Clouds in the valley...

  Does it still rain, In nimbus shades In that Endless city of yours? We had once Chased clouds there, Do you remember, Our monsoon cures?   Does it still rain, To wipe the stains Of tears that streak The collyrium eyes? Does it still Drench them all – The healed and broken, The truth and the lies?   I hope it does; How else will your Monsoon dreams Breathe, and softly wake? Your valleys of hope Alive in green Your rivers, a sea, A melancholic lake   Here, my city is dry - I’ve had my share Of rains past In lands never mine; But beneath the desert The rivers run in salt The heart stays moist Even in dark sunshine   For it still rains Cant you see, Wherever I be Such was our windward love; In forever’s summer No longer thirst But invisible clouds In empty skies above…   15 th Feb, 2026      

  Somewhere in the Pacific I know, there is an island – Where you and I are watching Eternal sunsets In skies of gold – Where tropic birds fly And there is no more land ahead To disturb the shimmering seas   Here, you and I Have evolved beyond ourselves We have gone back To primitive lands That we become advanced Ahead of time Eden smiles, she reveals Herself In unfulfilled colours   We hold hands. There is no need for words Just the salt of dried-up tears And the warmth of existence There is no rush For the sunsets are forever And we get that one chance To smile what we never said.   But somewhere a whale breaches - Not just the fabric of space But the essence of the stars Night begins to emerge We wonder, was there ever a sunset? Were there even ourselves? Perhaps, only an island Drifting farther and farther away…

In a throbbing world Far from pilgrims’ progress Removed from Shrine We had found a sliver of silence – Endless sands and Winter’s silky sunshine   Like a river of amber Miles of forlorn sand Just us, and a lonely sea Lapping waves, arcing gulls Ganapatipule – a different form Peaceful, and so free   ‘So far from the temple, No wonder there’s peace,’ I think that’s what I said But you corrected ‘But this is his temple too - Perhaps we have already prayed’   The shrine had come to us that day The Lord perhaps, was already there You and I, pilgrims anew Humming quietly A wordless prayer Golden sands, skies of blue…   10 th Feb, 2026   Ganapatipule is a serene coastal town on Maharashtra’s Konkan coast, known for its rare west-facing Swayambhu Ganapati Temple, where the naturally formed idol of Lord Ganesha looks toward the Arabian Sea and the setting sun, symbolising reflection and completion (rather t...

  I still remember That traffic snarl from Ratnagiri – And our detour to Jaigarh The last fortress Overlooking a river Ruins everywhere Yet a vision to the sea That expansion to breathe   A beautiful, moody day, We did not speak a word - Just your tresses blowing In monsoon’s benevolence And I framing those moments Did Life know better than us? Perhaps it did - In its prescience Sometimes it turns gracious   It grants little hidden moments Tiny jewel boxes Meant to be opened In the distant future Only then the gems sparkle - But if precocious, the box Will seem to contain Reflections of our own emptiness   We who both loved The melancholy of the monsoons The foray to the fortresses Needed another trek Perhaps without the rains But with the redemption of the clouds The forgiveness of the sea breeze And the sense of conquest     And Jaigad appeared – The ‘citadel of victory’ – ‘Come...

  In bottled memories I often look back At the spangles Of Revdanda’s gold – You searching the past In the Portuguese ruins While I stared, at a cricket match With the villagers None of whom cared Who won or lost Content to be there To feel Sunday on the breeze; Perhaps they didn’t even care For Sunday Or the breeze Mere words of the writer To fill his story You returned, urging me To join you on the ruins But I don’t stir, I hold your hand Look, here’s happiness Within our reach Revdanda’s ruins Caressed by salt of sea Can wait, Rather, let us judge matches Where we will always win; In the melting golden spangles Of Revdanda’s sands…

  Revdanda was a Sunday’s pitstop Before returning to Monday’s Mumbai   That lazy afternoon, in coconut’s shade You explored ruins on shingled lands While I couldn’t help join the crowds Cheering a cricket match on golden sands   The village was gathered in feverish joy Bucolic paradise in 22 yards   I tried to bottle that moment – a spark, Drifting timelessly on languid skies Revdanda’s life, existence in peace No need for adios, or sad goodbyes   Who’s winning? I asked the villagers Gathered there on Honda bikes   They smiled back, ‘Does it matter? We are just enjoying the match,’ Indeed, the same people hurrah-ing every six Were also celebrating every catch   City folks, they must have wondered Dying for outcomes, starts and ends   ‘What are you watching?’ you whisper to me ‘There’s Portuguese ruins upon the beach’ But I don’t stir, I hold your hand Look, here’s happiness within our re...

  One bite of smoky, roasted corn A drop of lemon, a pinch of salt The smell of burnt evenings Ah! A flood of memories   Nor Vishnu, nor Krishna – I cannot contain the cosmos within   My mouth; yet, an infinite world Swirls for that second of taste   When you and I would seek - After all the waterfalls chased All the hills embraced   – A stick of corn to celebrate the clouds   The dripping wetness of the Ghats The endless staircases of the forts Swirling mists, horizon’s clouds All contained in those cobs of time   There was a time we sought Maize in the monsoon – The whole universe, as if reversed now Turns back, a big crunch   Now here, in dried up skies I seek, Monsoon in the maize - And that sweet taste of corn containing All the clouds that never rained…   6 th Feb’ 2026