Tuesday, February 19, 2019

Kashmir tanka

soldier trucks
feel their way
through Kashmir fog -
his whistling a tune
turns into a chorus

Tuesday, December 25, 2018

Love Tanka

spend some time
in the quiet
of a full moon...
every moment biting away
words unspoken

how many hours
have you lived
in your life...
death will be on its prowl
once the moon sets

3 Tanka

turning gray
with the trickle of years
a chameleon
hiding amidst the green
of childhood trees


i still see you
in moonlit dreams
you're a flower
in your absence


it rained a lot
yet it looks like it'll rain
a lot more...
you simply smile,
smile away


let a chorus be born
turning into a torrent
of anguish -
streets are getting flooded
with rare resolve

New Year Tanka

this token of love
not yet sullied
by earthly sin-
with great care i hold out
my little dream, just born

A Tanka for Yemen

to her wheelchair
Noran paints
in her inner room

Click on this link



i move on
from sadness to sadness
with my dream:
a window will open
to a pear tree in flowers


who can tame
the beast that lives in man--
a monk
lovingly pats the head
of a temple tiger

[Note-Wat Pa Luangta Bua is a monastery about 200 kilometers west of Bangkok, and here,a daily ritual is observed -- Buddhist monks take their 3-5 year old tigers out on a leash for a walk through the bordering region of Burma. They dote upon their tigers, feed them and celebrate them as their most sacred animal. ]

Friday, October 13, 2017



can we ever be
more closer


lozenge sun
melting into water
her laments


diary page
a butterfly
in November

old cotton tree
shivering in winter
fifteen wasted years

Friday, June 9, 2017

Three Haiku & One tanka

scent of roses
i float back
to my youth


the art of exchanging


a chirpy sparrow
once it enters
it refuses
to exit


college re-union
the vineyard buzzing
with bees


Saturday, December 10, 2016

Winter Tanka

if you need
to live insatiably
you'll need thorns
not leaves, for thorns
have no fear of winter

i see stars
being born from your tears
and wonder how
your guarded grief would steer
our young tomorrow

the glint
in the eyes
of a squirrel--
a bright new day
for the blessed ones

a chorus
of whispers
still haunts--
time never moves
for the saxophone man

Tuesday, November 15, 2016

Would you believe

if i say i can see buds bursting into dreams
and in one blue dream you are gliding through
cloud-ridden moonlight, and when i call
you tell me this is no time for words, then another
bud bursts into a summer sun and i find you
lost in a quiet haze sipping a melon sherbet
i ask you if you have noticed the archaic
fountain where gold-winged butterflies make
their nest and you quip there is hardly a reason
to look for relics as all winged marvels have gone
where falling cherry petals make a blizzard

if i say, since then the dreams have stopped
busting out, since then life has been a foggy path
without end, only a here-and-there glimmer of sun
which i mis-read as golden butterflies, believing my
poem to be the soliloquy of a yearning alchemist
neither is it the sadness of a commonplace poet
but rather a thirsty quest for togetherness

Friday, April 29, 2016

For Prince

You said there is blood in the sky
was that a premonition you said
you knew when it'll rain purple blue
when someone will take you out
from your hide that is made of rainbow
So when the angel came and beckoned
you in the purple rain you forgot about
the song on your lips and looked long
at me were there some words hidden

With meek steps you left as the worst storm
rattled my doors putting off candles because
the blood in the sky had to fall because god
had no reason to heed the call of the million
doves who cried till life went out off a billion
songs Yet its still raining still your voice hasn't
stopped echoing from mountain walls because
an angel called you amidst the purple rain

[ In memory of  Prince Rogers Nelson (1958 - 2016)]

Friday, April 22, 2016

Love Tanka

i can no longer
feel you, either by love
or by reason -
the end of a bridge
fading into the void

why must i become
the falling leaf
of winter -
lovers and flowers
blooming in the roadside

sauntering aimless
without you...yet with you
by my side
---a quick spell of rain
---paints a rainbow

Tuesday, April 19, 2016

Aokigahara - The Suicide Forest

1) near the forest
a dust-worn Toyota
lies abandoned-
a parrot shrieks overhead:
i'm comming, comming, comming...

2) the noose dangles
from a wild tree
a gush of wind
hurries through
deceased leaves

3) he nails his anger
one after the other
into a stolid bark:
you cannot rule the breeze,
neither the fire, nor the rains

4) not even a flower
buds here
to feed butterflies
this stoic world
needs no spring, no autumn

Monday, March 28, 2016


[ An ode to the poetic mind of Pablo Neruda ]

through a jungle
of beliefs-
i run from house to house
chased by a raging bull

how do i
describe you
in words alone-
all the words in me
are 'stolen'

hidden under
a white brimmed hat
i read faces
bricks and lanes
burnt by Santiago sun

when the end came
six and half hours later
i was envisioning
the army searching my house
for a man named 'poetry'

treading on  a planet
snapped from all modes of return
the soil
coloured with blood
of perished revolts
hit counter
html hit counter code