The sculpture is being made

New placenew beginnings a blank new slatethe sun is lateit’s morning not yetbut I am wide awakeIts a fresh patha new trailthe one, I need to blaze every stumble taught a lessonevery fall a chisel strokethis sculpture is being madethe future is blurred but in my mind it’s clearit’s for me to create

Ghost with long hands

Saw a ghostWho had long handsI wondered what use were theyWhat would it touch It would seep through the wallsGlide through the doorsMelt through allWithout a worry as such But with such long handsIt felt awkwardWith them danglingWith no way to feel or touch It was happy oneBut the long handsScared a few a littleAndContinue reading “Ghost with long hands”

Tera mera rang

रंग होतुमसे भरागुलाबी, पीला और लाल संग होअपना हमेशाहर पल, हर साँस, हर हाल ढंग होतुममें ढलाबस तुम्हारा एहसास, तुम्हारा ख़याल भंग होसब बैरबस हो रंग, ना कोई मलाल रंग होना तेरा, ना मेराबस गुलाबी, पीला और लाल

My worn out Shoes

My worn out shoesholds many memoriesEmbedded and buriedDeep within its weary sole Witness and participantIn those resolute and thoughtful stepsOf the many tough treksAnd some easy strolls Scrapping the groundRaising the dustTo propel me forwardto play my rightful role It lays tatteredWounded and batteredWith Splayed stitchesAnd some ghastly holes Yet comfortableIn a neat fitMoulding andContinue reading “My worn out Shoes”

Achu – The Mahout

My father turns 84. He celebrates the thousand full moons. He had a childhood dream of becoming a Mahout. He celebrates his 84th birthday with his wife who turns 75. AchuThe young MahoutIs all of 84 For this young heartThe ageIs just a mere score Bathed freshIn milky light of thousand moonsHe is up forContinue reading “Achu – The Mahout”