Sunday, 29 September 2013


     Innocent face
 Crooked intentions
A wolf in saffron garb.

     Under the scalpel
  to fix crooked nose
bolster her filmi career.

Crooked line
rising on graph
dwindling fortunes

For : Haiku Heights

Stars and the moon

The Sandman by Catrin Welz-Stein
Picture courtesy : Catrin Welz-Stein.

The celestial jewels
up in the black blanket
strewn , shone brightly.
Inviting , teasing me
to adorn my self.

I rubbed the magic lamp
and the genie plucked my villa
and lo! I was floating
in the sea of clouds.

The crescent moon 
sat snugly around my neck
The stars fitted on my tiara
and embellished my gown.

The Princess of galaxy
I sped on my weightlessness.
A comet came hurtling at me
scared , I woke up in my bed. 

For : dVerse - Poets Club

The Untrodden Path

The branches intertwined
kissing each other
remind of you and me.

The smoke filled clouds
raging against each other
remind of you and me

The hard stone steps
on which we ran together
our fingers intertwined
our lips raring to meet.
the occasional outbursts
settled at the edge of the pathway.
remind of you and me.

Our laughter echoed through the vale
as our spirits plunged down ,
only to rise ,  unseen to the cruel world.

for : The Mag

Saturday, 28 September 2013


God is omnipresent 
care for each child
He created a mother.

Brave and strong
Epitome of sacrifice
She , Mother India.

She cradles baby
hand that rocks
rules the world.

Worshipped , Revered
Maa Durga , Laxmi ,Saraswati
Girl-child aborted or raped.

For : Haiku Heights

running race.


This weekend your post should begin with, ’5..4..3..2..1..’

'5..4..3..2..1..'    go and the sound of the clap-board fell on my ears and my feet sprung into action.

My gaze was alternating between  the two white parallel lines that I was sandwiched in , lest I waver and enter into another's territory , to get disqualified and the girl who was  a few paces ahead of me.

The spectators were cheering , 'faster ...faster.....  but I failed to realize for whom they were rooting. 

I made it to the finish line in the second place. I saw the teachers and spectators, alike , applauding the winner while I got a lukewarm response. Their partial indifference had a stinging effect on my pride and ego and this incident was boldly etched in my tender mind.I decided never to participate in a race.

But time is a great healer. I did not forget the incident but it certainly paled in comparison with time. I did participate in sports events but never could experience the thrill of the the thunderous roar of applause reserved for a winner.

A decade later ............

With increasing age and the experiences that came along as added baggage with it , life became a never-ending rat-race. Race was not just run on the school grounds but the long tracks of life. I was sucked into the vicious circle , unknowingly and unwillingly. But a subtle difference noticed was that the winner did not have the luxury of enjoying and basking in its halo as the thorns of competition and the insecurity of being replaced from the numero uno position always weighed down on the shoulders.  The lesser lucky mortals who missed the crown by a whisker were not lionhearted to join in the celebrations of applause wholeheartedly but donned a mask of fake smiles, and just waited for a slip to show-up to pull the carpet under the feet of the winner. The whole scenario was not encouraging.

Half-a decade later............

I decided wisely and at an appropriate time to hang up my boots. Nay, not conceded defeat but graciously , knowingly and willingly opted out of the life's rate-race to continue albeit eliminating competition and its associated ills. Now I am at peace with myself , no longer have to prove to the world and have shed the garb of expectation of a certificate or a medal.

I no longer have to run in the confined parameters of the designed tracks , adhering to the rules of the games or cast anxious glances at the person ahead of me or take pride, in the number of people who are trailing behind me. But this transformation was not overnight but was a continuous and gradual process , where I burnt the midnight  lamp to think and re-think of my step , a step that would take me up the ladder or push me down into the abyss of darkness when I read the wise words of J.Krishnamurti , ' Real learning comes about when the competitive spirit has ceased.'  

Being older and wiser I agree to Franklin D.Roosevelt - 'Competition has been shown to be useful up to a certain point and no further , but cooperation , which is the thing we must strive for today , begins where competition leaves off'.

Dear readers , what are your views? Do you agree with me?

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda


      My bed-mate
absorbs tears, dreams
 comforting cushion.

Childhood sleep-overs
    a bygone era.

For : Haiku Heights

Friday, 27 September 2013


The green festoons flutter in October
to the tune of the chill breeze.
So happy with Nature, what doth thy utter? 
I captured this moment on my lens to freeze.

Many misty morning, 
with woollens on, I causally tread.
skeletal frame, bare standing 
yellow carpet, beneath,  spread.

I sat on the bench wooden,
dry leaves at my feet rustling
with a heavy heart laden
I avoided them crushing.

The worker with his broom long
gathered the debris dry 
with a whistle on his lips and a song
my eyes wished for a cry.

He set the heap on fire
the flames burnt the pyre
reduced to ashes black
As I turned back

On a final depart
the tree gracious
To mankind , a lesson impart
exuded warmth, generous.


The tree with its leaves and flowers is a living symbol of sacrifice , always giving  to mankind and in death , it burns to give warmth to the atmosphere and making way for new leaves to sprout, continuing the cycle of rejuvenation. 

For : PoetryJam

Thursday, 26 September 2013


Yellow metal
skyrocketing price
demand continues.

Speech is silver 
Silence is gold.
Talk or not to talk?

Golden chance
lost opportunity
Knock again.

For : Haiku Heights

Wednesday, 25 September 2013


Giddy feeling
salt-less diet.

Protest against British
Bapu marched to Dandi
to make salt.

Lime, salt, sugar
Cool lemonade
beat the heat.

For : Haiku Heights

Tuesday, 24 September 2013


      brick of trust
foundation of love
     is my home

  Flanked by books
internet connection
   cozy is my den

      Den is empty
   King is on prowl
animals take shelter.

For : Haiku Heights


The Moth and the Lamp, Cesar Santos 

The light of learning

has cast its spell on me.

Pride has been pruned away,

Ego has been shed off,

Jealousy and vanity charred.

Green is the prosperity of mind.

My spirits feel free and light,

sprouted the wings of enlightenment,

Levitating above the ground realities.

I have forsaken the velvet slipper

of wealth and accumulation. 

Opened the windows of mind.

My soul is cleansed

I have attained Nirvana.

For : Magpietales - MAG 187

Monday, 23 September 2013


increases strides
to reach the line
Gold medal in sight.

She strives hard 
to educate son
IIT dreams.

Plough stuck
farmer strives hard  
gets pot of gold.

For : Haiku Heights

If only you were here

prompt is provided by Kajal Kapur of Rainbow Hues. The prompt:

If only you were here

The stars would have been brighter
The honey biscuits would taste sweeter
The flitting butterflies would look more colourful
you beti would have loved to be under your eyes, watchful
                                       If only you were here.

I wouldn't talk to my shadow
Our patch of green wouldn't be fallow
The world wouldn't dare
at your princess stare
                                     If only you were here.

I would be so care-free
Together we would nurture our tree
You would have been a proud father
to see the medals gather.
                                      If only you were here.

But you are not with us
But you alive in our hearts
we miss you a lot
                                     If only we could come over there.


If only you were here...........

prompt is provided by Kajal Kapur of Rainbow Hues. The prompt:

If only you were here

Today Simran wanted to stay out till 11 in the night for her friend’s party. I 

refused permission and she said that I was being a Victorian age mom. She 

cried and shut herself in her room.  Rajesh , if only you were here, things 

would have been very different. I need you in these delicate situations.

Mom no longer has faith in me. All my friends will be enjoying the party except me.

 Their parents do not object. Papa, if only you were here, things would be better.

 Tell God that your princess misses you a lot.  Come back.




  Cooks noiselessly
   giveaway clue
aroma of baked cake.

    Blank expressions
   no emotional clues
evil designs in her mind?

No clue of directions
Aha ! the North Star.
   Head to south.

For : Haiku Heights.

Sunday, 22 September 2013


  blue sky
black clouds 
rainbow hues.

Black and white photo
colourful memories
of childhood days.

Wrinkled skin.
Black hair
Kaali mehndi in closet.

 For : Haiku Heights



weekend your post should begin with, And before I knew it, I had hit ‘Send’.

And  before I knew it, I had hit 'Send' button . I had typed out my leave letter, on my lap-top ,and the reasons for my absence from work. I immediately received a message on my cell-phone from Ananya Joshi, my HR Manager asking if I needed any help.

The Company car driver opened the door for me. The Yeshwantrao Chavan Highway is a boon to travel faster between Mumbai and Pune and vice-versa.
The scenic beauty along the highway is worth capturing on camera but right now my frame of mind was not focussed on the Nature's bounty but was a race against time to reach Mumbai to be with appa and amma.
Appa opened the door on the first ring of the bell. I noticed Amma with red swollen eyes and suppressed sobs sitting on the sofa. 

"Kaveri, stop crying" said appa. It was more of a command than a request.

I was confused and bewildered. 

"Appa, you said that there is a death in our extended family." It was a disguised question , imploring him to tell me of the deceased person's identity. Why were they keeping it under wraps?

Appa put his arm around my shoulders and dug his fingers and tightened the grip on my arm. I was taken aback by his physical intimacy .

"Your biological father expired today. We have to attend his funeral", said he.

My head spun and my mouth felt dry. I released myself from my appa's grip and sat down on the sofa with a thud.  

My biological father was a drunkard who abused his wife regularly and after my birth, the physical torments increased as he wanted a male progeny and wished to give me away to an orphanage. And in a fit of anger he hit her on her head. She succumbed to the injuries and the news was splashed across in the print media. I was three months old and placed under the care of a social organisation. Amma and Appa approached the social workers and thus I was adopted when my biological father gave up his rights on me. After my adoption they shifted to Mumbai from the city of Nasik to escape the media and social glare and kept the adoption, a secret from one and all including me. My biological father was given rigorous  imprisonment of 14 years and  on completion of his term he was a reformed man and returned to teaching. He kept in touch with Appa.

Just a day ago, he died due to cancer. 

After hearing the entire story , I asked Appa what was expected of me in the light of my new-found status.

We attended his funeral and returned to Mumbai the same day. Amma was still crying. I now realised the real reason behind her cries. I cupped my palms around her chin , wiped her tears and said , "Amma , you and Appa are my only parents and will always be. I don't care whether I am adopted or your biological child. You both treated me as your own and I reciprocate it."

I retired to my room after saying good-night to them. I sat on the window-sill as I had sat in my childhood days , stared at the stars and complained with tears in my little eyes that fate had been unkind to me. I have suddenly felt grown-up. Not because I am a score and three years old but all the rantings of the growing up years suddenly felt trivial and silly. Appa's strict upbringing and amma's worry to be home before sunset , the deadlines and dress code imposed upon me , makes me 'see' their love and care. Appa spared no pains when it came to education but was adamant when I decided to join the Company's branch for training and subsequent absorption at Pune. 

Peeling off the jaundiced layer of filament that has set on my eyes ,  I am now seeing things with a new perspective. I am now valuing and respecting their decision to adopt a murderer's child. If I hadn't found a loving home here , I would be languishing in an orphanage bereft of love and security. Now  as I look at the stars in the serene night , I have tears in my eyes to thank my fate. How lucky am I!

I said a silent prayer to my biological mother. May her soul rest in peace.

I started typing on my lap-top. I had a last look at it and with a satisfied smile I took a deep breath and before I knew it, I had hit 'Send' button.

I had informed Ananya Joshi about my decision to move to Mumbai and request for a transfer. I will stay with amma and appa to bask in their love , care and admiration.

This is a fictional story and any resemblance to real life story is pure coincidence. 

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda

Saturday, 21 September 2013


On a sunny Sunday
people go to Church
   He goes to jail.

   He goes to jail
   for social work
to be one with God.

(We know a person in Chennai who does not go to Church to offer prayers but to the jail
to do social work. Today I remembered this and my way of saluting him)

         having brunch
family around the table
discuss week gone by.

   All seven days
delivery boy works.
Enjoy Sunday paper.

For : Haiku Heights

Friday, 20 September 2013


footprints in snow
Is it Yeti?
Myth or reality?

Dilapidated  haveli
ghost seeks revenge
of the royal family

Of the royal family
caretaker impersonates 
wants to usurp haveli.

For : Haiku Heights