Clouds in the valley...

  You have conquered More than you will ever know, Beyond Badami, the doabs, Beyond Anuradhapura, Srivijaya Lands you have not yet stepped Remember, once upon a time An empire thundered In the Dakshin Lands Beyond the living temples, centuries old Also lives and breathes your ‘name’ – Chola-mandalam, Coromandel Today as I pass by Unknown streets in an unknown corner Of a nondescript land I see your name And wonder the extents of your conquest Not Tanjore, nor Gangaikonda But Ebenzer, down under in Wales A lonely edifice bears testimony To the oldest shrine in this land From two centuries ago And the covenantors, Recalling their ship to this new land Named this street Coromandel Perhaps they never knew What meant this name Today, nor do the weary travellers perhaps Who brave this far But if we ever choose to delve Deeper and deeper We will trace back millennia To the lands before time We will inevitably land I...

Youthfulness has an enviable energy that is very hard, almost impossible to match with growing years. Career and job pressures, alongside familial commitments make you deprioritise tasks very easily. Then, you find reasons not to attend to a task, in contrast to younger years when you find reasons to accomplish the seemingly impossible. Why am I rambling thus? I just drove past an imposing cathedral with a tall belfry graced by a statue of Mother Mary, that shone in amber golden lights at the onset of dusk. It immediately reminded me of something very similar I had seen years back. Atop a hill, beyond the old port, at Marseilles. Marseilles (pronounced ‘Mar-say’) is the second largest city of France, one of the oldest cities of the continent, and a cultural melting pot on the Mediterranean, attracting travellers and migrants from all around the Mediterranean, as it must have been doing so, for millennia. We had a hyper active day whereby we had trekked along the precipitous blanc...

  It took me A few months to realise There were no more bees in my garden. Winter took with it A few chillies, a curry plant, Did the bees disappear as well? Alas, not winter, but a mite A council scare perhaps, a pogrom The nearby orchards in Bilpin, I read Were bereft of bounties, No plums, no apples or peaches Just emptiness in green – For the bees had disappeared Decimated rather, in hives A disaster, To contain a disaster Already lonely in this land I felt lonelier When I walked in my garden Trimmed, and spring ready But what spring is this? The agapanthus are on time But where is the buzz Of the wings and the gold? Was I better off without the news? I crush the basil florets And waft in its madness Would they come, Will they thrive If I had more heady blooms? Could I have done more To save even one of them? Just then, A native bee appears, the only one Blue banded in its show And disappears just l...

  Kati Thanda–Lake Eyre, located in the remote deserts of northern South Australia, is the country’s largest salt-lake and lowest natural point, lying about 15 metres below sea level. Most of the time, it is a vast, shimmering expanse of white salt crust, dry under the fierce outback sun. Because it sits at the heart of an arid inland basin, Kati Thanda fills only very occasionally—usually when heavy monsoonal rains fall far to the north in Queensland, sending floodwaters hundreds of kilometres down rivers like the Warburton and Cooper Creek. In rare flood years, the lake transforms into a shallow inland sea teeming with life: waterbirds flock to its shores, algae bloom, and the landscape turns from stark desert to a dazzling mirror of sky and colour. But as the water evaporates under the relentless heat, the lake soon returns to its dry, silent brilliance until the next distant rains arrive. A major flood event filled Kati Thanda in 2025, marking just the fourth time in the past...

  As silver creeps into The amber of our autumn years, We often wonder, look back, At the long tendrils Of dreams that we had woven When we were blessed With time and will and hope   But as we step into The throes of wakefulness These wispy dreams of yesterday Shred away like stray clouds Or dissolve In a moment’s taste Of sugary candy floss   And we realise The tendrils needed more - Those walls of support, Coir sticks of jutting luck, A trellis of dangling fatefulness And lots of garden smiles Beyond brooding days   In the last fading sun though Somehow, all seems awash With a tinge Of abstract gold And we see beyond The potted plants of garden sweat The planter boxes of our times   We see all those saplings Dispersed with time Arriving, thriving, unexpectedly Creepers, climbers, ramblers all A pair of nesting doves Hovering bees, the lacewings Who called this, their homes of small ...

  Like a lance, it looks up The first agapanthus In the backyard Always special –   As a vanguard Promising more of its ilk To run wild in the garden With summer colours   That rich purple Will paint the green of bushes all A ballast of hues December warmth   They collude, don’t they? Just when the jacarandas Are done with their insanity The agapanthus strikes   Baton of blooms passed They will carry the colours Deep into summer’s heart Long until the solstice mirth   It is the first one though That melts your heart Almost always Unexpectedly seen   Popping up One hot sultry day Like a long, forgotten friend Sending a sudden text And you remind yourself She’s still around Usual self And remembers me   And you smile, One more winter Has thus passed by One more year of wisdom spilled   Now, one more summer Of heat waves Balmy rays Laced with agapanth...

  One winter took with it Three seasons of mirth, And my garden – desiccated, Looked more forlorn Than my hidden heart But such is Life, We are always looking In the wrong direction   For in a hidden corner I found, Evidence of life as well, Growth, a bit of jubilation, Sheathed in emerald An abundance of chlorophillia In the tininess Of my succulent garden   The Burro’s tail Had through winter Descended like Rapunzel, While the echeveria And the aeonium Grew in floral whorls (Now that my garden Was bereft of blooms)   The Haworthia Grew many a tail While the agave shouted almost For a bigger lair of earth There were many more From the nameless ones That grew in one winter of Neglect and disregard   Even when the leaves have shed The world keeps growing Be it in the emptiness Of the deciduous outside Or the cornucopia Of succulents inside Perhaps, they don’t test themselves But...