While the world scrolls through shorts, I read YQ letters.

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The laptop keys go click, click, click.
The cooker on the stove goes hiss, hiss, hiss.
The work chats all go beep, beep, beep.
While the chai in the cup steams sip, sip, sip.

The doorbell rings ding-dong, ding-dong.
The neighbour’s gossip goes long, long, long
The bed in the noon calls sleep, sleep, sleep.
The pending work says don't skip, skip, skip.

The EOD task goes tick, tick, tick.
The deadlines chase quick, quick, quick.
The WFH drags, drags, drags,
Are you working from home or working for home?
The mind just nags, nags, nags.

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Ganpati is here,
like his ears, may we hold a heart big enough to listen to all.
Like his trunk, may our love be flexible, strong, and reaching far.
Like his laddu, may we carry sweetness in every word and deed.
Like his steps, may we move steady, yet dance with joy.
Like his presence, may we bring blessings and light wherever we go.

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Hey, you smiled. Good start!
Every second is precious.
Live it, share it generously.

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What is love supposed to sound like?
When words are sweet, they’re dismissed as sugar.
When words are blunt, they’re accused of cutting.
When silence arrives, it feels like neglect.
When attention lingers, it feels like chains.
Love, it seems, is always on trial.
Too much or too little,
never quite enough.
And if every form of love is wrong,
how does love ever stand a chance?

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the very breath we take in,
the rhythm in every heartbeat,
the melody within each pulse,
and the remedy that heals the soul.

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Undress me with your eyes,
one piece at a time.
Let me be the night that unveils her jewels
and makes the poet come alive.

Be the poet,
write me with your gaze,
recite me with your hands,
trace me with your tongue,
and bookmark me,
to be read again,
and again.

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Virar to Churchgate
The morning rush, a human tide,
You squeeze in sideways, dignity denied.
Elbows flying, bags held tight,
Someone's armpit gently says hi.

Then,victory! The window seat’s yours,
The rarest joy the rush hour pours.
Wind in your face, the city blurs,
For a moment, peace quietly stirs.

Life’s stories unfold in every seat,
One dreams of love, one chases a feat,
Another replays the boss’s roar,
Someone plans dinner, someone snores.

You step off whole, not missing a piece,
For today, my friend, you’ve travelled in peace.

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To the old friends, now the finest wine,
And the new ones, champagne that forever shines,
May our friendship age well and forever fizz with joy!

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The month when flags are proudly unfurled,
When India’s freedom shook the world.
A time when voices rose, uncurled,
Our rights reclaimed, our hopes unfurled.

It’s a month that honours every bond,
Of siblings tied with rakhi strong,
Of friendships pure and truly dear,
That bring us closer, year by year.

It welcomes Krishna’s birth with song,
And Ganesha’s homecoming, loud and long.
With drums and chants and hearts that sing,
August carries a sacred ring.

And as we gather, one and all,
For prayers, parades, or a festive call,
With love and pride in the atmosphere,
An august gathering draws us near.

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