In Latin, "Ego" is I..
In life, I am but an ego

Does the grass know that it is dancing to the wind...

Does the earth know that it rotates around the sun.

Do dreams know they are not real

Do you know I love you.

Crutches of bondage

The amputated limb feels like a part of me.
A part of me just drifted away.
Like a broken limb of a tree,
Carried down by torrid streams.
Like it, I long to be free.

2 LINE HAIKUS...

The blade of grass stood up to the gale,
The willowy tree gave in.

Mist writes letters on my window-pane
If only his handwriting was a little sane.

Silent contempt,a matchless enemy,
Loud resentment, I can befriend.

The past like layers of oil on water,
Remains immiscible with my future.

In the curve of his neck, nestled my dreams
In the breadth of his shoulders, rested my worries.

In his loud snores, I found peace
Peace, I never found in silence.

Three cheers for sobriety

A bottle of wine,
And for me, you pine.
The morning hangover...
And it is all over

Was it just a ruse...?


The morning breeze visited me enroute to her destiny...
She murmured sweet nothings in my ear...
To her, I gently replied...Don't wake me yet
I am no morning person, dear.


The rising sun called out to me in haste
Shining his torchlight at my eyes....
To him, I strongly replied...Don't wake me yet
Let me be with my morning dreams and it's lies.


The waking baby just gave one whimper
Calling out to my heart in hunger or was it just a ruse...?
To her, I swiftly woke up...
For motherhood knows no excuse

To my daughter...

Her frail limbs can overpower me
Her limp cries can beckon me
Her helplessness - so powerful
I am enslaved forever...

- A mother

During my visit to Paro, Bhutan...

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Amidst the chants of Buddhist monks,
and the hesitant murmurs of the flowing river,
I heard the silence of GOD..
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Scrawls of an unsteady hand...
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Two lines of attempted poetry...
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Sunbeams reach their destined end
Casting shadows of their death.
=======================================
The carpet of grass beckons your feet
Ever willing to be crushed at your whims
=======================================
The waves rush to the calling of Mother earth
The heartless rocks deny their reunion
=======================================
Man builds structures to reach the sky
The sky evades man's ugly hands.
=======================================
Shyness curled her toes,
Love stretched her arms.
=======================================
A feather floated to her destiny,
A rock fell to its end.
=======================================
Dark clouds in a coterie,
Decided to shroud the moon.
=======================================
The blind see the music
The deaf hear the music
It is you and I, who see nor hear
=======================================
His voice booms in thunder
His caress felt in breeze
His anger felt in wind's fury
His tears felt in rain drops
He lives.
=======================================
Time has no end,
It lives in my memories of you.
=======================================

She and He...


She walks the path destined,
Evening parties where celebrities dined,
Jewels, feather beds and rich silks with lace
A beach house, a summer home and a palace
And yet for him, she pined.

He - an artist with just brushes in his pockets,
Who slept by roadside pickets,
With clothes that were stained with paint
And the sully poverty's taint
Yet, her memories never grew faint.

How I wish the tale was thus..
Life however is too practical to fuss
She lived happy to dine and wine
He was better off with out her and her whine.
Life ain't no fairy tale to pine.

Being his wife...
The golden beam escaped through the heavy curtains.
The tiny glimmer dispelled the morning blues.
The windows spoke tales of yesterday's rains.
The hint of his familiar, rythmic breath .
The perfect morning with all its hues.

The unspent anger,the travails of my arduous life,
The tear that always hid at the corner of my eye,
The mistakes of my careless youth with all its strife,
All erased with a single masterstroke of his love.
Makes me live again, Being his wife...