The Rainy Season


The Rainy season- A random musing



Like the beautiful  flowers of palash, popularly known as fire of the forest, I was burning . The inner turbulence  like the  upheaval of tides made me rise and fall against the heavy rocks of life.

Had the shore been sandy ,I wished to have laid myself on the shore surrendering to  the splashing waves of a sea,but nonetheless,it was n’t such.It was rocky.

Life isn’t what we dream and wish for! We have to create a path to realize this dream  and then walk on it ,many a times getting pierced by innumberable thorns .

The fragrance which disseminates in the atmosphere is usually of the wild flowers growing on open meadows and hillsides, those which bring freshness in life and also in the monotonous mundaneness. Pruned, I loved watching birds flying in the sky, they seemed to be so happy, free and delighted ,marching towards their goal . Their wings unfettered and whistling to their favourite tunes they sang whenever they wished .

A sense of freedom filled the heart and I wished I could fly thus like the wading birds.

The riot of colours in the evening sky brought more nostalgia  as I walked towards the mound on the top of the mountain. This rainy season, nothing had changed.

I can’t let it die

I can’t let it die

The solitary poetic sigh

Which breathes in minute pauses

Betwixt the gaps of worldly duties and entangled chores

Neither let it suffocate in the fumes of  intoxicating insecurities

Nor allow the pangs of survival and existence wipe the ethereal pastels

Those vernacular treasures fastened securely in caskets of thoughts

Transform as they rise and glow as embers in the sky to twinkle till ages eternal.


Other side !

beneath that blueness does life smile
like the pretty lilies
 enraptured dance
does the rivulet sing
songs of love
can it dissolve the pain
of burning years
which path shall reach to this realm
where pure would be the air
and clear emotions,
O! thee!
 Will thou lead me to other side
 into such heaven ?



Thou as tall as the majestic Everest

thy length can never be measured in yards

thy width expandable as the vast azure

I lose my self in the blueness of thou  ! Krishna

in thy depth is the ecstatic endless ocean

I immerse and submerge

in the sublime waves

to dive deep

and reach the zenith of bliss.


O’ Raga !

O! Raga

the ancient rhythm of my soul, how cautiously you move

infinite waves rise and fall, dancing on

heartfelt tunes

crashing against the world

tis old traditions .. while weeps the soul in a nook

where art thou!

the blissful Raga

can I compose a melody just for you?

in monsoons

wet you with my verse

or soothe you with a lucid song

in summers?

the serene music of nature

what makes the fall smiling

when deciduous trees wither

the serene music of nature

Tis the rhythm of my soul

O Raga!

that beats on a celestial composition.DSCF4636

The pragmatic spirit

the pragmatic spirit
which failed to live as a free bird
pinioned to the ancillary pedestal with bondage,
a pit of darkened sphere
where like a dragon is a holocaust

in the feeble body,
a sunken heart,
fears swing of life
forgoing and abstract
stares at the time pendulum

under the lampshade orange ,
dawned a ray of wisdom
a veneration;
an assimilation of glitches
burns the scared pyre
illuminating the inner luminescence