As It Comes To Mind

'Twas a midweek morning And I was getting late for work. I rushed out of home looking anxiously at my wristwatch And wishing fervently that I had better managed my time. 'Tis often that I am caught up in this situation And if I'm deserving (as I like to think instead of being just plain lucky) I get to reach office just in time! Today was going to be no different Or so I thought to myself as I stood in front of my home Hand outstretched, scanning the road ahead for the elusive autorickshaw. Little did I realize that I was about to receive an important lesson In some of the finer aspects of human nature! I breathed a sigh of relief as an autorickshaw pulled to a stop; Inside, the driver sat looking askance I gave my destination and he motioned me to get in. As is usual when time is at a premium I mumbled to him about going faster He appeared to have not understood And said "Kya?" Louder I said "Please go a bit faster" He spun around

‘Tis so strange - the range of emotions that can be awakened sometimes, By a mere glance, a slight brush of fingertips, A little pressure of a hand as it fumbles to find your own. Even by the mere proximity of someone Looking into whose eyes you feel dizzy for a moment As if the ground had moved beneath your feet. Your heart gives a little wriggle almost gasping By the rush of blood which surges through your body, Opening up every dormant cell within, And making every miniscule hair stand on end. The breath catches for an instant, There is a moment of pure weightlessness As the body as a whole is lifted effortlessly into the air And you wish you could rise up and become a feather! ‘Tis said that the human heart can distinguish An infinite array of emotions and feelings. But why do we feel sometimes that the heart lets us down That in its very ability to feel so much It somehow loses itself In the flood of these very emotions and feelings That it can recognize? Why does the heart bec

The shadows of the trees outside were lengthening as dusk fell. Meera switched on the lights inside the house and started making tea. Her husband would soon come home exhausted from work and she liked to have the tea ready for him. As she bustled about the kitchen, her thoughts went back to the time when she’d first met Anand. Dwelling with all the fondness of womanly sentimentality, she retraced the maturing of their acquaintance into friendship and finally into mutual regard and caring which drew them into a lifelong commitment towards each other. Four blissful years of married life had followed thereafter during the course of which they had been blessed with a son. “Wham!...Whrrr….rrrr…” The banging of the front door and the commotion accompanying it startled Meera out of her reverie. A small hurricane came crashing through the kitchen door and hurled itself at her. A pair of rather dirty-looking, muddy arms with the most delightful little fingers blackened by grime wrapped themse

The dark black clouds scurrying away, As if in search of a distant bay; The cool gentle breeze whispering along, Dreamily humming a magical song; The huge tall trees swaying to and fro, Doing a wild war dance unmindful of the show; The snow white raindrops falling everywhere, Covering each little leaf and each little petal with a beauty so rare…. The sweet scented air so pure and refreshing Caressing the very depths of one’s soul and being!

They are the clear streams That take their origins From the deep wells of emotions and feelings. They are a reflection of the thoughts That the mind at times struggles to cope with. They are born out of sadness and grief, glory and pride, Fury and bitterness, frustration and despair. They may erupt like lava from an angry volcano, Or pour down in torrents like the tropical rainstorm. But at times they come, silent, unbidden, on unheeding steps Like snow falling on mountaintops And calming the agitated hills and valleys of the mind. A balm to soothe the restless soul And a vent that speaks the language of the heart - sans words! Copious they may be not, Yet they carry away with them the bottled up thoughts Which if allowed to fester within, Might eventually choke up the receptacles of the mind And benumb the heart, Until the soul forgets the very difference Between the right and the real, the imaginary and the wrong. Tears are the gems that shine forth in misery And enable the soul t

Morning dawned - a magnificent, enchanting monsoon morning! I woke up inhaling the heavenly perfume that pervaded everywhere, Of cool raindrops falling hard on parched ground. What a pitter-patter the raindrops make on my window pane! Ah! So long have I waited for these very sounds, So long have I wanted to inhale the smell of rain! So intoxicating, so pure – almost enthralling ones’s senses, Until they become indifferent to all else. The setting seems perfect for an idyllic rendezvous The temptation is there alright, the opportunity too, But I have other things to attend to And so I procrastinate. Later, returning home, I chance to look up And what a sight greets my tired, work-weary eyes! The ocean seems to have risen and merged into the sky My breath catches as I stare enraptured At the brilliant blue ceiling so lovingly painted by Him! And in between are streaks of resplendent orange, The fire god himself stretching out his arms To embrace the grey-blue (or are they a deep mauve?)

A memory arose from the depths of oblivion, A ghost come back from the dead, And stabbed right through the heart. Deeper and deeper it pierced, Until the very life-giving blood seemed drained. A tear drop glistened on the tip of an eyelash; Heart-wrenching agony lay struggling within. A memory broke in on a solitary, care-worn mind, Like a ripple on the placid surface of an inland lake; And the heart soared like a lark into the sky, Gladdened for a moment with barely concealed joy. A wishful, nostalgic smile broke out on the lips, And widened, and turned into a delicious chuckle As the mind savored the blissful moments of the past. A memory darted through the shadowy recesses of the mind Searing the heart with anger and hurt. An angry vein stood out on a forehead, Throbbing like a half-crazed bull on the loose. Bloodshot eyes opened wide, spitting fire, Reliving each bygone moment with agonizing clarity, A bruised soul cried out for revenge, retribution. A memory caught unawares an uns

“Grow old along with me! The best is yet to be, The last of life, For which the first was made." - Robert Browning I saw a picture in the newspaper today, It made my eyes mist over. A simple picture Of a couple holding hands and sitting side by side; An enviable serenity in their eyes, A curious calmness on their faces and a steady smile on their lips, Two souls at peace with each other Sitting in the comforting presence of each other, They seemed in their twilight years But what an utterly beautiful picture they made! I felt a pang, Some where deep inside a chord had been touched It resonated within sending a strange warmth through my heart, A contrast to the chill residing there. I became acutely aware of the coldness within, The lack of any warmth and instead Finding only friendlessness and complete loneliness. What must it feel like I ask myself To sit beside the most important person in one’s life Your better half, your soul mate, your spouse And feel the years melt

She sails by herself, all by herself Serene, calm, unperturbed – a lone time traveler. A big white dot in an ocean of sweeping darkness, All around her, the fingers of darkness Busily try to persuade her to melt amongst them. But she is a resilient one – not easily overcome Though the stacks might appear to be placed against her The odds heavy, the chances slim, That she’ll survive the night. Hers is a silent struggle, A struggle that has lasted throughout the ages. Centuries passed by; men admired her brilliance, Her purity, her serenity, and her perseverance. Some wrote eulogies praising her beauty, A few got drowned in her mystical magnificence, And some others even lost their sanity Mesmerized probably by her stark whiteness. But once in a while, on cloudy nights, As you see her courting her dark amours, Trying to elude their frantic embraces, Sometimes hidden, but visible in a moment, You feel drawn towards her, wanting to go closer And stand staring up at her in awe Seemingly