Clouds in the valley...

A ruddy derelict building stands – Beautiful, past its prime, Like many a gem, humbled by The crumbling layers of time Rich and grand, though long ago, Was it fit for a kingly stay? The salt of seas for hills of teak So far from Mandalay? Ratnagiri for rich Rangoon Could a Sea replace a Bay? Hush, the palace warns our asks The king rests here, let him lay This was home, his final dream His peace in last few years, But if you listen carefully You hear his exiled tears You hear him cry for far-off home The trudge of his heavy feet For he who once owned land and skies Had not a single street This empty house his kingdom last - Mandalay for a chawl, Do you want to mock even this piece? His last sceptre on a knoll Red as Burmese rubies, This house here tries to glow But there’s that much that a moon can light A prison that can grow In the summer’s heat, we hear no more But the sighs of a distant crown, Broken dreams o...

  There are days When not even a magpie’s shadow Or a silhouette can be seen And then, today comes in bright colours -   Not one, but half a dozen King Parrots come to my garden green Vermillion and moss They streak through skies of blue - While I admire, these birds have grace Not galah’s silence Nor ruckus of cockatoos white They're thoughtful, like glowing summer days Their whistles float all afternoon, As I listen, eyes closed, and think This world has balance, but only found When you throw away the scales And let perfect days float without Demands of colour, sound... 13 th Jan’ 2026 Based on true incidents - The Australian king parrot is a strikingly vibrant bird native to the humid forests and well-treed suburban gardens along Australia's east coast. Unlike other parrots such as cockatoos or galahs that thrive in open urban environments, Australian king parrots prefer dense rainforests and wet sclerophyll forests. They are l...

  At Yarramundi, You can dip your weary feet In the Nepean’s healing flow – Here, its chapter ends With the Grose, the Hawkesbury starts Sluggish, steady, slow   This far end The Nepean has nothing to lose It will gladly wash a part of you And take those broken dreams Scattering them Somewhere in the Pacific blue   But do not sigh for the part you lose - If it is a shard of hope Let it sail and float afar; It will come back: A rainbow, drizzle, summer’s cloud Or maybe even a silver star   And if you lose a piece of grief Be grateful to the Nepean’s flow Write a poem, perhaps a song Throw it in the summer’s stream Watch the ink dissolve and die - And writer, written will un-belong   Do not sigh for the part you lose - Let it flow, let it go - This much, the river lets you grow Here, at Yarramundi, Where you can dip your weary feet And be a part of the Nepean’s flow….   10 th Jan’ 26 ...

  I stare at gigantic cones No, I have never seen these before Though I have walked These meadows For many a year   I hear a chuckle The Bunya pines laugh – Your many years Are only a second In the eternity of our times   Indeed, they have been here Since Jurassic times On this Farm itself For centuries now (While we, how do we compare?   We, who never belonged To any country lands Moving on, year after year In search of a little hope, Some love and sustenance)   I look up at their straggly heads Then below, at durian pines And wonder Why do I feel a light of joy? When they speak again   You perhaps have been here before As an Elder of an ancient land The fruiting season A festival for your tribe Food, pine nuts and that is enough   To celebrate The essence of life Something you’ll have lost Except sometimes, as these A tendril memory from aeons past   I touch a pi...

  I stand beneath the Bunya Pines That form a wall of green I marvel at these sentinels – Their shadow, cool, serene   Their spiky leaves cover the floor But wait – there’s something more Gigantic cones, colossal each Unlike any I have seen before   What are these bombs? Coconut pines? Raw like the Jurassic trees - I am amazed - this is the first I see them in these seas   But I hear a chuckle – Is it the pines? I look up as they sway How long is it you’ve crossed these hills? It’s a long and weary way   While we - we have been for longer times Before your kind began We have seen the skies, the earth transform We have seen the birth of man   We also talked to your elders lost These pine nuts once a treat – I can see their vision in the skies Gathering pines in summer’s heat   They have been here, indeed for long ‘Living fossils’ quiet and tall The world has moved, the city’s changed We...

What valley do you return to, When you get burnt by your sun? Where is it you go to heal When all your battles are won?   Mine are hills of jade - They calm each broken heart, When emptied of all my dreams I return to that quiet start   They are hills of monsoon fresh Bleeding with waterfalls, Soft with rugs of jade Melancholy in their calls   But they too are not eternal souls - They die in summer’s red It’s when grey clouds come to brood They wake again from dead   They remind us: we cannot always win Sometimes, we need to cry as well It is after, when we wake We have stories rich to tell   It is this green refuge I return to heal my scars Come, we’ll lie on rugs of jade And listen to the stars   While moist earth fills us back Tears once emptied dry, These are the hills that make us smile - So we can once more sigh…   5 th January, 2026   Dedicated to the Western Ghats a...

    Just the two of us that day, On yet another offbeat way The others could not come with us Busy in their weekend rush Some absorbed in their leisure goals Others zealous with their career roles But memories lost, one more dream Un-forded one more sojourn stream Yet, Korlai was a jewel box A beach, a lighthouse, rampart rocks A firangi fortress, whispering tales The familiar breeze of Konkan sails Fishing chawls on the Arabian Sea A blend of Latin, Konkani A scent of Goa, that old world charm Lost in time, in Korlai calm I look back now, at memories gold Tales that can’t be sung or told My friends won’t know their miss that day Nor will they recall their work, or play We seldom stay on the same page long We rarely get to sing the same song But when you do, walk that mile Years later, you will always smile… 2 nd January, 2026 Perched quietly on the Konkan coast near the mouth of the Kundalika River, Korlai For...