Writing. It makes me creatively active. Helps me search for new words and imagery. It gives me a sense of dynamism.

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Fleeting Moments

Ah, fleeting hours, how swiftly do ye fly
More swift than shuttle thrown by weaver’s hand
They steal the joys that once delighted eye
Yet leave a glow like rainbows on the land.

The mirror shows the lines that time has made
Its silent script upon my outward frame
Yet inward strength grows richer, undismayed
The soul within still burns with steady flame.

Through fingers slip the sands of passing years
Yet courage steadies all my heart’s desire
The questing mind still hungers, never fears
To seek new truths and set the spirit higher.

Though time may mark the flesh with silent toll
It cannot dim the radiance of my soul.

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Old yet precious
Beads of life's necklace.

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Whisper of Time

Every time I return to my village,
And walk past the old school gates,
Memories rise like waves in the wind,
Pressing against the shores of my heart.
I see myself, a student again,
In one of those sunlit rooms,
My eyes fixed on the blackboard,
My ears filled with lessons and dreams.
The chalk still dusts the wooden desks,
The walls still echo with soft voices,
And I hear the whisper of time—
It has stopped there, for eternity.
I remember the faces of my teachers,
Firm, yet kind,
Their words shaping the clay of my mind,
Their patience watering my growing spirit.
Most of them have left this world now,
Yet their presence lingers—
In every alphabet I write,
In every truth I seek,
In every path I dare to walk.
They are not gone,
For their blessings breathe in my thoughts,
Their light shines in my being,
Guiding me still,
Like lamps along the road of life.
To them I bow my head—
With gratitude deeper than words,
With love that time cannot erase,
For they made me who I am,
And who I strive to be.

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लबों से कह न पाये वो बातें,
जो दिल में चुपके से जलती रहीं,
तेरी आँखों की रौशनी बनकर
मेरी रगों में बहती रहीं।

तेरे सामने जब भी आयि
शब्द कहीं खो जाते थे,
सिर्फ़ धड़कनों के तराने
तेरे क़दमों तक जाते थे।

तेरे बिना जो साँसें चलीं,
वो भी अधूरी लगती हैं,
तेरी ख़ामोशी की हर परछाई
मेरी धड़कनों से जुड़ती हैं।

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Amidst the rain, the laughter, and fun,
August slipped away quietly,
leaving behind footprints of joy and longing
on the wet pages of my memory.

It was a month of meetings and partings,
hellos wrapped in warmth,
goodbyes heavy with silence.
Not always smooth, not always kind,
yet full of lessons,
full of little victories,
full of life’s busy hum.

August, you were not perfect—
but you were alive,
restless, radiant, unforgettable.
I close your chapter with gratitude,
and turn the page—
yet you remain,
a tender bookmark in my story.

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ହେ ବିଘ୍ନେଶ୍ୱର
ଶୁଭ ଜନ୍ମଦିନେ ଘେନ
ପ୍ରଣତି ଆମର
ହଟିଯାଉ ଜଗତରୁ
ଅଜ୍ଞାନ ତିମିର
ମଙ୍ଗଳମୟ କର
ମଙ୍ଗଳ ବିଧାନ
ଭରିଦିଅ ଅନ୍ତରେ
ତବ ଦିବ୍ୟଜ୍ଞାନ।

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ଜୀଇଁ ଥିବା ମଣିଷ କି ସତେ ଜାଣେ 'ଜୀବନ'ଟି କିସ
ଥଳହୀନ, କୂଳହୀନ ସେ ଯେ ଏକ ଅସରନ୍ତି ସ୍ରୋତ
ନିୟତ ସଂଗ୍ରାମ ମଧ୍ୟେ କେଉଁଠି ତା ସଜ୍ଞା ହଜି ଯାଏ
ଜୀବନ ଏପରି ଯାହା ପ୍ରତି କ୍ଷଣେ ଝେଲିବାକୁ ହୁଏ।

ଆଜି ଯେ ରାଜେନ୍ଦ୍ରାସନେ କାଲି ସେ ଫକୀର
ଆଜିର ନିରନ୍ନ ବ୍ୟକ୍ତି କାଲିକୁ ଅମୀର
ସୀମାବଦ୍ଧ ମନ ଆମ କିପରି ବୁଝିବ
କେତେ ବଡ଼ ଏ ଜୀବନ କିବା ତା ବିଭାବ।

ଜୀବନ ଜଟିଳ ତତ୍ତ୍ଵ ନାହିଁ ପରିଭାଷା
ସବୁ ହଳାହଳ ମଧ୍ୟେ ଏକ ବିନ୍ଦୁ ଅମୃତର ଆଶା
କୀଟ ଠୁ ଆରମ୍ଭ କରି ସୃଷ୍ଟିର ଜଠରେ
ଜୀବନ ନେଉଛି ଜନ୍ମ ପ୍ରତି ମୁହୂର୍ତ୍ତରେ।

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The sky was pale with morning hue,
I dreamed of your gentle face,
A silence grew where roses bloom
And filled my heart with grace.

Your laughter lingers like the rain,
That soothes the restless sea,
It washes over all my agonies
And sets my spirit free.

Though time may turn the world to stone,
And shadows dim the skies,
I’ll walk the path that leads me there
To the light in your eyes.

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After They Left

The house is too quiet after they left
Chairs remember their voices,
walls keep the rhythm of laughter,
but my arms are empty.

We watched movies
Played cards, recited poetry
Told stories, did shopping
Had lots of fun
the kind of little moments
that stitch families close.

We visited places
The villages we belonged to once
now a dream, a nostalgia
In silence, we shared the pang
Of an unfulfilled yearning
and gathered some shrads of memory
Captured in lenses.

I miss them—
the way one misses
their own heartbeat
when it wanders away

The ache cuts through me
Remembering my daughter's
Tear-filled eyes,
The wistful look of my son-in-law
When we waved at eachother
this sweet emptiness,
this waiting for the next time
to begin again.

Come again soon,
I’ll keep the warmth folded,
ready to open
the moment you arrive.

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