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Come ! Paint my world.

If you are the one,
Come ! Do paint my world.

If you are the one,
Come ! Let me have a good look at you.

If you belong to me,
Come ! Let me share a secret with you.

If you belong to me,
Come ! Let me show you my world.

If you are the one,
Come ! Let me paint you in my hues.

Pic Courtesy: Google


d2's arena said…
Couldn't visit your blog for a long time. I visited tonight and I was happy to realize few things after reading these blogs. I am thankful to you. Few things are there, which I realize but don't get to express like you. Your posts just transform me to "REAL".
Thanks for being a classmate, only after 2007 I searched your name in Google and found that you have a blog.

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I cannot remember my mother,
only sometime in the midst of my play
a tune seems to hover over my playthings,
the tune of some song that she used to
hum while rocking my cradle.

I cannot remember my mother
but when in the early autumn morning
the smell of the shiuli flowers floats in the air,
the scent of the morning service in the
temple comes to me as the scent of my mother.

I cannot remember my mother
only when from bedroom window
I send my eyes into the blue of the distant sky,
I feel that the stillness of my mother's gaze on my face
has spread all over the sky.

~Rabindranath Tagore
Note : This was one of  the earliest poems I read,loved and cherished.


Concealed by dark clouds
You keep shining.
Bright streaks of light
Dazzle me.
Enchant me.
And keep me waiting..
Waiting for you.

Amidst Soul-lessness

There is smoke somewhere. 
I cannot seem to figure out where. 
The lights are here, the music is here.
Has it been home here ?
Perhaps. Maybe when it did not rain.
Or maybe when it rained and it did not matter.
Maybe when I walked alone, smiling to myself. 
Or maybe when I realized I was okay.
Had it been always like this ?

Not really. 
Things clicked, took effort and blood. 
Did I do it ? Or the beasts did ? Maybe we both together,
Played this game. 
Amidst soulful solitude, it was love. 
Maybe appreciation.
Another journey, another dry spell. 
Will it ever be home again ? 

P.S. : Penned at Candies, Bandra on 11th January 2017