Returning

`
I am tired now and need returning
Back where I grew up in,
Where they sing in a tongue I used to know
But such a long time it has been.

I've been too cold and been too dry
Too far away too long,
Will you not fill my cup again
So once more I may belong?

Your wind rustles the leaves up high
Can't it rustle me too,
Return me my voice again
That I may sing with you?

The city has kept painting me
With a myriad hues,
Won't your rain now heal away
The scars of that abuse?

The world's too big and I too lonely
I've earned too much to own.
Come, wash away this loneliness
While I sit with you alone.
`

Crystal Ridge, NY,

June, 2011

Not a madman

`
I'm not a madman Aditya,
Don't smile at me that way.

This moon, these dark
Trees, swaying to the wind
Those boys, all drunk
All loud, all laughing,
Everything
Is so beautiful:
They suffuse me with joy.

Don't smile at me that way.

We walk this moonlit
Spring night, the air
So light, so mirthful,
And you waste time
Mocking me. I wish
You could breathe
This joyous air, Aditya,
I so wish you could.

There, you are smiling at me again.
`

Minneapolis, MN,

April, 2010

Snow

`
Flakes float down.

Unhurried, and casual
And settle down unnoticed

Beautiful in their silence.
`

Minneapolis, MN,

November, 2007

Fall

`
Leaves
Now gold and orange,
and red
Shimmer in the sun.

They look beautiful.
Excited
and full of mirth.
And I so like the way
They sing and they sway.

Yet, I cannot love them.

Pretty they may be
But they do not belong to me.
`

Minneapolis, MN,

October, 2007

Eavesdropper

`
Grave grooves
Of dark, grave hills.

The rain slithers down
Crawling along broad shoulders
Of tall, shadowy trees,

An ancient, familiar rendezvous.

The rain whispers
In dappled notes;
The trees answer back,
Witnessed by the dark
Silence
Of the hills.

The exchange is patient
Yet restless.


' wonder what it is!
' wonder what plans they have
For man…
`

Chandannagar, WB,

July, 2007

`
That night it rained.
Crickets cried hysterically
Pleading for more space
To cry.
I sat awake
And lost:

With so much to say
Still unsaid.
`

Bengaluru, KA,

May, 2007

Sravan Sentiments

`
The deep dark clouds rumble
And crash into the woods.
A thousand raindrops
Suddenly spill over the ancient foliage.

Shrieking, she takes off.

Her anxious feet dart by
And she flashes through the woods,
Her drenched veil
Hugging onto her breasts.

And then, suddenly, she stops.
Her large, dark eyes
Scared and eager
Quiver.

The rains hiss down
Shivering and cold
As she clutches herself close.

A sword of light scars the sky
A cloud claps out loud

As if woken, she smiles,
Lighting up the whole forest
With a hundred torches.
Flinging her arms, she flies off
Again, flashing past.
Only now here,
And now no more.
`

Bengaluru, KA,

March, 2007

My village

`
On my calm river
A song floats
Across my paddy and jute
My brown people
My groves, ponds, homes…
Painting.
Its colour
Is my village.
`

Lakhuria, WB,

October, 2006

June, 2005 at BARC, Mumbai

`
The gray sky, dimly lit
By a million Mumbai neons
The silent dark hills
Peacefully soak in a light drizzle
The dust-laden foliage whisper words of gratitude
As the first monsoon wind tip-toes
Through the great city,
So quiet, so silent,
Careful not to rob her
Of her hard-earned silence and her meager slumber.
`

Mumbai, MH,

June, 2005

Dewdrops on grass

`
Winter and dawn.

And a droplet of dew,

Silent.

Clasps

Onto a rugged blade of grass.

Naive, I exclaim,

"How lovely the droplet.

How rugged the blade of grass."

You smile,

"Every drop of morning dew

Needs her grass to settle down,

And every weathered grass aspires

A moistened jewel in his crown.

Behold the lovely pair."

`

Pilani, RJ,

February, 2005

Evening on my terrace in Chandannagar

`
The moon, so forlorn, so peaceful
Crimson diffusing into blue, the evening sky
Littered with gray cottonwool;

Swaying palm leaves in the gentle breath of air
Squeals of laughter, young children at play
Floats across the distant hum of gong, hymn and prayer.

The disc of luminous gold, across fly swallows free
At each other we gaze, just the two of us,
Lady moon and me.
`

Chandannagar, WB,

July, 2004

Untitled

`
I saw,
Early in the morning,
A green leaf,
On a green tree.
The sun wasn’t yet out;
A caterpillar
Nibbled at the leaf’s edge,
The leaf didn’t speak though
A bird
Fluttered,
And hovered round,
It spotted the green caterpillar,
On the green leaf
Of the green tree…

The bird satisfied its hunger
The leaf was still quiet.
`

Pilani, RJ,

November, 2003