Personal
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Tourists
It was at the first light of lifeThat they took the baby step.And continued to walk alongEven as they slept. Still bright and breezyWere they at the wee hours.Trudged through whileStill learning their powers. Amidst the blossoming yellowBathed, fed the fellows!Then around the noonTheir lives began to bloom. Their gaily souls traced the trails.Still young… Continue reading
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Inner Voice
I said, “I listen to you every time Yet you sound anew on each occasion.” “Some day, I’d sit back and listen to you,” it said. Or, perhaps, it was my assumption. Ever since I’ve yearned for That participating audience. With whom I can discuss All problems and their solutions. Read the complete poem on… Continue reading
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That’s Who I Am
Of all that I did that day, Were things rather in plenty. Breaking with the dawn, for once Had I had this idea, if any… Where my vigilant brain had caught this Wonderful signal through my mental antennae, And, the day had arrived where I could turn stories into pure honey. “Do not confine,” I’d… Continue reading
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The Confessions of Her Pillow
I’m jealous of my own existence. Whatever I have today, it’s because of her; it’s for her. Nothing belongs to me, yet I’m proud of what I have. To this day, and happily counting, I’m her sole counselor. I’ve consoled her on countless occasions. I’ve seen, shared every single dream she’s ever had. I’ve been… Continue reading
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Being Humble
Being Humble Strike here. Gone there. The Kafkaesque nature of The momentary thought Is worthy of being rare. Doing. Redoing. Writing. Wiping. Committing. How else will you otherwise Wayfind that Something? Patience, my friend, Is a costly affair. If it strikes, it’s fair. If it doesn’t, it still isn’t unfair. Failure or pressure. Spark or… Continue reading
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Life, Sort of, Makes Sense!
It must be logic,For we hide carefully our aces. It must be magic,For even a thought can take us places. It must be tragic,For else why would people switch their stances? It must be a mirror,For a few change faces. It must be an accomplishment,For some deal with it in paces. It must be a… Continue reading
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Keep Writing
What is your reason to write? Through this poem, I find if I need one. Continue reading
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Only You
Amongst the notes, she found a poem that, as a folded paper, was tucked inside a notebook. To her surprise, my handwriting looked completely different back then. To my surprise, my writing seemed completely different back then. She thought it was more artistic. I thought it was pretty lame of me to concentrate on rhyming… Continue reading
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Memoir: Mathematics and Me
Probably that is why, in Sanatana Dharma, there weren’t any mainstream subjects. Learning came through exploration as much as observation; through listening as much as doing; and, through all streams of knowledge that flew into this mind from all directions, giving it the influx of the much-needed wisdom. All of our spiritual leaders and Maharshis… Continue reading
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Vultures Around
he vultures that wish to nibble The crumbs of my plight. I wish once again Neither to prove them wrong Nor myself right. For I know that I must Let success speak through my might. Continue reading
The Wordsmith 