Simplicity lived and bygone

Bird of same feather


I won’t stand at your grave with white flowers and mourn,
Attend your funeral
Or accept you’re really gone, as long as it takes to sink in


I grew up in a country where Hindus and Muslims
Are more animus than belief
You told me, children to the same father, we’re all the same


You weren’t an educated man, toiled in a factory for wage
Yet finest of open minds
Is how you’ll live, footprints on sand, of a young me.


I might have made fun of you, but in laughter when you said
Men and women – are all there to race
Is the true learning I’ll live with.


Who are you to me? Not a father, brother, uncle, friend
Beyond name or stars you live today
Complete or forsake me – you’ve done both today

I came to know yesterday morning that he passed away. Being a Muslim, he had substantially great learning of Hindu scriptures and had a surprisingly simple explanation of everything. As a young boy, I learnt the true meaning of harmony from him. He was a man of perfectly sound health. Ever since I heard the news, I am just not able to accept it. My beloved uncle, please have my respect, may your simple words illuminate where there is darkness.

I am linking this poem, each stanza written as twitter poems [Read the old post by Samuel here] to Dversepoets OpenLinkNight. Join to read some wonderful poetry here.

Of love, tenderness and little things – 2

After I wrote Of love, tenderness and little things, I always wanted to write the same poem using the narrative of a woman. Here it is. I am linking this poem to OpenLinkNight on DVersepoets. Please join to read some wonderful poetry.

Love Hate

# 1
Walk tip toes and
Wrap that blanket over,
Cuddling on the couch
In cold of night –
I’d know,
Am not alone in my dreams.


Peep out of the newspaper
Make those faces
Funny, ridiculed or upset;
Sipping at the mug of coffee and morning news
Bitter, frothy –
The awful coffee you make,
I don’t really see
Why I relish that every drop of it
Or why that cream lingers on my lips.


Calm afternoon, still as water,
Is my world of Doppler effects
Sharp cry in the neighborhood
Hooting of birds
Stranger down the street,
Very serene –
Why do I love it to be shattered
By you sudden few seconds call?


You haven’t taken me to a theater
In a long time,
You don’t have to –
Perturb me,
Like a pebble does to a quiet lake
Looking at the waves on water
I’d know we can never be apart.

P.S. – Doppler effect is the phenomenon of changing frequency for moving sounds. Read here if you are interested.

Photo Credits: Reetam Banerjee

The man in red coat and blue pants

I am sharing this poem to DVersePoets OpenLinkNight. where we have a new poet, Anthony, greeting us all. Following his suggestion, I wanted to write about some common objects in my bedroom. Once you read through, you will find how they are so special. Join OpenLinkNight to read some amazing poetry from poets all over the world here.


A red octopus
At peace with the duck that sings lullaby
Or a green tortoise,
A grey elephant
– Quite a colony together
Friendly neighborhood
They are

The ambulance, the white cooper
A man on a unicycle
Donald duck
Hide, jump crash into one other
The man lost a leg,
– The ambulance a wheel
Once a table clock, now
Lost its second hand

A lot of making and breaking
Tiny little fun
Balloon throwing
In a tiny red throne
– The queen takes up rein of her kingdom
A lot go into hiding,
Under bed, cupboard

I watch my child at play
And part of me
Sport a false moustache
And ride the unicycle in red coat and blue pants,
A white hair or two, underneath the hat
Age is a beautiful watch that never stops
– Yet going back in time is possible,
As a father, I like to believe.

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Where is my verse?


From Mondays PubTalk, Brian got me thinking – “We don’t read and write poetry because it’s cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race.” I asked myself – where is my verse? I didn’t have an answer. I searched for an answer for almost two days. The answer was hidden in the clue given on the same post. Now I am linking this poem to Dversepoets OpenLinkNight. You can read about all the other wonderful poetry from this link.

The bread I earn?
– Engineering
A noble profession? – yes
Pays bills, debts.

Conspiracy lives in my skin
Pays in a time of
Shrewdness, the king
Wins success, apt.

A gentle lover and father at home,
Has a tear at the corner of eyes
Easy for the mirror to miss
Yet, as real as morning dew.

Read about inequalities, in leisure
Fancy a revolution, sometimes
Dream about a perfect world, in a couch
Is not real enough.

Life of a bubble, in shell of mollusc
We live thousand verses everyday
Very few gets penned; We wear
As eternal, proud, tears of pearl

Top post on, the community of Indian Bloggers

Love me, not

small banner

Don’t like black as a colour
On the canvas,
Can you not be mornings?
Or, any other colour?
Orange, yellow, green –

Smoke follows a pattern
Slithers from light to darkness,
Nocturnal, trapped
As you quite are,
Must know that by now.

Don’t sulk, don’t run away
You aren’t losing
Or, winning either-
A lonely, day person as you may be,
But there is no race after all,
Are your judgements clouded?

Lips entwine, wet each other
Churn your stimulus, yes-
Clandestine lovers as you like to believe,
Worries don’t really fade,
You take another step towards oblivion.

To the end, very end – a life in ashes
Waits for us all,
You need to decide,
If you wish to treasure
The walk home to your children,
Or grave.

Think again, think again
Every moment has a word
But frustration,
You just have to find it.

Love me,not

Love me,not

A bit of social thought tonight. I am linking this poem to dversepoets, open link night – week 128. Please join to read some wonderful poetry from contemporary writers all over the world.

Photo Credits: Reetam Banerjee

Those hands on mine

Those hands on mine,
In sadness or fear
Continually poignant,
Is and will be,
Yet no one admits.

“You say you write, and
Not a word about me?”
I smile, “I will”
“So you say-
Only words,
You are”,
And she turns away.

I look at the still water,
Fingers play at the surface
Drawing happiness
Thoughts beget thoughts
Not words.

Time flies, as if
They have wings,
The petals laid on the bed
On the wedding night
Are long gone,
Promises made
Are torn, thrown away.

Mist dwells on the glass,
Tantrums rise
Like tempest,
Fuses into
A cherished morning
Words scribbled on paper,
Become trifles,
Not a verse.

She gazes at stars,
Almost endlessly
Or so she says
When I am away,
I search for the colours of sky,
“There isn’t any”
She reminds me.

We steal a look
At each other,
All we do is watch
Our child at play, and
Blessing, completeness
And chaos
Become life.

There remains an ode
To be written,
She doesn’t nudge
Nor do I say anything,
Love is a word
That has to be lived
Not spelt.

Just Us

My wife has said so many times, ‘What good a writer are you if you don’t write about us? I never did, before today. In another two weeks, I am completing 5 years of our togetherness, so I wanted to do something special for her and ended up writing this. I am linking this poem to dversepoets OpenLinkNight-127. Do participate and read some wonderful poetry.