It was the night of a year-end. We were on the road in San Francisco, showing a New Yorker friend this city in night. Between the ocean and the sky there was no gap- they both were tucked in a blanket of fog. The city was so silent that we could hear our breath.
Continue reading “Youth: A note”
In so many colors life happens,
but memory has always the color
of the hour when the sun
kisses a marigold,
asleep. Continue reading “Xanthic”
I can tell you what I have learnt till now,
that womanhood comes with a list,
a list that people made for you when
you were secure and warm in your mother’s womb,
and from then..
as long as you live, you burn that unending list
in every forest fire that tries to crack open
a crimson gash in your world. Continue reading “Womanhood”
Our neighbor, tall and smiling and generous, the
wife of one and mother of three, is sick. I did not
know it until I saw her in the garden, plucking
white jasmines for all gods she kept in her shrine,
beside that her long hair was short, and her skin
pale as yesterday’s old flowers, her forehead
without the big round vermilion dot. Nothing unusual
in her voice when she, in her regular cheerful tone,
asked me to visit for lunch. Continue reading “Vermilion”
This morning you realized
that your mind is as ubiquitous
as the deeper blue sky
you both are the poems
that the wind writes
from close and far Continue reading “Ubiquitous”
“The truth is not always beautiful, nor beautiful words the truth.” ― Lao Tzu
I read the way a deer might run,
to save her life.
I write that way too. Continue reading “Truths”
Someone once asked me if the valley was made of Silicon or silicone.
Not really. The valley is made of ideas, ideas that change the world. Change that grows on us.
Sometimes the world wants to look large on a small browser window, then it happily shrinks within mobile applications. Keyboards go virtual. People make friendship with each other without real meetings. People create their versions on different platforms to find like-minded acquaintances. On road one day I find self-driving cars within a few feet. Continue reading “Silicon Valley and Sourdough”
I have some favorite spots by the ocean. Many times I follow those ocean side trails or just sit up-close to watch waves playfully hitting the rocks. Pacific here is not calm, but truly magical after the rain. The waves fall, break, spread their water swiftly, withdraw and fall again, like the entire process is in harmony. Continue reading “Rhythm”
Places that no longer
exist call you at times.
That’s how you dream of
foggy mountains on
a warm afternoon,
and long for that
neon-lit palace from
the buried slants. Continue reading “Quivering”
Arrange the books in alphabetical order. Wipe them once a week.
When you are done, touch them again, tell them you adore nothing else.
Water your plants. Throw away every bit of dirt from their body.
And while you do that, stare at those raindrops on the windowpane.
Cherish rain even though it covers your shoes with mud. Continue reading “Perfectionist”