Clouds in the valley...

Beneath the bunya pines, I rest My tired heart and mind, Under their shade, I feel I leave My tired world behind   The stand of Pines lies on the hills Above urban thoroughfares, An oasis filled with greenery, With sheep and prancing hares   Timeless stands the bunya pines Left on their own, alone Remnant of an ancient Farm Where citrus trees were grown   The rolling hills around the pines Make a meadow evergreen, And from that hilltop, city lights From faraway be seen   It is under these towering pines I find my sanctum pure, Their shadows under sunny skies There is no better cure   And hear the miners, cockatoos As they flit through shade and shine Only bettered by the winds When they whisper through the pine The meadows remind of bugyals that I left far behind at home, Alpine pastures - snow clad peaks This heart still yearns to roam   And sometimes the horizon’s whitened clouds Look l...

  I look outside the casements large To stare upon the sea, The endless blues of azure deep Shimmering jauntily   Closer still, the swathes of palm Breathe life in emerald zest, Somewhere, between, lies Harriet Peak With a lighthouse on its crest   These tropical views I drank for long – I could not ask for more, Me ensconced in the island views The seas, the palm fringed shore   But till yesterday, I did not know Mt. Harriet or its scout – In candy stripes of red and white The North Bay Lighthouse stout   Or that they used to grace the notes I held many a time, That cerise-coloured 20-rupee I think it is a crime   Perhaps it never struck me deep That Harriet was this grand, And all these days, the banknote’s charm I had failed to understand   (But Harriet and its grandeur peak – Needs no humans to adore, It has been here for million years And will linger round for more)   Am I ...

  Confusing This need to be heard With company   Mistaking Earthly mortals For Souls who sing with stars   Longing For Flames That are not afraid of being burnt   Seeking For the cosmos And befriending fireflies   And You ask Why you feel so alone?   One day Throw all your distinctions With the infinity of emptiness   The day The drop merges with the ocean There is no more need for loneliness... 28 th March 2024  

There are those days when you may feel Like a climber on the ground, Lying there, so listlessly Making not a sound   Crawling, waiting for a hand, Green grass for company You know there is that something more - A higher place to be   But try as much as you may throw Your tendrils everywhere Sometimes you need that tiny prop To answer to your prayer   Until, one sunlit day, you’ll see Your branchlet growing long Caught at last to a dying stem Broken all along   Call it what’ver you may want A climber’s leap of faith - Sometimes - all you need is a tiny chance A little zen of breath   And like a fish that ‘turns to sea After rockpool solitude The spineless climber turns divine With a newfound attitude   That dying stem – the lonely bridge To hedge, the orchard trees The climber rules upon them all The garden’s nearly seized   On all those days when you may feel Like a climber on the ...

  I remember - climbing stairs Lots of blanched ones up the hill Then, what views of the city sprawl - Paris, endless Paris, our hearts to fill   The summer skies were daubed in blue The dazzling domes three, blinding white Montmarte’s hills were lush with green, Crowned atop, that Parisienne sight   Where every dream that you could stir And every note that you could sing - Eiffel, Montparnasse, Invalides, All tied neat in a September string   Travellers all with outstretched hands City-spotting all the sights away Behind stood smiling Christ and Joan - Let these children laugh and play   That sparkling day, at the Sacred Heart – Why do I mark it above the rest? It was the start of a vagabond’s walk, Slowed and spent, but filled with zest   They were those doors we cannot see Those hid and placed, on our everyday Through which once walked, there is no return As if the world now walks a different way ...

From coral bones, these whitish sands - They run like salt through empty hands, And all around, a turquoise sea Where else would you rather be? The Areca palms, sea mahuas jade The mangroves green in shallows wade Somewhere a pigeon softly coos – Paradise Isle, alone, footloose But Paradise has a Janus face, Roll back the years, and there were days When the sea arose like a titan wall Devouring sands and jungles all Broken shards of coral white Traces few in the spangled light - That,   even Eden has its share of wars Paradise also hides its scars Only that - the island knows not how to mourn For Her - moves Time, ahead alone And all the wounds we count in days Are seconds in her eternal ways Perhaps she’s wiser than we’ll ever know She’s been here longer, seen much more Perhaps, all this beauty, all this life Were born of turmoil and of strife And the judgement’s ours – poorer souls Who separate cities from atolls Wh...

  You and I, Are stuck, As if, on different sands Avoiding differences, drifting away Until we come on different lands   Could we Not have stayed afloat, For our own selfish sake? Did we have to snap and float away Did the dying driftwood have to break?   Now entombed In these beautiful sands of white, We are parted by an ocean vast - That swallows all that ever was, Of rips and tides of all our past   Just when we think There is nothing left In the seas that broke us all, The tide turns high and comes to drown, Sand-dune large and driftwood small   The deluge chokes And drags our pain What price is this to pay? I ask too soon for the tide replies There is no more need to stay   The sea is not A messenger lone, A guardian it is as well, Balancing hopes and dreams and pleas Upon its ebb and swell   We are set free - The sea whispers, ‘Go ahead - One more chance to sail, Even i...

It’s a worthless beach, they said - Full of rocks, not good to swim, But everything is close by in the isle Go to Radhanagar, Now, that one beach is a lovely dream   But they do not know our baseline, We - who are not used to the coral sand, Who are we to judge the shore Shimmering mica, strewn about All around, Havelock Island   At the pale-white beach, I sat then For hours at dawn, at noon, twilight Mesmerised by the banded layers Of the turquoise sea, and pale the sands In yellow-white   At the pale-white beach, I wrote my lines Under the shade of the mahua tree; Shimmering palms, solitude And hermit crabs and green geckos The nearest souls for company   At the pale-white beach, I drank the dusk All on my own, no tourist throng, I inhaled with the rising sun, at dawn As the fishermen cast their nets and sang Their lonesome mourning morning song   At the pale-white beach, I dipped my toes Low the ...