Freedom

Nasty Rains

Rains are beautiful, it brings life, energy and hope. But when its merciless; it can be trouble. The past few days has been raining cats and dogs in Bangalore with gusty winds. The inconvenience is inexpressible. Rains - are beautiful only if you are not stuck in it.

Portable Temple

Indifference

Pendulum

Direction

Crunch of the snow as I walk on them

Muffled by the howling wind.

Air wet and frigid; I bend my head down

Protecting my naked face from the biting cold

As if in respect to the harsh weather.

Rhythmic marching; one step at a time

Not a creature in sight; an unwelcome eerie.

This night seems to be long.

Awaiting in anticipation; a flicker of light,

The warmth and the coziness of bed.

I wish someone was walking with me.

My hurried steps wander; homebound.

The blurry slush, squelching as I drag my feet.

I’ve defined my path, so no turning back.

I’ll defend it; until I hit the high wall.

Crossing a bridge; rickety and narrow.

The black of the water shimmer

The moon’s imperfect reflection; dances.

Teasing me of my situation. Ah! An irony.

Wait in the wings I will; quiet and patient.

Squeezing the compass in my hand, I continue.

I turn a bend and find myself at crossroad.

Two narrow path fork; which one now?

Halting in my footsteps, I gaze as far as I could

Do I see any signs of light? Far away?

Those thoughts reach me again.

My fingers caressing your face.

The scar on your nose; you were conscious about.

I really liked them. Have I told you that?

Sure, its not relevant now; is it?

I cast my eyes again on the forks.

I need to pick a path and continue.

Its gotten late. I feel so lonely.

Guess I should keep walking.

And I wish you were walking with me. 

Tomorrow

Picture clicked by me at Hikkaduwa, Sri Lanka back in 2012.

Exclamation

Life

A hot, strong cuppa.

Now going lukewarm

A third cup for the day

What is so brewing?

To guzzle up on coffee?

Nothing my friend

Just the boredom

Zapping energy that’s little left

Resigned and accepting

of the monotony.

Oh! There are highs and lows

Phases are like sine wave

Riding high on unexpected joy

Drowning in unexplained sorrow.

What would be life

With only joy or sorrow?

A masterpiece called LIFE

At times abstract, transcends  

understanding. Purpose of life;

I brood over it. Time and again,

this recurring question

is a stepping stone to

discover myself further.

Mighty Mekong

Down the river; on a slow boat.

Slicing the water as the motors propel it forward

The muddy red waters; splashes and crashes.

Eddies dancing around; spraying at times

Water drops hit my face; and I shut my eyes

Like hide n seek; we play again.

Watching the countryside views as the boat cruises.

Orange robes clad monks on the river bank.

Run to the river; and take off the clothes.

The river does not care if you are skin and bones

Or if you are plump and chubby.

And few throwing pebbles and chasing others.

Serene, disciplined monks showing their inner self

The child within them.

See those white little birds occasionally;

Soaring high, always in pairs. One follows the other;

Wherever they go, they are together.

Not a sunny day; its cloudy and breezy

Yet a lovely day.

Weeds float by, thriving and encroaching

Of what use? To the fishes and men?

The boat man steers away carefully

Avoiding them. Of what use, are they?

A woman in dirty clothes and straw hat

Grubbing in her tiny patch of land.

Chillies or beans? Potatoes or cabbages?

My thoughts wander.

Sweeping hair off her face; the lady beside me

Tries to click a snap or two

Of broken yet colourful wooden boats,

Marooned on the banks.

A calming presence away from the crowds.

The water current smooth; silently passing

One view to be enchanting than the previous.

Upon the steep banks; logs of wood

Strewn around; slapdash.

Once giant age old trees; lifeless now.

Waiting to be thrown away on the river

For the current to carry them.

Couches and beds and shelves will they become.

For my and your insatiable lifestyle.

Men’s lecherous greed, raping nature shameless

When will it end?

A man at a distance; squatting with a fishing rod

Trying to catch a fish or two for family’s supper.

Kids watching from the deck of their house.

Few clamouring on the wooden rickety ladder.

Waving at the slow boats passing by

Muddy mighty Mekong

Lifeline to thousands.

PS : The scenes as I saw when I went on a boat and back for 4 hours on Mekong while visiting a cave 

Smoke

Shrouds of smoke;

Spreads as if there is no boundary.

Raises up; engulfing the entire space.

Lacking discipline; without a thought for anything else.

I sigh! I fume! What do I do?

Let it rise up and choke?

Or run away to an eternal freedom?

The smoke; its enticing.

What is it that attracts me?

Like a moth attracted to a flame.

There is nothing but destruction.

Is it glamorous to play with danger?

Or the rush in head for thrill?

Choking on the words that I so wanted to say.

Drowning in the thoughts that was never shared.

But it seems that I love everything

That will kill me gradually.

An unseen scar, an unheard whine.

Knowing all the while; it will kill.

Its alluring; to be burnt away

Like an incense; holy it seems.

Serving a purpose; however I know

It’s a suicide.

I will still enjoy till my last breath.

Pleasure Trip

The sun throws his final rays,

Glorious specks of gold,

Glistening on the lake.

Occasional boats pass by

Disturbing the calm waters.

The others tied to the quay; rocking to and fro;
They would all night; until set free in the morning. 

Beyond; the trees and the mountains

Form a silhouette; dark outlines, blurring details.

Are they sad? Seeing the sun go down?

A pup plays fetch; tail wiggling,

Jumping into the lake with glee,

His bum twitching and twerking,

As his owner throws the big orange ball.

His world so simple yet magical.

Night life starts along the waterfront. 

Food and drinks; in abundance.

Friends sitting by the edge, chatting. 

Lovers cuddling and stealing kisses.

Every few minutes; I see the drama of the sun

Displaying an aura of a master

Who has orchestrated the evening

And now ready to sleep.

I am here; in my own world

Watch the scene; sitting by myself.

Munching on tortillas; 3 of them with "no carne". 

Why am I here; alone? 

Should I've been with my partner?

Holding hands while watching the sunset together?

Should I've been with friends? 

Cheering up over beer? 

Why am I taking a pleasure trip alone?  

Idiot!

An idiot! I am.

Ask me why?

Well I am; but don’t know why?

Want to go to la-la land

And sing the song of nonsense

To the rhythm of la-moron

An idiot bird on my shoulder

An idiot dog by my side

I’d walk like a total dunce.

We will roll and laugh

Throw dirt on each other.

Like a thorough nincompoop

I’d build a simple hut

And plant an idiot’s garden

Till and water idiotic plants

Bunkum! You say

But you are a blockhead too.

Why? You ask?

I know; because I am one too!!

String of Jasmine

A rhapsody of scent, unexpected. 

Welcoming; in an otherwise dull reception.

I turn around to spot a lady unassuming.

A string of jasmine flowers

Coifed on her long silky hair.

Ah! a refreshing aroma.

Jubilation; to see a lady

Clad in brightest of saree with

contrast of blouse; unmatched.

Muffled jingles from broken bells;

On her silver anklet. Assorted silver rings

Straining her slender toes.

The face; as innocent as it could be

Is the innocence just outward?

I know not; not that it matters.

Bright big red dot on the forehead;

And a tiny smear of vermilion;

Middle of her neatly parted  hair.

Glittering gold with rubies accentuated

Earrings , bangles and necklaces

The elegant lady was all decked

As if she were to attend a wedding.

Realized I was in hospital only when;

My name was called to consult the doctor.

Realization

As twilight sets in;

I brace myself up

For a long lonely evening

My pet; unaware; of the storm

Brewing within me;

Calmly rests his face on my lap

Whimpering with pleasure;

Eyes; half closed; licking my fingers

With contentment

There! the twilight

The reality sets; the dreams end

Or; do they?

Mind races across;

Like a Capuchin

Jumping from one branch to another

I let the thoughts race

To the past; which is futile

To the future; on which I have no control

The present; I seem to forget

and let it slip by; unnoticed.

Foolish you could call.

Dumb me! I’d say.

The day sailed smooth;

Bright sunshine and cool breeze

Happy chirping birds and people’s blabber.  

With my love’s soothing voice of sweet nothings

Why hover to unknown; when the present is so fine.

I realize that; just in time.

Twilight – I brace myself up.

My thoughts interrupt –

With a phone call reminding me to workout ;-)