Tuesday 23 April 2019

31st of March


Don’t mind me, I am just standing here with my cat, 
breathing in the scent of rain kissing parched earth. 
Gazing with wonder as each bolt of lightning silhouettes the trees, 
and the leaves glisten with joy, smiling back at the dancing clouds.

Summer rain


They clouds make an intense gray canvas, 
and yet they paint the earth with strokes of rain.
We see what happens to the ground, we smell the fragrant joy. 

But I wonder what happens on the cloud when raindrops form, 
what art happens on the dark side.

Dry leaves rushing across the street, 
like teens for a concert.
The breeze urging me to fly, knowing I cannot if I tried. 
The rain cloaking me from this teasing, caressing my brow, 
saying it’s alright.

Climate Action


Watching pebbles that water has disowned,
on a parched dry river bed.
Butterflies dancing in sunflower blooms next to highways, 
with diesel fumes dropping dead.
We humans with our arrogance, 
keep believing this is just ours, in our head.

#ClimateAction

Monday 22 April 2019

No recourse



The proud full moon tangled in her hair,
helpless but to slide along each strand,
spinning gold.

Some of the cheeky moonlight,
Snuck a kiss on her brow where I wanted to,
if truth be told.

The moon was caught, and so was I.
No recourse, but to sigh.

Thursday 1 December 2016

Accept


Accept that you are but an oarsman,
rowing along the tide.

That you are awkward at worst, 
and even at your very best.

You cloak your fault lines
with a hug, some swagger and a smile.

Accept that there are ripples across time,
and you can only work on yourself.
Everything else is just fine.

Thursday 23 June 2016

This morning

Opened the window this morning. Mynah's chirping in enthusiasm, a whiff of sweet morning air.

A girl walking on the street, looking into random cars, hoping to fix her hair. I wanted to shout out 'You look fine, don't worry you've got the flair'.

Friday 17 June 2016

Curtains in Monsoons


The curtain is in paroxysms, dancing with the sea breeze. The monsoons must not be far away.

Like a drunk uncle of the groom dancing when encouraged by the firang girl at a Punjabi Bagh wedding.