What love means to me


What love means to me

Is something that moves

And stays with me alone

The love that I know of

Is but a small fraction of

A great, encompassing entity.


It’s an impulse that suspends

Other thoughts and reasons

It’s beyond the pale of ordinariness

Yet, thrives and accomplishes

In our ordinary, common lives.


Shining like a star, it shows

The way out of inner darkness

It fills my heart and soul

And the spirit within

With overflowing joy.


Love makes me cry

For no reason at times

It inspires to smile

And pushes me to get

A smile in response.


It binds me to others’ lives

Excludes malice and prejudice

Removes ego and self-consciousness

Love to me, is the driving force

Behind my strength, my integrity.


A life without love

Is a shell without spark

A land gone wasted.

It’s the breath of existence

Vital source of spiritual subsistence.




What love means to me

In a crowded room

The long wait for a flight
In a crowded room.
Present vanishes.
Self insulated.
Noise fades,
Mind rises,

Travels backwards,
Forward at will

The beauty of the places,
People and things,
The difference,
The milieu,
The time,

The greetings unbidden,
Smiles, the curtsey
The nods, wishes
“Be back soon”
“Love you so”
“Miss you.”

Summer-fest on the tree-lined lane.
Oils, watercolors, filigree,
Food, bonhomie, drinks.
‘Water for the elephants’
‘Inheritors of loss’
Book clubs.

John and Kim, family friends.
Love of dresses, colors,
Indian ways, Namaste,
Quiet quintessence,
Lotus eyed looks,
Radiant eats.

Home again
To love, to live
To breathe in the sea,
The mountains, sage-like.
Innocent, ignorant, enlightened
Masses, their patience unduly exploited.

The conscious
Hovers, searches
For a meeting point
Between the past, future,
Love, hate, contempt, praise
Looking for harmony in a crowded room.

Lines: 48

In a crowded room



Voices surround me in a thousand ways

Some melodious, some melodramatic

Some reach out-touch a chord

Deep down in my heart

Urging me to keep in touch

To focus, to tell all.


Dawn is dotted too with bird song

Sounds at different levels, persistent,

Persuasive to get me out

Of the unnecessary languor

To move, to love, to touch and hear

And to talk, free of rancor.


Some tense me and some tease

And thrill, for, life is indefinable

Nor straight jacketed

In voices lightly dark, dark and bright

Some strange and muffled

Yet differently reflected


Voices in nature fill

The world of men and matters

And creatures not all known.

Voice- a boundary of thin chords

Between now, never and ever

Gets slowly crucibled


Into an inner sound of silence

Penetrating, pulsating, permeating

An inexplicably ennobling Voice.


The Scent of Wonder

The eldest son
All the way from
(The last of the continents)
came to perform
the last rites
of his father
who died a week
before in India.

The day was full
of events big and small.
The dead man’s memory
hung like a veil
of wood smoke on
one and all.

The boy
met some relatives
long lost absentees
of vague memories,
of bygone years.
The melting distance
in deep affectionate bonds.

The scent of wonder
In the heart of a loner.

At the end of the day,
the ceremony over and goodbyes said,
we returned to our places
Speeding home in blackened coaches
Crossed the clogged bridges
Passed some muddy rivers

Saw some sprawling solitary hills
And speeding leaf-heavy trees
Blooming nameless
Flowers and forests,
Kites flying in perfect groups
Ruffle of white feathers.

Crowded compartments
Unreserved travelers
Standing in the aisles
In groups and single files
The milling crowds
strange faces
unknown destinations.

Beautiful village belles
Handsome males
Tall dark cool devils
The old leaning on young shoulders
The children in mothers’ laps.

The scent of wonder
Here and yonder

Squatting huts
The poor inhabitants
Factory smoke
Industrial waste

All a part of
A peculiar paradise.

The scent of wonder
Now and ever.

The Scent of Wonder


A word of praise makes the day

for those within the world’s way.

But for those whose conscience never

sways, its happy days forever.


A rose blooms and withers

not to be coveted or for praise,

none can take its beauty or grace

in nature it breathes and in it dies.


Human beings with greater tasks

must of need shed presumption and prejudice.

Its only when petty or self-conscious

Praise or malice affects.


Angelic kisses

Angelic Kisses


In the white wilderness of sand and stone

the dark river glistens under the faint

gleam of a pale crescent moon.


In the frightening flicker of thick green

a single ray of shining sun stirs the bush

and pierces the gloom.


In the vast wideness of the infinite sea

a lone bird flies from far horizon

signals the sailor of a safe harbor.


In my own endless battle between truth

and illusion, an occasional spark of

insight enlivens me to the gossamer


touch of delicate, delicious angelic kisses.


Angelic kisses

The Second Skin


I grew a second skin.

Now I am thick skinned.

Nothing disturbs and none

Can have me affected.


It’s a kind of life suspended

I live, which by me is inspired.

Emotions and thoughts vanished.

I take in all and by all received.


No losers here and no winners

A terrain flat, no ups and downs.

All’s equal and all’s fine.

Faces known and unknown


To me make no difference

Is it a short cut to nirvana?

If it is, I have crossed the odds

And lost myself in the skies.


The Second Skin