yellow chamomile and crimson roses

Summer Sundays:
colossal newspapers supped with filter coffees
and bland stippled biscuits in rustling plastic wrappers of yellow and red.

lugging grocery bags tipped with tubs of chocolate ice cream 

from the buy-one-get-one-free section of the freezer

rushed up lunch scenes followed by racing to the railway station
with bated breath to catch the 2 pm train.
 

make an apologetic late entry to the music class
stretch your vocal cords perched on flimsy plastic chairs
take a short break to sip warm tea from cheap paper cups

trudge back home for late evening dinners
after picking up a fruit or two
and a bunch of bright yellow chamomile and crimson roses from roadside vendors.
.

#karkuzhali
18.05.2020

In memoriam of the final days of Appa - my friend, guide, philosopher, and everything under the sun


Time is a mimic
that borrows my mood,
takes over my mind
and blends into the ambience
on the hospital bed.
It drips down the tube,
trickles into my veins,
dragging my breath
deep into the pit
of my stomach
and rises up
in deep shudders.
.

#Karkuzhali #otd
20.04.2019

Love is a catchy tune and swingy number

those chance encounters
like sighting a bright-plumed kingfisher
on a tree stump near the concrete rubble -
followed by
repeat modes that are perfectly timed.


smoothen and mollify
life’s sharp corners jutting like the edges of a steel sink
that jab the flesh into sharp cries
every time I pass by.


the lip hums and croons
a string of words
turning them a favourite tune first
and then, a haunting melody. 


on bright summer grasslands, lithe mind stretches
into delightful grasshopper jives and somersaults. 


love-struck heart, puffed up like a fluffy omelette -
gambols high into the blue sky, misses a quick beat,
and lands a little farther away
near the gurgling water fountain
and that fragrant bush of white jasmines.
.
#karkuzhali
23.04.2020

The half-moon is a transporter…


A white ceramic bowl brimming with nothing
Yet filled with everything the heart seeks

The lucent moon floats in my private sky
Lugging a teacup of ardent thoughts

Bobbing amid the translucent cotton cloud waves
It cruises the night blue ocean -

Crosses my end, reaches beyond
Gently dashes your edge of the bank

A quick swirl and dainty twirl
The half-moon spills out my heart

Swiftly turn that page over
Bend down, pick it up and take a sip

#karkuzhali
03.05.2020

Keepsake lessons of life


moments of truth –
weathered shells
bestrewn on the
sandy beach of life,
scattered one at a time
as life inched by.


moments of truth –
inaction masked as serenity
apathy disguised as patience
stand aloof and distant
spurn the yearning heart

outstretched hands
without offering succour.


moments of truth –
bend, pick, turn over
pick, check, mull over
bend and gather
pick and drop
one shell at a time
into mind’s mason jar.


moments of truth –
descend gently and
settle with a thud,
sunken treasure chests
hit the ocean floor and
stay entrenched forever.


moments of truth –
from time to time
hold each shell in the palm,
browse and riffle through
to glean and gain
insight, acuity and nous.


moments of truth –
precious keepsake lessons
life's beacons of wisdom
map the path of action
the trajectory of life
in the days to come by.



#karkuzhali
08.05.2020

Greyed out night skies

 

Saturdays
stretch into lazy brunches
stuffy summer naps
that end in
insipid household errands
and greyed out night skies


#poetry #saturday #night #sky