Wednesday, September 12, 2018

Bangalore Rains

It is July 2018, middle of rainy season which is Samyukta's favourite time of the year. She stands in her kitchen, bare foot, on the warm and feathery rug feeling its softness as she gently rubs her feet on it time and again. She is among people who enjoy the sound of rain and smell of earth sitting inside the cozy confines of her home and not the "get-wet-in-the-rain-with-arms-wide-open" type. She looks at her 1.5 year old daughter playing in the living room, narrating a dramatic story aloud to an invisible audience in an unknown language where she is the warrior princess of her kingdom and also the dragon, the fairy, the horse, the tree, the robot, the airplane..Must be very tiring to play all the characters in a fairytale-cum-sci-fi movie by oneself, Samyukta thinks and smiles. She knows that her daughter would sleep peacefully with her eyes half shut and perhaps her mouth half open, thin line of saliva trickling down which she finds inelegant and cute at the same time. This will give her and Abhay some quality time with each other which otherwise is a rare phenomenon amidst the hustle bustle of "9 to 6" job for a living and "24-7 job" of parenting.

Outside, the rain pelting on window panes and inside Kishore Kumar in stereo, are in perfect harmony to recreate "Rim jhim gire sawan" all over again. The house is immersed in the smell of brewing ginger tea and Pakodas sizzling in a pool of hot oil, Abhay's moodsetters during this time. There is something very beautiful about rains in Bangalore. The air gets cold enough for one to want to tuck his feet under a duvet but not enough to pierce the skin to cause discomfort. Rather just enough to binge watch a series on Netflix or sit by the window and stare at the ripples the rain drops make in a puddle or challenge your eyes to spot KRPuram bridge hidden behind layers of mist, dust and drizzle. During college, Samyukta and Abhay had spent a lot of fun times doing these silly things and dreaming about their future over several ginger teas and Pakodas -  a comfortable house, pretty kids, furniture, organic farming, overseas travel, time travel, going to space, one night stand with favorite movie star, to name a few. Among all the achievable desires, Samyukta had wanted a house with fancy and broad window sills where both of them would sit facing each other with rain in the backdrop.

There is a knock on the door and Samyukta knows it is him. Abhay had called her sometime back to tell he would be home early to dodge the "after-rains" traffic. With child-like excitement and a tinge of seduction in her voice, she tells Abhay, "kiddo wont be awake before 2 hours, ginger tea and garm-a-garam pakodas waiting and guess who else?"  Platonically Abhay replies, "Sounds fun babe, but I have a client call now, some big escalation." Samyukta hiding her disappointment tells him it will all be OK. She keeps the cup of hot ginger tea and Pakodas on the study table for Abhay and as she is walking out of the room, Abhay calls her out, "and darling, please shut the door when you leave". She nods and smiles at him and says, "let me know if you need anything else."

Saturday, September 1, 2018


The heart is in deluge
and I seek refuge
in asylum of your arms
no reminders no alarms
except to love and cherish
the moments before
they perish

Done with laying flowers on the grave 
of a broken dream
My eyes see the shine of
another story gleam
through the key hole of
the future
that we together nurture

cultivating barren lands
carrying sunshine in hands
turning swamps into green fields
and marveling at their yields

you and I walking this kingdom
we created side by side
riding the rough seas
tide by tide

But this is all in my head
which may or may not be
now, the present is definite,
that disillusions me
as the heart is in deluge
and I seek refuge

Thursday, July 14, 2011

Its a circle!

Ria and Samyukta went on to become good friends as they completed 3 months in that new city where they had come in pursuit of thier ambitions. Ria was an MBBS and an aspiring gynaecologist. After her daughter turned 2, Ria had convinced her husband that it was about time, she substantiated her 4 years of hard work that she put in studying in the medical college where she also met Rohit, her husband and fell in love. Samyukta had just finished her MBA and had got into a leading market research firm of the country. She was, unlike her archaic name, a multifaceted personality who could manage to be in the good books of her professors, at the same time could get stoned and befuddled in those unhinged rave parties, just a day before her final submissions. Nonetheless, she had a flair to teach, of which she came to be aware of since the time she had taught her younger siblings. She must have been 13 then. Hence, she was also eyeing the colleges that would call her as a visiting faculty alonwith her current job. It seemed a good idea to her to juggle between her ambition and her passion.

It was a Sunday evening when Ria and Samyukta chatted for a while and started watching a movie together in Ria's room. Ria's husband called her up while the movie was still playing on the laptop. She went out of the room seeking solitude leaving Samyukta alone in the room watching the movie.

Next day when Samyukta came back from office she found her room, entirely raked up. Her bags, overturned, her belongings strewn all over the place. She thought, someone had tried to rob her. She ran downstairs to talk to the owner and ask what had happened. She found the owner talking to a Sheriff. He told Samyukta that she had been searched because Ria had lodged a police complaint of the theft of her Rs. 30,000/- that allegedly went missing from her almirah since yesterday. Ria had told the owner and sheriff that Samyukta was in the room yesterday evening, alone watching the movie and she was pretty sure she had stolen her money. Samyukta stood there flabbergasted like a pole whlie the sheriff and the owner harassed her with a volley of curses and profanities. Due to the lack of adequate evidence the police complaint against Samyukta was dislodged but she was evicted from the house where they both stayed. As she reached the gate, Samyukta, bearing a scar in her conscience, perhaps, forever, had looked up to the balcony where Ria stood unimpassioned, and told her,"its a circle".

After 20 years Ria's daughter grew up to study journalism. She got into the top most College in the field to Ria's pride. One odd day, Ria got a call from her daughter's college, that her daughter was caught cheating blatantly during the exams and had possessed a couple of micro xeroxed course material. The college committee had decided to rusticate her as a consequence of which, she will have to repeat the year. The final authority to decide her daughter's fate lied with the dean. Ria had thought and practiced her conversation with the dean very discreetly while driving to the college and she believed that she will be able to talk the dean out of the whole matter. Sheepishly, she took a corner to sit in the waiting lounge and nervously, she tapped her fingers on whatever they touched. Finally she was called. Standing outside the Dean's office, Ria stood flabbergasted, exactly like her friend had stood 20 years back, as the name plate on the door said - Samyukta Rathore, Dean, Mass Communication. Its a circle afterall.

Thursday, January 13, 2011

The Crimson Scarf

When she turned eighteen,
she was lovely with eyes, emrald green,
Struck by silly youthful desires,
A boy set her heart on fire,
With flushed face and excited voice,
she had told her mom about her choice,
and as it was her first prom night,
her mom knit her a magnificient crimson
scarf with so much love and delight,

After 15 years the boy is her old man and the father
of her cute and chirpy daughter,
And often she had felt titillated by the muse,
when her little angel will be in her shoes,
be besotted by her "knight in shining armour",
like any other girl treasuring this dream to die for,
then she would pass her on the crimson scarf,
given by her mother in celebration for being in love,
One fine day, with curiosity gleaming in her eyes,
she asked her daughter about her likes and pass bys,
After an extended, frisky but bolstered prodding,
Finally, she got her little daughter speaking, 
"Mom, her name is Susan who makes me feel weak at knees",

With a barren mind and overweight heart, her world came to a freeze ,
She could manage her clumsy hand on her angel's shoulder,
drinking in the fact, her little angel was peculiar,
that no knight in shining armor was coming for her, ever.

Buried deep inside for more than two decades now,
the crimson scarf in her closet could never make its way out...

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

The ephemeral moments..

I am tucked very comfortably in my blanket,
but there is a chill that slithers inside like the breeze outside,
Since I walked out of the office today,
I am a retired bloke.

The memories of last 25 years flash through my mind.
It feels like watching a slide show of photographs in an old dilapidated theatre.

My untiring endurance and sartorial elegance,
to the the lines on face and the grey ruffled hair,
The whispers in the night while making love,
to the struggle to howl for a glass of water ,  
Getting high on weed at Robin's,
to the daily morning shots of Insulin,
The shrieks of the kids playing all around,
to the awareness of the lull  that surrounds,
The confusion, whether to celebrate or lament
the fleeting time renders me weak.
Good night.

Saturday, December 18, 2010

How it is...

The gray headed mind didnt let the heart be young,
So many beautiful songs that could never be sung,

How it is to dance in the first summer rain,
or fall ill to hear mom's soft grumblings again and again,

How it is to trust someone blindly,
or be deceived by the same person slyly,

How it is to cry when one is ecstatic,
or shed a few tears on something really tragic,

How it is to love someone wihout any conditions,
or silently tolerate all its afflictions,

How it is to revolt when something is not right,
or totally be ignorant like a child,

A zillion more feelings, I wanted to know,
the desire might never end though,

The gray headed mind didnt let the heart be young,
So many beautiful songs that could never be sung,

Wednesday, December 8, 2010

The Confrontation

(Inspiration drawn while reading The Holy Bible)

There is "someone" staring at me from the mirror,
"Someone" who scares me if I try to get nearer,
Follows me when I am on the go or in deep slumber,
With passing time, "her" whispers in my ears are 
getting clearer and clearer..

She bears my face, my eyes, my nose, my voice,
But with a pair of moist eyes and so much poise.

Perhaps that is what makes her so naggingly different.
As I lay on my bed  in introspection to find this reason,
She spoke, " Nothing will come out of a mind thats ignorant."
"I was a part of you, once upon a time, who was torn apart
from you by a demon."

"And ever since I departed did you mourn my absence even once?"
"Do you still miss my being when there is a fork on the way that comes?"
"I seek an answer to all these questions as I am the one who has to 
face the court",
"What about you, you will dissolve with the ashes leaving me without 
any support."

I grope for words to tell how badly I have missed her at the time,
When I had to manipulate my words where the lines didn't rhyme,
And now I exactly get the difference between the two of us..
She worries about the judgement that awaits her in the skies,
Whereas surviving every moment down here, is the distress in my eyes.

Sunday, September 19, 2010

A piece of my world through my eyes...


                      Those who matter....












Saturday, September 11, 2010

Change....takes a while!!!

In a blanket of pretense, have been wrapped forever I,
you say now you want to see through or else you will pry?
For the soul who has always learnt to beguile,
Give it a while...

A fire was put off ages ago for it would incinerate a dream,

You rate me lower than him 'coz I don't have eyes that beam?
For the extinguished desire who has always lived in exile,
Give it a while...

There is a petite heart who has been hungry for love forever,

You want it to bear the pangs of loneliness without a shudder?
For the heart who was always meant to be fragile,
Give it a while....

I have always been walking in a herd obeying the shepherd,

You preach me now to walk on the path, undiscovered?
For the person I am who has always been docile,
Give me a while...

Sunday, August 22, 2010

My Perseverance...

While I paint the canvas of sky with my fingers,
shifting and bending the silver clouds here and there,
O dark clouds on conquest, at the realm u stay,
let me complete my portrait, a little time is for what I pray,

Even if my plea comes back to me without consideration,
no more will I mourn over my incomplete washed away creation,
A pinch of your hue I will preserve, to highlight my portrait,
and start afresh on the clean canvas, after the devastating spate,

Then I will recline on my terrace to admire what I have made,
as the dark clouds grumble at a distance and away they will fade,
and into the spring breeze I will dissolve my whispers,
to propogate my message that I just had the Last Laugh...

Monday, August 9, 2010

"I am..."

I am that fallen drop of blood
on the battle ground that nobody saw.
Glistening in the cold moonlit night,
silently engulfed by the earth so raw.

I am a faint shadow in the woods,
in a stormy evening that everybody saw.
Dismissed by them as an aberation,
leaving me for the wilderness to gnaw.

I am that juvenile wave in the ocean,
emanating from the silver horizon.
Aging every second en route to the shore,
to disintegrate on a rock when its my turn,

I am a shooting star across the crimson sky,
at the dawn that can make wishes come true.
I am now a meager speck of sand on a leaf,
smudged and lost in the morning dew.

I am that velvety grass beneath your feet,
in a summer afternoon that comforts you.
Indented in shapes as you walk through,
but, I am still a weed in the wolrd's view.

Wednesday, July 21, 2010

"ANGER" , the beast

There is a criminal on the lose,
who was to be hanged by the noose,
In the graveyard of the deceased,
Witnessed by those who were
afflicted by the beast,

The judgement was passed in
the court of prudence,
The prosecutor named agony fought
with all her valiance,
There was a symphony of applauds and an
implicit assurance within,
that no more will the adversity persist that
they were in,

But so undaunted was the monster who
was difficult to detain,
He broke free the prison of forbearance
and flee through the window of revenge,

It’s a dark night obstructed by the lightning
now and then,
Amidst the thick mist I see a huge shadow again,
Blood shot eyes and lethal claws he bears,
The beast is out to slaughter all its assailants,

Beware!! those who conspired to execute him,
For he has returned to retribute for the
disgrace and confinement, he was in,
He laughs at the face of prudence and agony now,
says "Did you forget, I am indestructible?"
a truth that is grim....

Tuesday, June 29, 2010

It doesnt matter now!!

It doesnt matter now!!

if the remnants of our deceased dreams
still lie under your pillow...
if those compassionate eyes looking at me
are profound or shallow..

It doesnt matter now!!

if the rustle of the satin sheet still makes
you grope for my body by your side..
if our names that we wrote on the rock
have faded or still shining bright..

It doesnt matter now!!

If the sickled moon still hurts you and
wets the corner of your eyes...
if the echo of our chuckles together
are weakening or in reprise...

It doesnt matter now!!

If your senses are still kindled after identifying
my faint fragrance when it rains...
if the canvas we were trying to paint
is blank or full of ugly stains....

It doesnt matter now!!

Sunday, June 20, 2010

Just another day....

Sleep walkin' every morning
I go to a place unfamiliar,
Life runs on a concrete stretch
of some 5 Kilometer,
A traffic light halfway that
robs away some more time,
Changing color to yellow green
and red resembling life,
I see familiar and strange faces
pulling over,
Some eloquent and
some obscure behind a cover,

That’s a handsome man
with a smirk on his face,
Guess he has moved ahead
a position in the race,
And here is a beggar
begging for some petty alms,
With a penny, he looks happy,
without any qualms,

I see a beautiful girl behind,
lost in her own world,
Wish the shining and fragile
bubble she is in never burst,
Right ahead is an old man
on a bicycle who looks jaded,
His wrinkles articulate the
eventuality of life that is dreaded

I wonder why that
bus driver looks so cold,
Perhaps he dropped his
spirits in one of the potholes,
The face at my left looks known,
of a successful manager,
who cannot manage his
forehead lines showing out of anger,
There is a lady standing
whose face I cant discern,
the lady is inside me
who has chosen to be stern,
Her soul is burnt by
harvesting her dreams in the sun,
May be this is the reason
of her being so numb,

And here I head towards
the same unfamiliar place,
on the 5 Km road where
 life runs at a fleeting pace...

Wednesday, June 16, 2010


Last night I dreamt of angels,
Like those in grandma’s fables,
They came gliding through my window,
Beautiful little angels without a shadow,
Picked me up like I was a child,
Seeing me bewildered, they smiled,
"Speak nothing o infant, just surrender,
As the dream you are in is tender”
Said one of them looking me in the eye,
Hypnotised, I bid everything goodbye.
And the next moment I was in a city,
A city of no hopes and no surmise,
Where the residents were neither fools nor wise,
The hearts and minds free in flight,
Unlike the string in the end of a kite,
The clouds beneath and the stars, I plucked
Like a heedless child without a fright,
The winds that ruffled my hair,
Tickled like I was free of all despair,
Were the people walking past me Gods!!
Coz I felt my soul was rendered bare,
And all my guilt and sins were shared.
When their shoulders brushed against mine,
I experienced a delight that was divine,
A city of all the answers that was,
Tranquilizing my insides, ending the draught,
Beautiful little angels appeared,it was time to go,
“Speak nothing o infant, just surrender,
As the dream you are in is tender”
Said one of them looking me in the eye,
Hypnotised, I bid everything goodbye.
And the next moment I was on my bed,
In a city that was concrete and like a closet,
Sitting up on my bed I wondered,
Was it heaven? and the thought lingered..

Tuesday, June 8, 2010

Standing between the same patch of land and sky

Standing between the same patch of land and sky,
With the familiar salty ocean in my eyes,
Paralyzed conscience and a crippled heart mourn,
Between dreams and realities, I am torn,
I had promised myself not to repeat the mistake,
To never lend my heart again, whatever else you may take,
But, I am standing between the same patch of land and sky,
With the familiar salty ocean in my eyes….

There was that day and here is this day,
They both are similar in the same way,
Loneliness seems to be my best friend now,
And I find my original place anyhow,
That’s why; I am standing between the same patch of land and sky,
With the familiar salty ocean in my eyes….

I had promised myself to enjoy the left moments,
But every passing second carries the essence,
Of the past that could have been present,
But now there is nothing but debris of lament,
And here, I am standing between the same patch of land and sky,
With the familiar salty ocean in my eyes….

Everyday, I see new relations being born and trashed,
The world spinning around and people moving fast,
Never understood the force and the motive behind my actions,
Call it a futile hope or a never ending infatuation,
So you see, I am standing between the same patch of land and sky,
With the familiar salty ocean in my eyes….

Friday, May 28, 2010

A memory revived!!

The pristine raindrops, pelting on my window,
tell a story of an unuttered sorrow,
languishing in the dungeon of memories for long,
like a magnificient palace in ruins and forlorn..

Being clasped by the tenacious grip of agony,
came to life the night, you gave up on me,
through the shadows of insecurity twas difficult to see,
I was swallowed by the infinite void of envy..

It was a moment when you were united and I, fragmented,
my strength to pull my self together was debilitated,
Pristine rain drops!! that night was cloudy,
I was all alone in the street which was crowdy..

That night when you started pouring, each & everyone
of you felt like piercing bullets in my heart,
the wilted wound marks are still there & the sweet pain never departs...
I try to dub the melancholy of my heart with your song,
fighting with the mind not to think what went wrong...

Pristine rain drops!! you emanate from the clouds
that were looming over him,
I am tempted to ask you if he sent a message
although the hope is very dim...

Thursday, May 27, 2010

Destiny Vs me....

Oh my dear destiny!!!
Will you succumb to the mutiny?
like the way I want you to be,
a life full of abandon and glee.

Liabilities that come with vacation,
feelings that have expression,
Freedom that knows no frontier,
thoughts that are lucid and clear,

Oh my dear destiny!!!
Will you succumb to the mutiny?
like the way I want you to be,
a life full of abandon and glee.

Every pain with an ointment,
every action with no lament,
a watch which winds back,
no fear of losing the track,

Oh my dear destiny!!
Won't you succumb to the mutiny??
if I dare to spread my wings,
bearing the pain of your stings...

Since when.....????????

Born naked, clad in a sheet,in this world,
Innocent desires and naive questions, in heart, swirl,
Happiness was when the candy man came to our lane,
Sadness was when mom didn't allow playing in the rain,

Does anybody know when the tides turned?
When did the fence between good and evil burn?
Why isn't happiness attainable ordinarily?
Why don't the sorrows stay temporarily?

Since when have our desires become malevolent?
Why have the quetions become so vehement?
Some say happiness is a matter of perception,
Since when have our senses become so insolent?

Born naked clad in a sheet, in this world,
Innocent desires and naive questions in heart, swirl
Sulking meant withdrawing self in a room, to be
pacified by some sweet words and an embrace,
Greed meant having an extra pie of cake, and,
Stealing meant sneaking out that pie from the secret place,

Does anybody know when the tides turned?
When did the fence between the good and evil burn?
When did sulking conclude with vengeance?
Since when greed enveloped the conscience?
When did stealing start to involve violence?

Born naked clad in a sheet, in this world,
Innocent desire and naive questions in heart, swirled...