I scratched my head and thought,
How does a beautiful mind look like?
Does it have eyes of empathy and kindness
Or two curious hands and brave feet
Or a smile lifting cheeks of hope? If so, the list of
Ingredients for the perfect mind will go on and on.
On goes the river of questions, don't you think?
Of how tasteless bravery would be without fear
Or hope would be without hopelessness?
Love, even the universe was created from insanity
And I wonder who is to blame for the death of curiosity
Or if man with an injured frontal lobe can be declared ugly.
Ugly and beautiful. I wonder if two words are
Enough to dive into depths of grey matter.
It's something you realise as you grow older
That a beautiful mind
Is the one which truly understands,
Beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder.-
•Simian crease•
Down the memory lane I walked and saw a little girl
With nose as flat as a pancake and almond eyes with a curl.
I used to play with her under the sun,
trace lines on our palms. I had many; she had one.
She took time to learn things. People called her fool.
Alas! They sent her to a different and special school.
One day, I bragged, "My mom said, her child is one in hundred."
And she replied, "Bu- but I'm one in eight hun- hundred."
Her neck was short and so she looked like a doll.
She remained four feet and only I grew tall.
She's a gymnast now and I'm a doctor in the town.
Oh, wait! Did I tell you that she has a syndrome of Down?-
Monsoon seems
running away
from me.
It's gathering,
then scattering
like fireflies
in the summer evening,
where no one notices
the wildflowers
in the depths of lake
this rainy noon,
my fishing pole
touches the coastline
and rests there,
savoring monsoon.-
My arms await you
Like the shore waits
For the ocean waves
That wait cuts
Through me
Like the sunrays
Cutting through
An overcast day
The day silently
Passes by
When the stars,
In between the pines,
Stop hiding.-
Aftermath
In the times of love
And longing
I am searching for you
As you told me
Before you lay
Down in Sahyadris
Never to wake up
I am searching for you
In every nook and brook
In every road mistook
In every passing day
In every venus' ray
If what you said
Was true,
Mamma,
Where are you?-
If you slip and fall down someday
May the road rise up to meet you.
The words you utter as they leave your mouth
May there be people to hear few.
Within the weaving echoes of winds,
May you run across firefly fields
And beautifully glide
Amid the billows
Of midnight dreamers.-
On the dining table
My father sits in the far right corner
While my mother on left.
My right-handed father cuts cooked meat
While talking about animal rights.
My left-handed mother preaches equality
While feeding dosa to her favourite child.
And my head swings from
Left to right
Left to right
figuring out
Who is wrong or right.-
Unquarantined rain grins this June.
Umbrella and mask are twins this June.
Nights won’t be binging days anymore.
Men will shave their chins this June.
Undusted school bags lay in the corner.
Within laptops classroom thins this June.
One sneeze will surely raise many brows.
Bathe in the rain is one of the sins this June.
Not like before but streets will chatter soon.
Gamblers will be in malls and inns this June.
Aren’t you relieved as lockdown ends, Lopa?
Nah…The real test in fact begins this June.-
maybe hope is nothing
but a father running alongside
his child
learning to ride a bicycle,
making sure that
child doesn't fall
and if he does,
patting his back
and
reminding his little one,
hold on.-