Musings

  The Sun Blazing, dazzling… Draining, blistering, scorching Relentlessly, furiously, mercilessly – Stranger to Recess!   Attire Lightweight, understated Comforting, shielding, resisting the heat Gently, elegantly, effortlessly – Palette of monochrome magic!   Birds Parched, tree-bound Watching, waiting, appreciating Patiently, gratefully – Seekers of kindness…   Gulmohar Vibrant, beaming Canopying, adorning, laying – Abundantly, beautifully, A carpet of blossoms…   Mango Pulpy, versatile Blending, pleasing, enchanting Deliciously, delightfully – The transience of sweetness!   Perspiration Clingy, unshakeable Dripping, drenching, soaking Constantly, copiously, indefatigably - Fiercely loyal companion!   Air Conditioner Fancy, indispensable Filtering, regulating, cooling Efficiently, silently – Civilisation defined!    

  My favourite shoes took me one day to my favourite destination, Wanderlust having stirred my soul for an imminent resurrection! With my dearly-bought shoes off, came the real joy – Aiming for a natural pedicure was merely a ploy… The sand healed my feet that have hardly ever trodden bare, I sank, I tripped but never got hurt – nature catching me each time with care. As I tried to grasp the grains of sand with the toughest grip, Like my short-lived Insta-story, I watched it through my fingers slip…                                                                                ...

  In the Land of the Veiled Looking Glass, there sat by the corner a little girl in a daze, Shunned by the world for her fair and just ways. A little girl named Integrity. She sat amidst a close-knit clique, Their methods truly novel and chic, The cunning Decepticons. Not a scribble or a scratch on her desk all blank, Integrity went on her quest for Grades, with even her pockets empty, her stationery visible to all, her pouch crystal clear as her heart. She never did borrow and seldom got the chance to talk. It is said that she even got a ‘zero’ once, Only to bounce back from her fall. Drawing sniggers and sneers from the cunning Decepticons. The Decepticons who took great pride in evading the Watchful Eyes guarding the Realm of Grades. Even with all their tricks and lies, the Decepticons got caught or managed to thrive at times, But never did they dine with the lonesome Integrity. Integrity, who always wished to unveil the Looking Glass – So she cou...

  Our timeless treasures   The lonely, slumbering attic was awakened after decades, As I revisited my modest museum – no need for tickets! The darkness took me back to memories of a power-cut – Spotting a lantern – my fingers gently shook off the dust. My love flickered for a while, like the flame it used to encase. What was once indispensable to dispel the darkness – in a museum of artefacts, has found its place.   My birthday gifts and school prizes were carefully tucked away on shelves. My first dictionary, my precious encyclopedia, my over-used thesaurus – Were the building blocks of an eager learner, Who owns a smartphone today!   How easy it is to take a picture today and store it in virtual space – But my eyes welled up as I grabbed a photo album – the forgotten times it helped to trace. From negatives to a dark room, each picture had quite a journey – My favourite pastime was to arrange them all, And relive the moments – po...

  When my eyes grow tired of the glitz of social media, I look up, and discover, what, to many, is mere trivia – The tireless crow carrying twigs to the tall tree, For fledglings yet unborn – the nest must be ready. My nest, I noticed, was in need of a facelift, The bare wall, I adorned, with old pictures, framed and spiffed! A much-needed de-cluttering, and piling and stacking later, Even the critic in me agreed – my nest, indeed looked better!   Charcoal sticks glided effortlessly over my canvas affixed to the easel clamp, As my brush-strokes brought to life Simon and Garfunkel’s ‘Narrow streets of cobblestone ‘Neath the halo of a street lamp…’   In languages, foreign and vernacular, In themes of love, peace, sorrow or languor, Many words echo in my head, Of songs I have heard and tales I have read, Such that I pour my heart out in diaries guarded like treasure – My angst, my fears, my inner turmoil – vented out in good measure … ...