Thursday, 26 June 2014


An isolated Ashoka
Huge, in fact, with branches
Mesmerizes ye all
To bathe in fragrances
And a red-hued flowers
Indeed a feast for all
A gentle breeze caressing
Both thy body and soul
No wonder, it’s but serene
Whirr…., a sudden whirlwind
Tossing them up and down
A panic-stricken few
Make a pell-mell dash for cover
Wow, it’s Hanuman
Jumping down to Our Sita
Who is mourning under –
Ram, Ram chanting
Sweep through hearts
Is it a trick by Ravana?
No more mystery it’s !
When Hanuman unlocks
The knots one after the other
Oh, how sad! How painful it’s!
To see a rainbow hue
Yet a glint of surprise in eyes
“My Rama’s Kanayazhi”
A chant takes a toll
The voice of Rama heard
A hope of rescue to come
“Chudamani” is thy message
“Till I reach my God”
Tears choked her voice
Thus she bids thee all.

Tuesday, 24 June 2014


Cooing cuckoo calls
It’s dawn indeed for all
No more sleep now
See thro’ the window
How nice it’s … !
With the golden locks
And red-hued spots
Is’t a magic carpet?
Oh, ye march in the sky
When breeze makes Her way
The whiff of past in air
Uf! No more sleep now
Ye ‘re a furnace
To singe our hearts
Brain can’t move fast
Body cries feeling thy wrath
Why ye spit flames so hot?
When Prometheus is not here
To champion a cause
No more sleep now
When will ye hear us?

Monday, 16 June 2014


Tulip, lily, lavender
Daffodil and rose or
Cedar, eucalyptus,
Sandal spread in air
Sky-high forts and
The birds’ rainbow
Deer, fox, kangaroo,
Elephant or zebra
Know not what to choose?
Or what not to… ?
Mango, orange
Grapes or Cherry
Hi, so delicious
To see and taste
Live, dance, sing
In rain, in hot sun
Or in whirlwind
To be a flower,
A creeper or a
Bee to suck
And give honey
Know not what to choose?
Or what not to…?
To be a macho man,
Or a sweet woman
Or be both in one
An innocent kid,
A playful youth
Or a grey-haired
To sigh and recall
To enjoy and share
The fun or fight
Groan or moan
Cry, scold, love
Laugh or talk
Know not what to choose?
Or what not to…?
Ye ‘re the root
Of all evil, yet
The irony is to see
The right and wrong
Empty we stand
If we leave thee here.

Monday, 2 June 2014

Magic Bowl

Don’t seek here for a morsel
Sorry, it’s dry, dear squirrel
At the back of the garden
Sitting high on the wall sighing
Left ‘high and dry’ with no food
For the master ‘s on leave
Ye, crows, go else where
Don’t know about Him and
His whereabouts, ye dear
Gone ‘re those days, when
Called me as ‘a bowl of plenty’
Now left uncared for:
For the master ‘s on leave
Lonely wait here sighing
Will ye come here crying?
Ye, the father of three
Bye, bye, please take care.