The Storm

A beggar’s misery we really don’t see. Giving a coin or a 50 rupee note, is just a reflex For some people. We rarely Give a moment to look at a specimen That struggles daily with green dough, The type that goes to his palm In small numbers. Struggle is never easy It is a…

Two Poems

Transience The moment You find a little edition Of fate or fateful And all of a sudden, the moment Is gone – in a wink, a beat An inhale – when circumstance Issues a consequence. We can never really endure anything And that by itself, sells The human conflict Of that moment lapsed Knowing it…

Reality is a Storm

Storms are like grunge music festivals They cause havoc for those who like The country crooners or Bob Dylan’s harmonica.  And life is never a bed of roses, or lilies or hibiscuses. No flower can symbolize that grind That forestalls you before it all begins. Anticipation is a dark monster and the moment after A…

Storm

Sometimes, storms come and go Like dusk and the immediate twilight, bringing with them The gloom, the murk, those looks of apathy That stare like kingfisher eyes And everything dissolves through the pupil Only to be coughed out as salty tears Fragmenting the many pieces of you And when those lies made stubborn By omission…