The Joy of Giving

The joy is in giving
For what else is prosperity?
The purpose is to provide
For what else do we own?

Smile that I bring
The blessing that I gain 
I reap the harvest
Of the seeds that I have sown

For this day we celebrate
The greatest giver
Not the conqueror of the world
But the conqueror of the very own

let’s revel on the platter of love
for there is joy in being together 
what taste is the feast, 
that is had alone


#HappyOnam

Moving road stretch

The moving road
take the swaying trees along
I watch rooted
Through the unmoving window
of the speeding car 
And a racing mind

I watch 
As they move past
Behind, to the past
To the road I travelled
On this speeding car
And a wishful heart

I watch
the views I had
and the destinations 
I have travelled beyond
On this speeding car
And the ambitious eyes

There, I know
They move past
My previous me
Little recognising the different me
Peering through the stained windows
Of this speeding car 
And the turbulent mind

That’s when I see
I am the road
Stretching across the past
And now the present
Ever changing, yet static
beyond the changeless window
And the transient mind

I realise 
As far I travel
I am still here
Still yearning 
for the place of rest
Beyond this speeding car
In the restive mind

The moon I could touch

On the dark side of the moon
If there was a moon
I could touch
Would I feel the rock
Or the shining affection

As a touch down
On the desolate surface 
Would I seek the rocks
Or the serene connection

On the side which is dark
Perpetually in the night
Would I flash the first light
And see my own reflection

A part of me stays there
Breathing, where there is no air
Feeling for you from here 
And you looking up at me from there

The sky, raindrop and flower

हूँ अलग 
है मुझे रिझाना 
है सृष्टि 
को आगे बढ़ाना 

है रंग अलग
सब पसंद करते हैं 
शायद इसीलिए 
मुझे तोड़ लेते हैं 

दिखता हूँ,
क्योंकि अलग हूँ
अगर वो हरा ना होता 
तो मैं लाल, कैसे होता 

मेरा लाल रंग 
वो हरा, वो नीला,
सावन की बारिश में 
है सब कुछ सबसे मिला

A shop of me

A shop
of mine
will obviously
be selling
me

the wares it keeps
may be anything
from coffee beans
to leave of tea

they may have
their flavour
which people flock to buy
but the shop
will have the flavour of me

it’s not
the transaction
neither the sale
that binds
the buyer
and me

it’s
what we create
in the confluence
filled with
the essence
of me

so it’s not
the wares I sell
I essentially
sit on the counter
an sell
me