Clouds in the valley...

  We had always wanted to see The giant lilies – Amazonica Victoria Another Columbian exchange Hiding in my city’s corner   But every time we went There was disappointment No lilies, not even buds Just lily-pads Gigantic saucers on the pond   When I think of them today though I realise It was never about the lilies But the marbled leaves The sunny days   The prancing jacana The watchful kingfisher And us returning each time To sip from The invisible lily’s nectar   And those pearly drops Shimmering on those leaves – There but not there – Neither belonging to the lake Nor to the lily pads Just like the lilies Tantalisingly slow But hopeful That one day, there will be blooms The garden will glow   Just like ourselves Perhaps still there, waiting Two drops that couldn’t meet the lake Yet shimmering with the sun Smiling at lilies that never were…   10 th April, 2026  ...

'Why are we choosing darkness In the cold of winter?’ You are not amused – After all, we were so far Kissing the hill tops – Bejewelled lookouts awash in sunlight Shining with the gems – Mount Solitary, Megalong Valley And other jewels of the Mountains Blue   Before long, We have descended into the dark Endless stairs heading To the depths of the forest floor We feel the nip - The ravines are moist The ferns drip, the fungi breathe But then, an unexpected gurgle: We have come to Siloam’s Pool   A small waterfall tumbles Onto golden shallow sands And sunlight finds its way To pour upon the pool Like a secondary fall of gold Like a halo, the ravine glows We both know this is a dream And we say not a word   You have already entered The frigid waters that kiss your gasping skin We linger in the amber pool – Even as the light begins to fade For we can feel the magic - As if there are fairies waking to find T...

If you visit Old Bar, You will find another sleepy village: A beautiful coast of gold, The deep turquoise of the sea, A sandbar that resists The Manning’s kiss of the sea And three layers of infinity – Sea, sky and soul Merging in that endless slumber Of the wearied waves But listen carefully - There, beyond the waves Buzzes an airplane Landing here, taking off there The azure skies seem a palimpsest. The old folks smile – They know the whispers Of the phantom we cannot see They point to the grass of emptiness - An airstrip of yesteryear Here, even today The Hawker Demons and Gannets Continue to lift, Charles Smith draws crowds And Nancy Bird inspires generations. But don’t look too closely, The runway parts seldom- And only a few hear a sonic boom, As Old Bar buries its secrets In the murmurs of the endless sea… 5 th April, 2026 Old Bar sits on the Mid North Coast, about 315 km north of Sydney—roughly a 3.5 to 4-ho...

  Every time you got lost, I knew exactly where we could find you - In the labyrinth of books Where countless tales comforted us We were just one more drop In an endless sea   Stories from around the world Left there, As we wandered, Through inky dreams Till we forgot where tales stopped And reality sprang   Sometimes, I wonder Do you still travel to that sea? Do you still drift there on summer noons? I must admit, in my 9-5 job There’s not much time to lose myself Deadlines loom through the day   Sometimes though, on a quiet Sunday I still go in search Of lost souls weaving dreams In a sea within the city’s soot The stalls stay closed, but I see books Tied in bundles, neatly stacked on empty roads…

I  stare at a sea of books – Every lane and by-lane Stacked with used books Ah, that musty, yellow love Strewn across for miles Countless shrines – with wisdom shine   But it is not just sepia pages It is the emotions in those books Trapped forever -   I lift random books And imagine the countless tales That live in every page   A scribble here, a note there Someone understanding the cosmos Then, a dog-ear of delay, Did she pause to look outside the window? Our Charulata? What did she see that the fold remained?   In another book, a flattened rose – Surely not Oshibana? Was it then a love letter? A gift? Forever pressed between chapters lost? A memento of love In a manuscript of maths     An old newspaper’s bookmark, A hastily scribbled phone number, A magazine cut-out of a beautiful face, Or a doodle here, a cartoon there A story within the story - Every memory, an unfinished tale ...

  An old friend passed away today He was genuinely old – Rather too old How he took to the changes of our world I do not know. Perhaps, that is why He befriended children Our last rays of hope   Perhaps every child in this bustling city Was once his friend Until we each grew up; Knowing somewhere in the void Our friend exists, No need to meet We are happy to know Somewhere, he is there   In the midst of all our busy excuses He chose to wait no more; We will carry on But somewhere, the part of us That refused to grow, cries quietly So many friends yet to make But he chose to no longer stay – An old friend quietly passed away today…   28 th March 2026   Dedicated to Adwaita – the Aldabra tortoise at Kolkata Zoo, and the longest living animal ever recorded on Earth. Legends say he was gifted to Robert Clive after his victory at Plassey, making Adwaita over 250 years old – a marvel who was shown by one gen...

  Around a turn, I stop – A massive billowing cloud Sparkles in the blue skies. Lost in my dreams, I tell myself: One day – I will turn thus But not find a cloud It will be a silver peak – Kanchenjunga, Nanda Devi, Machchpuchare The name matters not It will be a man and a massif Someday…   I close my eyes, Am I still here? Creating a future dream Or perhaps, I am already far This moment a living memory It is all a dream of thoughts Connected by threads of existence It is on these strands we walk And pretend to awake – I open my eyes: The clouds have turned to snow And man has turned to mountain…

  Like tear drops Rolling down, The Spanish moss Trickles too - Down branches and twigs Tendrils of longing Holding firmly To the tree of lost love   With time The tree is full Of the old man’s beard Its soul though Still drowns in melancholy As the moss Sobs silently But you and I just see growth – We claim, ah, the art of nature…   19 th March, 2026

  I stare at carved panels And wonder - Is this how Sanchi would look Trapped inside a hall? Two thousand years of history At least some have been preserved The surreal work of the Sungas A lost world carved in stone   But most people rush by - They don’t even know what these ruins are, Like any other debris Gathering dirt in a showcase But if you touch a piece of stone Perhaps the lotus, the wheel - You will get transported To the Bharhut of golden times   A large stupa, ornate gateways And the Buddha’s last remains - Maybe you can see its birth Piyadasi’s dreams, a Hellenistic touch; But careful - one wrong breath, Or a grumbling whisper And they all come crashing down; Bharhut reduced to ruins   But wait, do you see it? A reliquary left behind Its path hidden in these very rocks Breathing life, whispering the truth The treasure visible to those alone Who can touch the lotus blossoms Of a long-forgot...

  Winter’s Kolkata Full of restfulness On the Memorial’s greens; Some are active, Busy clicking - The marbled wonder Wrapped in Makrana, Victoria Memorial – our eastern Taj (The professionals seek its reflection In the Memorial tank)   But you fixate At the very top – The wings The trumpet, The laurel Ah, the Goddess of Victory You understand my curiosity ‘She alone was allowed To disturb the illusion of symmetry’ Angel wings moving with the wind   ‘But once in a while Even the goddess is stuck Against the whims of the universe’ I could see the angel reflected In your shimmering eyes ‘But she stays – Wings spread out, Ushering hope in the metro ’ Perhaps, the seraph smiles That only few of us can see…   14 th March, 2026   The Victoria Memorial in Kolkata was conceived after Queen Victoria’s death in 1901 by Lord Curzon, drawing inspiration from the Italian Renaissance style and the Taj Mahal. ...

At Rabindra Sarovar You wonder How is it, That this vast lake Has no sunset birds?   This expansive lake - With lily pads, lotus ponds - Yet no flock at dusk Perhaps they need no closure But I don’t voice my words   The sunset came and went Like ourselves - Blazing only to dim, Yet, those missing silhouettes Stirred your inner restlessness   In the dying yellow Of the skies You have given up When I smile And point up to the last of rays   And you stare Eyes wide open In disbelief Not one, but three Large ‘V’s of cormorants fly   All at once One above the other. Unlike me, my city succeeds As we silent fade In the last rays of a sunset sky…

  Toc-a-toc Toc-a-toc Toc-a-toc Mid-day’s heat: Somewhere, In the midst Of the city’s din If you pay attention You can hear Above the hawker’s cries Beyond the truant kids A coppersmith at work   Not bidriware But the barbet Tinkers an old dream Reminding faintly Beneath this veneer There is another city Of Mango trees A kingfisher in the shadows And Chatim’s delight, The sepia city seems to stare From an old photo left behind In a musty book from yesterday   But all of this Clouded by the gasoline Of tomorrow’s Kolkata Still shouting: Cholche na Cholbe na Receding softly If you sit up and listen To the coppersmith’s world, Awakening us anew Toc-a-toc Toc-a-toc Toc-a-toc… 12th March, 2026

  Cloudy days - How long will they keep painting my Sky? Time and again, they come Bringing the smell of wet earth From the past, As much as unseen memories From the future   But what if, They are not here to romanticise? Rather to get over with: The red earth saturated so much That the inland seas from yesteryear Arise once more To enrich the land not our own   Let it bleed Let Eromanga rise again Let the fossilized memories Come to life again That we are set free To roam the desert sands Where a new adventure awaits…   8 th March, 2026   The Eromanga Sea was a vast inland sea that existed during the Cretaceous period, covering much of what is now inland Queensland and South Australia. At its height, it stretched hundreds of kilometers, creating a rich marine ecosystem that preserved fossils of marine reptiles, ammonites, and early dinosaurs. Over millions of years, the sea gradually receded, leaving behind...

  Clouds come to the hills Not to the seas, Yet your cloudy eyes appeared On Nagaon’s sands   ‘Who comes to the beach On a rainy day?’ You could have said, But you too were lost   In angry waves, howling winds The foam of lashing seas, Under inky blue skies Bringing waves of rains   Redemption, indeed In that deluge above, In that flood below Nothing for the eyes to hide   And then, you smiled You realised: It was never About the hills or seas One could be either   It is the rains that unite Dissolving all emotions Until it’s just you and me, Left behind on a cloudy day…

Purple lights Of the Howrah Bridge Ferry caught in the rains And we, in our nor’wester That first kiss Without the kiss While dancing in the thunder And hoping the journey never ends   But summer’s storm brings short relief. At the busy Howrah Station I turned back And time split, a part of me still there On the ferry Tasting rains, looking ahead The other me, awaiting clouds Under purple lights that fade away…   4 th March, 2026