepping around scattered pet orchids
lying in colourful abandon that forbids

yet a feeling of fullness I had caught
i might have just achieved Eternity, I thought

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Its been raining here and these lines flowed in the midst of assignments and cost functions and production functions……


Raindrops that surprise
Thunder, lightning that jolt
me out of complacency
and assumption that
the weather will get
Colder and drier
I forgot but
every single time
every single year
an unexpected shower or two
blesses me
before summer whispers
“ au revoir”
and winter nudges her way in
gently through a chink
in my doorway……

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such a market exists..close to the qutub minar in delhi, off the mehrauli gurgaon highway....


wholesale flower market

a lane at a crazy tangent
to a smoky, dusty highway
whizzing past a coloured blur
i stopped. peered.
down the length
of a muddy, slushy lane…
stones peeped out
to trip my high heeled vanity….
little tarpaulin covered shops
with blue plastic sheets
overflowed with flowers
flowers and more flowers….
little miniature rainbows
lay scattered around my feet
in fluorescent plastic tubs
begging to be lifted up…
velvety soft petals seeking
the caress of my fingertips and cheeks….
twinkling crystal dew droplets
tilting insanely over
their sheer drop to the ground …
or yearning to fall
onto my bare skin…
perfumes that jostled madly
for my nasal approval…
only to be swept away
by greedy, moneyed hands
for picture perfect synthesis
in lavish, empty homes…
by menials of the
hoity toity flower retailer
in an overpriced shopping conclave….
dumped carelessly
on a black bicycle backseat
tied down with black rubber tube….
melting in to the muck of the highway….
as the lane stripped
of its colour and perfume
grew desolate and empty
in its barren bareness…..


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all of this is old stuff from my early writing attempts...and it shows i guess !!