Whispering Thoughts

This poem that I share here was written in the week gone by. The prompt words were sweaty, sunny and ice. And I attempted rhyming style.  The poem is developed around a simple summer scene. Nothing intricate or complex. And this was the underlying theme. As the poem progresses, the summer scene gives way to romance. And that is the main highlight. That love is nothing intricate or complex. At times it is just two people connecting and bonding, spending quality time. It's not about getting dressed to nines. At least not everytime. Sometimes its just a hurried get together in a crowded food court. Love is simple. And there is but a little fuss involved.  The poem is titled : A LITTLE FUSS It was a sweltering sunday of a very summery sunny may.  And the tiny bachelorette pad,  craved for some broom, brush and swab. From the hideout, laundry stared back,  sweaty, stinky me soaked the stack.  Chores done, then to pamper yours truly,  a little scrub, rub, to...

The photo prompt from Hellokoo ported me to my Mandi visit. And Mandi visits my thoughts so often these days.  Coming back to the prompt, it featured two little kids peeking into free little library and selecting books.  It reminded me of shopping errands with my sister when we suddenly, instinctively visited the bookstore and couldn't resist buying them. We selected three at that time. But the urge was so compelling. I have tried to capture that moment in 5-7-5 structure : Hurried shopping spree. Souk visit, bookstore enroute. We could buy them all. Welfare unto all  Rab rakha 

That landmark corner of alley,  those monolithic tablets inscribed with royal memoirs, became our very first playground.  Oblivious to their noteworthiness,  we disturbed  those sacred stones with our hoo-ha.  And I guess, whatever phantasm it is,  that resides in those annals,  enjoyed, when our tiny feet  mauled that space,  (a little ungraciously though)  playing hide and seek,  oonch neech ka papda,  and countless rounds of box cricket.  It kind of felt alive. Awake. Cognizant.  But now, cloaked heavily in its silence,  memorial stands forsaken. The hubbub has faded. And the specters shiver.  Creepy, cold, lonely specters in abandoned, forlorn cenotaphs. Sounds so much like us. Welfare unto all  Rab rakha 

The post comes a day late. I had written it yesterday.  But was a little unwell.  So the post was not shared.  My apologies.  April 15th... Himachal day.. Historically speaking,  Himachal Day   is observed every year on 15 April in Himachal Pradesh. The state of Himachal Pradesh came into existence on this day in 1948 when. Post Independence, 28 minor princely states were integrated into one province of Himachal Pradesh. Himachal Day 2023 is an official holiday in the state of Himachal Pradesh. This day is celebrated to glorify the state's creation. This day is marked with a grand parade in Himachal Pradesh’s capital city, Shimla. Local events are arranged in nearby towns and villages to enshrine this day. And for my beloved Himachal,  I just let my imagination run wild...  Oh! For I just want to lose myself in the scented folds of your skin, to traverse through the mesh of your auricles and ventricles, slowly tracing your curves, crests and troug...

Beyond the walls of all attachments.  Beyond the sounds of all revelries.  Beyond the glamor of all beauty.  Beyond the traces of all contours.  Beyond the awareness of all actions.  Beyond the barriers of all pretense. Beyond the fear of all conquests.  Beyond the vastness of all vocabulary.  Khalsa Mero Roop Hai Khaas Welfare unto all  Rab rakha 

As I smoothen  the wrinkles and creases of voile,  draping, flattening the fabric  and setting elegant pleats, Thy glorious hymns playing in background, a strange feeling  courses through my veins. A few finishing touches and I step out, regal and radiant.  Outside, I may be deprived.  But such is Thy grace,  magnanimous Thy blessings,  that I am royalty within.  Thy august gift, a divine crown, I wear it proudly.  Daily. Welfare unto all  Rab rakha 

A tiny dot,  a speckle in this world,  leading an unworthy life.  Immense Thy grace,  in Thy recall,  I flourish and prosper.  I come to Thy door,  seeking a glimpse of Thy magnificent form.  For all those  who serve You with faith and belief,  are ferried across.  Jis neech kao ko-ee na jaanai Naam japat uho chaho kunt maanai Darshan maagao day-eh pi-aaray Tumaree sayvaa kaun kaun na taaray Welfare unto all  Rab rakha 

And wherever Thee chooses to reside, wherever Thee halts and rests, that place, that soil, that piece of land becomes sanctified, blessed and piously beautiful. And those who believe in Thy glory, Thy faithful humble servants,  seek out that place. Devotedly, they touch the ground,  and smear their foreheads with the dust of Thy feet,  reveling in Thy grace. Welfare unto all  Rab rakha 

There are times when we clash. Ablaze, we sleep. The night grows and the sleepy me unknowingly tilts over  to your side of bed and snuggle by your side. Like nothing had happened. A sunshine ray. Tomorrow starts with you. Love finds its way. Every single time. Welfare unto all  Rab rakha 

It was a beautiful spring morning.  Greyish white cotton floating against greyish blue backdrop. Clean, fresh, cool breeze. Birds chirping.  And amidst this newness, this bloom,  this freshness, a beautiful early sun  was peeking through the lush green leaves  of a garden tree. And though the scene above was pretty, the tulips in the lawn had all wilted  due to excessive rains.  And this reminded me of our dear Farmers.  Baisakhi is round the corner.  Usually at this time of the year, the fields glisten with golden wheat ready for harvest.  But these mistimed rains have spoilt  their crops.  I shudder at the thought of their loss.  So today's tanka is driven by these thoughts.    And it rained all night, the downpour inopportune. Red tulips drooping. Farmers worrying for wheat. Gold glittering on  moist morn. Welfare unto all  Rab rakha 

A pen in my hand, mind wandering, thoughts adrift. I often doodle.   Nothing concrete, nothing specific. Random tracings, casual rough drawings. Lines taking shapes, of huts, flowers, mandals. Caricatures on diary pages.   Social feed is full. Short reels, easy sketching hacks. Tutorials too. Stimulated, I attempt, Oblivious to world.   Quick glance at DIY books. The first task is to find a muse. Still, motionless… I find my inspiration in a whatsapp sticker.   On a crisp A4 sheet, disproportionate kitty, scribbled with HB lead.   FM play in the background. A maid scuttles around with chores. Something sizzles in kitchen. I draw.   I draw. And then subtly cotton-blend my first creation. I feel happy within.   Ah! Someday mayhaps, I too shall master this craft. Learning like poems.   And here I am. Giving finishing touches to Angel …   All this while, my mind...