Tag Archives: poetry



When the heart is content, and desires nothing more, the soul is calm, without any resentment.

Anxiety falls away from the mind like a waterfall, quickly, mercilessly, violently, leaving calm in its wake.

Life meanders its way through mountains and valleys, flowing silently, gravely, turning into a lifeline for others.


When the heart is content, it accepts more, forgives more, is ready to sacrifice for others.

Anticipation of future doesn’t cause fear, the past is happily stored in the  pages of  mind’s albums.

Life gets easier, everything is no more a battle, winning or losing doesn’t make much difference,

for vanquished and victorious are both your very own.


Monsoon -8


Finally, the sky poured open its heart,

rain falling like an outburst of joy and sorrow.

Making the existence lighter for a restart,

for a better tomorrow.

                Photography Credits Go To Zubin Oommen Ittyerah



If only we could be invisible,

the winds bringing painful memories of the past shall not find us.

Unsettling the calmness of life, with emotions superflous.


If only we were invisible,

the pebbles of memories of losing someone shall not hit us.

Causing ripples in the lake of present, with which we adjust.


Hiding peacefully in the serenity of oblivion, we shall be withering away our lives.

Instead, let’s mourn and pay respect to the souls of people we loved.

Let go and rejoice at the passing away of bitter memories of the past.


Be visible again,

to welcome the breeze of new moments, turning into happy memories.

To welcome the wind which causes waves in the present, writing new stories.

Pre monsoon-4


Monsoon is round the corner, when you can hear  peacocks screaming, first thing in the mornings, instead of cuckoos singing.

When ants work persistently and can be seen rushing to their hills.

When the Sun plays hide and seek throughout the day with the clouds.

When bolt of lightning cracks its whip without any rain.

When winds are stronger and blow away the dark grey clouds.

When all the old leaves have already fallen off and new ones start growing.

When the cracked Earth sizzles upon receiving an abrupt short shower.

When people remember to carry umbrellas to work but forget to bring them back home.

When the farmers scan the sky everyday and hope for the right amount of rain.

Pre monsoon-3


Waiting for the rest of the blooms to bloom,

The tender buds to break out into clusters of petals and sepals.


Delicately shivering in the wet morning breeze,

Attracting bees and butterflies with their faint magnetic fragrance.


Waiting for the rest of the blooms to bloom,

The flowers to outnumber the leaves, the colours to contrast with the greens.


Bunches of reds, whites, pinks, tenderly bowing with their weights.

Intoxicating the passer-by with their sweet scent and beauty.


Waiting for the monsoon, so that the Earth could come alive,

Succeeding in imparting life, which only the magical rain water could give.


Waiting one day at a time, for the dark clouds to loom,  for that abrupt shower,

Turning into  consistent downpour.



Words strung together like exquisite pearls,

Like a beautiful lucky charm for any girl.


Uncomplicated like a string of diamonds,

Simple, sparkling, splendid and uncommon.


Littered around like thousands of shells on a beach,

Hand picked separately, phrased together for each.


Spilling out from a pen, what heart wants to read,

like the very breath that all living so desperately need.


Words weave magic, sometimes the truth, sometimes a web of lies.

For words are words, it is actions with which a person is defined.

Holy haven


Clouds laden with water, douse the fire, set aflame by the Sun.

The holy river receives the rain water, embracing it as its own.

Gently flowing , reflecting the sky, embedded with hot embers.

Dancing, jumping to the chantes , vibrating in the air.

Meditation haven for saints and sages,

tranquility personified from long gone ages.

Rishikesh, name signifies, the one who controls all senses.

Embodiment of all virtues, Lord Vishnu, from where life commences.

                                      Photo Credit Goes To Shalini Prasad