Clouds in the valley...

                                                                               I am a midnight’s poet I stare at the darkness outside And look out For all those twinkling lights In the hills of faraway Fighting the emptiness Of a blacked-out world   Some are connecting With their loved ones From many a seas afar Some are bathing in the joy Of newfound love Feeling special, yet cautious Seeking solace in the dark timelessness Of the midnight’s veil Others like me, We stare outside And bring life to our emotions Crying tears That our hardened eyes Refuse to shed   We are all midnight’s poets, Vigilantes perhaps Refusing to yield to the slumber Of the wearied day Or perhaps, we are misfits - We stay awake at night For we hav...

                                                                                In a different world , perhaps I would be in a different land – Warmer, laced in sunset seas I could be the dreamer that I don’t have time to be   In a different world , perhaps I would stick to paper and ink; Maybe colours for sunsets And the occasional red lips Of your unknown hidden face   In a different world , perhaps I would sleep under the stars And tell you unheard names of constellations Sounding like the light paperback That would bear my pseudonym   In that world perhaps, the book Would have many empty pages And there would be no need To scramble for a bit of space Between packed lines of blotting ink   In one of those empty pages, ...

  There, not far from rocky sands: Rolled-up trousers to the knees, We were staring with amazement eyes - An anemone in the wonder seas   And swirling in its thousand arms, In bands of orange, black and white Came clownfish two - no three and four Hiding shy, in low-tide light   Reflecting sunlight in their scales, As if jewels in the tropic Bay, No snorkel-mask, in naked sight Here they swim, in wonder play   For, in depth of seas, had I searched for these But hard to find are Nemo’s lot, And here they were, on a walking tour On the rocks of Neil, a coral spot   And this the icing on a tropic day After countless corals, rainbow hues, And crabs in purple, green and gold, And tetra, surgeon, angel blues   Imagine then, the treasures still The deeper waters, in sunlight dance Paradise isles that beckon still In the magic of the Andamans… 21 st June’2024   While Havelock takes the indubitabl...

  Whichever way you go, Old legends will beckon, Ram, Laxman, Sita And the stories are reborn   As if, Ayodhya, Mithila lies Here on this very isle Lanka, Kishkindha perhaps A further few more mile   A little bit of myth And religion in these names, Ah, we lesser mortals And all our silly games   The sacral texts all reckoned To name stretches of sand Yet, the islands named on sons Born in a different land   Perhaps legends they were as well, Neill, and Havelock too Soldiers on their duty Faraway from this blue   And as Raghav showed the way That duty’s above all We should forgive these men Who came to their country’s call They do exist in harmony though The names don’t care or feel, Ramnagar and Bharatpur In the island that of Neill…   15 th June, 2024   When I first landed on Neill Island and looked at a map of its beaches, I was struck by their names – on the four direct...

This far, we have not carried our weights – The dirt, filth, and wrappers of emptiness The sands are white and clean, urging you to feel The walk of coral silica blending in your grace   You look the same, unaged, as you did centuries ago, This beauty unblemished by human hands Tucked away in a far-off corner of this world A tiny island draped with marbled sands   But more than beauty, you give us hope – We too can keep the world intact, adorn it more, If we can keep you draped in your primal glow Despite, the million feet that come forth and pour – What cant we reset with a little want – Every beach of gold upon our dying mainland shore…   13 th June’ 2024   I first learnt of the concept of a Blue Flag beach at Radhanagar beach in the Andamans. The Blue Flag is an international ecotourism model initiated to recognize eco-friendly beaches and their effort to protect the marine environment of the beach. In a way, it is a recognit...

  I look at you and wonder How is it you drank it all? The pitcher of poison – Enough to drown our worlds And yet, you did not fall   I stare at your blue throat Until You spark a thought in me, Are we not drinking it too? In the emptiness of our everyday Halahala that we cannot see   Conquering all we do not like To scale the hills of pain, That someday, somewhere there is joy And Colours - that we choose to live With here and there a stamp of stain   We cannot be you - But the little devotion we may hold, Help us live a poison drop, Then, in us we see a part of you In stories that are left untold…   10 th June’ 24 Cover Image: Deviantart          

They would say, Age will dry up These ruddy, glistening eyes. Yet, they keep flowing; What went wrong? When will we realise This emptiness, this solitude Is way greater than A mortal drop of salt. . . . Or were they wrong? That a child's heart need not freeze And yet, it won't be his fault...