Writing
-
The ecstasy of possibility
This womanCaptured on PolaroidFloating in a sepia dream Her voice is a fresh new place on a rainy dayFlickering warmth of a fireplace, bouncing off cheeks flush with whisky Shape shifting goddessan angels voice, effortless in presence Smokes and mirrorsA being complex And impossible to guess
-
Marigolds in the summer of 90
When blue skies would roll into woven grey You’d look up and say ” There’s going to be rain tonight!!” Me and seven seas from across, hope That the weather in central is also the same Optimistic and ever eager What I wouldn’t do To go back into monsoon of 90’s Several lifetimes, disappear in a blink I am not ready for goodbyes of ‘until later’ I see you nurturing marigolds Wearing old t-shirt and shorts Tending, so I wake…
-
Love secrets
Love Is a language We are still learning Good love Is rare scripts A secret, known to few
-
Gap year travel – Ode to Pakse
A love letter To who I was when I was in you, Pakse — Those days, serpent-ing the roads I soaked in the worlds colours Till they were all inside of me Dissolving the concept of time The beginnings of not yet friendships We drifted and glided like soft mist All of us, everything Present Unconstrained It was enough, the walk on dirt roads, Pebbles hot and sharp, marking their presence through rapidly wearing shoes Walking across rice fields, diving…
-
Ideas as a multiplier of execution
Idea’s by themselves aren’t interesting. It is the execution that’s the deal maker to any idea – good, bad or average. Derek Sivers has a great way of explaining this: Let’s imagine two columns – one for ideas and another for execution There is a number value to the strength of both the idea and it’s execution (Eg: An awful idea is valued at -1, and if there is no execution of the idea it is valued at 1$) …
-
Floating about
I’d have to dig deep To find another song and poem Or so I thought Winds will find tales to carry From my surface & deeper still There’s stories lying in the wake of my skin Rooted bone deep they may be But for a breeze to graze, they lie awake Mild strokes, tickle or gusts of agitation There’s a cocktail of stories floating about For anyone tuned in just right
-
To wander and to sleep
The world can sometimes weigh like boulders And some days you may find it easier to tow the line Walk along with closed eyes, headed one way To not know , not think or even ask “Are we heading somewhere?” There comes a bend in the step And you could remove the blinds Step aside Or, you could keep marching Perhaps to wonder one day, Where would I have arrived, had I fallen out of line Thrown all together, in…
-
What are we but dragonflies
What are we but dragonflies Dragonflies, with strings attached Punters of art, with pending bills Drifting between worlds Partly wise, partly child Seeking the horizon. Forever & ever.
-
Gap year travel – Angkor Wat
You were a privilege to see and in which to be Green fields Stone stacks Arched entries Chipped faces And breathing trees I stood, a dwarf among giants And imagination took me places