As It Comes To Mind

My daughter stared mesmerized at the shiny new guitar her dad got for her one evening. It was a beautiful red color and had a bit of black on its neck towards the fingerboard. She was eager and excited and cradled it in her arms with all the fondness that children show for a brand-new toy. Gently, she would pluck at the strings and then would squeal with delight as an automated tune played, powered by batteries of course. After all, it was a play guitar meant for children and not really a proper one that adults used. So, she would go about imitating the way professional guitarists played with eyes twinkling away at her parents and an impish smile lighting up her face. And the red guitar would come alive in her hands, a bluish light lighting it up from within as tiny blue bulbs lit up every time a string was touched or the automated tune played.   On night however, something rather strange happened and the little red guitar was at the center of it all. We all had gone ...

  I felt like Wordsworth might have felt As he beheld the field of sparkling yellow Daffodils And poured out his spontaneity in immortal words; Or as Tennyson might have dreamed of When he effortlessly slipped into a trance And furiously penned down 'Kubla Khan'.   There was so much to see and feel and smell Yet so little time to accomplish all I wanted to! So, I made the most of what little time there remained And took off with my little daughter, her young friend and a cousin in-tow; We needed to hurry for in the countryside winter Dusk falls all too rapidly, even though we be in the tropics! The sights were worth the short trek that we took As trees, fields, shrubs, plants and grass All seemed bathed in the verdant green So typical of the place which had given me my roots And every step that I took, Every breath that escaped my lungs, Seemed to say that it is here that Heaven and Earth merge It is here that the true, pure beauty of se...

When the rain clouds colored the heavens with grey, When the wind made everything around dance, And when the skies laughed with joy Until the tears ran down...

"ठंडी हवा, काली घटा, आ ही गयी झूम के  प्यार लिए डोले हँसी, नाचे जिया घूम के..."                                           - Lyrics from the song by Geeta Dutt in 'Mr. & Mrs. 55' The morning dawned a bit chilly today. I felt the drop in temperature as soon as I woke up to the morning alarm of half-past six. On schooldays this is the time I get up to make my little one ready for school. Switching the alarm off I looked up to my window and was surprised to see the less-than-normal light outside. For the past few weeks now, we've been used to getting up in the mornings with the window-view showing semi-dark. Winter, as we know of it here in the desert, is upon us and the sun keeps postponing his rendezvous with the sky till later every morning, just as in the other parts of the world in the Northern hemisphere. Still sleepy and and a bit tired, but with a growing sense of...