Thursday, August 6, 2015

I am constantly dreaming away of coasts, 

of vast endless oceans and relentless waves breaking on the shore, 

and their equally vast sandy beaches, 

Sea shells and crabs that comically trot away sideways from you.

Of under water sea creatures washed away despairingly to a curious eye,

Boats and their fishermen hauling fishes ashore, 

And of calm moments as the humid breeze flies past you leaving a salty after taste. 

Painted skies on a early morning or a late evening treating your eyes.

Jumping akimbo into the waves only to run away laughing shrilly,

hoping the water did not sting you so hard.

Warm currents in a cool night.

A place to relax without watchful eyes.

To come back forever. 

My pot of gold 2

Continuing on its accelerated journey my horse-gram plant has pushed its way outside the window. I am now forced to keep my window half secured. Continuing outwards it is now slowly finding its way to the roof. Brings to my mind - "Life will find a way!"

Wednesday, July 1, 2015

My pot of gold

I was recently  gifted a beautiful terracotta pot. I painted its exterior with water colours and planted horse gram. Its been a absolute delight seeing it grow. Hope you enjoy too.

Monday, February 2, 2015

Perhaps you are my answer,
Half of my soul the body hungers for,
Each wrought from similar pain;
Tempered by experiences alike.

The path we chose on our own,
Has intervened now,
To a destination we both walk like-minded.

Similar and yet so unlike,
Each a dreamer and a pragmatist,
Each a parent and a child.

Saturday, August 23, 2014


What's fragile,

Reflecting, with least prejudice.
What gets broken
More often with neglect?
Why throw away when you can recycle.

What? I was talking about mirror of course!

Monday, June 23, 2014

I'll be true to myself,
Hoping you will do the same.

Leaving nothing to fate,
I will fight for my destiny,
Hoping you will do the same.

In life's unpredictable game,
We are the pawns set against time.

Not letting others dictate my life,
I will set my sail adrift without fear,
Hoping our paths join the same.

Sunday, June 22, 2014

To make art

A lazy Sunday afternoon,

Cool wind and a view of the Champaka,

Its golden flowers wafting sensuously..

An urge to paint overwhelms,

Out comes the canvas or perhaps paper or a plain shirt.

Pencil and crayon buzzing hurriedly.

A race against time begins.

Corrections and eraser dust mounts,

Paint splashes in a riot of colors,

A complaining neck and a grumbling stomach ensues.

Finishing touches… And more corrections , a smudge cleverly hidden in another form,

A picture clicked and we are done.