Books, Paper, and Pens

Books were bought with care and cherished; not hoarded into digital spaces because someone recommended the next best-seller. Reading was not competition; it was relaxation.

Perilous Mountains of Sikkim, 2017 – Part 2

Far from civilization, in extreme weather conditions, no connectivity, living each day in disciplined rhythm, probably the soldiers also wait for the colourful, boisterous tourists to arrive at their sentinel!

Touristy Notes from Sikkim, 2017 – Part 1

Tiny tots like him walk to school on weekdays with siblings, trotting dangerously along the edge. It is scary but they look unperturbed, their cheeks red under the clear mountain sun.

Memoryscape

They say sights make lasting memories, a touch imprints forever but it was the smells that lie splattered across her memory-scape. This is her story through the years, tracing an olfactory journey, as she put the pieces together, wondering what lies next. 1980 –  It is the smell of soap – an expensive luxury barContinue reading “Memoryscape”

Before the Sun Sets

They run throughThe sunlit groveSummer in their hairSweat clinging to strandsSun-kissed nowSunburnt at duskIt bothers not muchFor childhood is aboutFruit orchardsYellow fieldsAn amusing prank hereA scraped knee thereMaking memoriesBefore the sun sets!

Spectre

Did the strings breakOr the melody die outWere they so complexThe words and the sounds?Composing emotionsDid you fall into the trapOf raking up memoriesKept under a wrap?Now here’s a whimperThere a mad laughterGrief from the pastRises in dark spectre!

Gulmohar

Gulmohar trees swayingIn the summer heatTawny branches burstingWith fiery flowers,Crimson petals carpetingThe gray gravel roadGleefully picked upFor sword fightsWith tender stamens;The tiny tip breaking freeIn innocent gamesLosers none, all winners be!Green sepals becomeFake nails in child’s playIt is all beautiful, speckledLike colors of tomorrow!A burst of tanginessTingling the soul,Children head homeChewing sepals, petals;Just a flower,Continue reading “Gulmohar”

Balancing Act

I am wandering, wonderingHow to balance lifeTo surrender or striveTo capture the momentOr let the memories fly by!In the space between thoughtsWhere I often feel lostI am seeking answersTo saunter, gallop, or stop?

Wrinkled Memories

Time after timeI return to the gladeOf joyous thoughtscapeSilver dandelionGolden sunraysAroma of a picnic lunchLove notes in the basketIn windswept lettersOn fragile paperGossamer storiesOf loving, leaving, longingBlowing in the breezeWith yellow petalsWrinkled memories