Archive for October 2017:

tussle

filling spaces with sacred
vibrations emanating
from
impeccably chanted
slokas in pure sanskrit
I daily fashion
a loch
of serenity
for immersing
myself in
..
Even though away from my country
country stays deeply rooted
. …and this is how
I daily pilgrimage
.. …mind’s eye gently parting
matted dreadlocks of Lord Shiva
for releasing holy river Ganges
conjuring bracing
glacial cascades
in New York city
..
swabbed
mind and body
swaddled in ochre
suitably anointed
with hints of sandalwood
swirling from incense burners
vermilion dot “Tilak” for third eye
on forehead ..right hand worry beading
strung108 incantations crafted
in holy basil.. involuntarily looping
..
trick-a-treating mind
tantalizingly stays elusive
locked in an annoying tussle
between a mushy dithering heart
and an impatient mind
raring to cut it’s mooring
from all bonds with finality
immersed in a pooled loch
of light diving
surfacing diving…..

throttle

 

going for the jugular
I throttle
inner darknesses
rendering full throttle
to the lightness
of my being

when was one
apart from the other
I query of myself
ever fascinated
by life’s chiaroscuro
renderings

Fatigue sloughed rested
mind is no longer arrested
and creaky bone joints visualize
benign tai chi as i daintily sip
chai tea make believing
tis a smoking joint ..
..

there is something
calming to awake
in “me time” when it’s
neither night nor day
in-betweens are always
heavy with possibilities
..

Nowadays I live
with hope in one hand
never say die attitude
in other ..karma’s chips
may fall where they must
bonhomie stays inviolate
..

my musings amuse lazybones
part of me as I habitually peruse
“to do” lists good intentions
forming fizzling simultaneously
on account of the premise tomorrow
“there’ll be nothing to look forward to”
..

I so enjoy
being both
witness (sakshi)
and view
cogs and browsers
in my head going
cha-ching !
..

going for the jugular
I throttle
inner darknesses
rendering full throttle
to the lightness
of my being

photograph: Olive Cotton circa 1935

surfaces

.
everything has a skin
like boiled milk
even oceans molting foam
on shores
..
nowadays am afraid
of scratching skins
wondering what will
adhere to fingers
..
underbellies
are heavily weighted as is
by guilts of of commissions
omissions
..
certain invitations
fill with extreme trepidation
swallowed bites still woefully draw
blood in mind’s stricken gullet
..
meanwhile push pull of blood
pings weak guilty currents
baby aspirin thinned blood
lacks overcoming ability
..
serenity intact shall emotionally evolve
into that glorious Costa Rican Jesus
Lizard walking on water successfully
skimming surfaces of emotional debris
..
yes
sir
two bags full sir
by God, I can do it !

image: google

dear Neena

distances
matter not
‘cos our parallel
dimensions
collapse
every time
I think of you
and you’re
right there
before me

your birthday
is in two days
… I’ve spit
polished our
memory box
for recollecting
individually
and collectively
our joint
history
..
each leaf
has its own
unique fragrant
tint and I shall
lovingly reminisce
upon each one
imperceptibly
inching forward
unhurriedly like thick
molasses
..
memories
are sweet on tongue
never sticking like bones
in throat that can
neither be spat
nor swallowed
…they just are …
no more no less
implacable
as is…
….
on your
special
day I shall
raise a toast
to you
to what you
truly meant to me
cherishing “us”
for what we were
in kinship and love

do
linger
…stay a bit
until I
expertly
rearrange
my features
in your
most
likeness
..
I still love
and
miss you terribly
dear big sis
and do know you
were the only one
I always let
emotionally blackmail
me
jubilantly
..

October 28, 2017

Dear Neena :

Happy birthday !
..

fleeting thoughts
float as feathers…
I fumble they tumble
in my grieving heart’s
chambers as colored
glass in memory’s
kaleidoscope

..
you were
the one
who always noticed
storms
in my eyes
broken sobs
in my voice and heart

..

and shared
your own woes
our floodgates opening
and after our mutual
storms we usually ended
up by insanely
laughing

..
rest in light
in utter peace
know
you were
dearly loved
and will always
be sorely missed
..


painting is by Kanchanmala Ghosh, Kolkata

when words become flesh

A scar is what happens when the word is made flesh.
–Leonard Cohen

Accepting my way tossed barbs
wired together disjointed thoughts….
Strung them into sentences
sentencing maudlin creepers
Piggybacking on lightness
of my being to kingdom come…
Life is two faced
At best worst
I go for broke for eternal
Sunshine of mind without unnatural
Tweaking….steadily holding frame
In right mind…
at day’s end
am
a
mere
cliche
holding on to
Dignity

Next Page »