The sentinel

 Beyond the bethel,

mundane humdrum existence. 

People going about their routines,

rushing with their chores and errands.

Everyone, hurrying for everything.

And the bethel stands there,

watching it all unfold in its lap. 

The hamlet waking up at cockcrow, 

running helter-skelter from dawn to dark,

and finally, 

yawning and slumbering at witching hours. 

At times, the faithful visit the precincts,

gravitating herewards to find peace

in its sacred confines. 

But that's not often too.

And yet the bethel stands sentinel, 

watching our comings and goings. 

Dutifully, the bells toll,

the tradition remains. 

A subtle pause midst all the hustling.

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Welfare unto all 

Rab rakha 

Rakhigarhi

 Once upon a time, there was a town.

Was.

Flourishing, breathing, living.

Comings and goings alive, 

with humanity.

Soulful streets, bustling merrily. 

Civic life, spirited. 

People, unfettered and free. 

Art and sciences, pioneering. 

Architecture, spellbinding. 

Religion, simple, 

sanctified by purity of thoughts. 

Erudites, their knowledge, deep and polished.

Dynamic cradle of civilization.

4500 years ago. 

Forlorn, 

the mounds stare silently today.

The greatest realm, dilapidated, 

the reign reduced to relics.

The enduring question 

“who we were” 

echoing in archaic remains. 

Answer! 

Safely buried 

with the fossils smiling sinisterly. 

Rakhigarhi. 

Where the broken shards 

of ancient history 

prick the residents daily.

Welfare unto all

Rab rakha 🤗 🤗 🤗 

Sheer love

 The adrenaline comes rushing

through the bloodstream,

colouring my cheeks,

that deep pinkish red,

and I feel the warmth too.

Like all eyes are on me.

And that thumping of the heart,

the beat, audibly loud,

the force, quite impactful.

Embarrassed. Scared. Proud. Happy.

All at the same time.

Tongue-tied, thus,

whenever she calls me.

Blushing too.

Scientifically, they say,

it’s nervous system responding

to a stimulus, so strong,

that the tongue disconnects from brain,

momentarily,

making all my words disappear, suddenly.

But to me, this is love.

Sheer love.

Stammering and stuttering, outside

and yet,

profound and earnest, within.

Welfare unto all 

Rab rakha 🤗 🤗 🤗 

Another day, another chance

Another day, another chance.

At life and at living.

Yet another prospect

to prefect this art.

To draw the right strokes.

To smudge and shade the gradients.

Oh! And what a blessing it is!

To see the night retiring,

leaving the door, ajar,

allowing the light to rush in,

the blushing dawn

spreading its tippet,

and the prismatic scattering

that follows,

consuming the night.

Slowly. Definitely.

Yes!

Another day. Another chance.

Second. Third… Millionth. Zillionth chance.

To breathe.

To believe.

To be busily astir.

And to beget.

Your very own concrete rose.

Mayhaps a little flawed,

but undoubtedly immensely blessed.

Namaskar

Deepest reverence,
that a simple, sacred courtesy can offer.
Syllables of greeting,
sound of spirits,
rhythm of souls.
A quest,
beyond me and mine,
towards you and yours.
From me to you,
this salutation, a yielding,
evoking the divine within us,
acknowledging,
recognizing and ratifying,
the pious and pure.
The resonance in hearts,
the synchronization of energies,
the vibrations in ether,
the rising joy in universe,
the calming effect on beings,
and finally
that irresistible curling of lips in smile.
A humble obeisance.
Ancient. Traditional. Time-honoured.
Logical. Precise. Scientific.
Archaic? Yes.
Contemporary, too.
So cultural.
And so in vogue.

Writing for 100wordbstroy challenge on Momspresso 

Life in moments

Beyond the chaos,
someday we will start living,
and
we will celebrate.
Lavish candle light dinners
with
tables and timelines ,
both reserved.

Amidst this mayhem,
when the world is all topsy-turvy,
between the uncertainty of it all,
amongst the fleeting moments,
we will celebrate.
All of us, together,
A home cooked meal,
simple, yet sumptuous,
set out on that grandpa-table,
with extra dullops of love,
and extra-large servings.
Luxuries, only a few can afford.
Such moments of simplicity,
when
through the gossamer curtains of nonce,
that mesmerizing gander of life.

Love for those who matter,
when it matters.

Amen!

For PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Roger's

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Welfare unto all
Rab rakha 

The eventide

The eventide.
That return to the nest,
the dull ache of pendencies,
the weariness of struggles,
the paused turmoils,
the sweat, blood and tears,
all melting,
rather dissolving in
the rustle of fallen leaves in lawn,
the ricocheting laughters indoors,
 the pestering, the tantalizing tease,
the boomerang zealous zest.
The elixir of this life,
that embalming smile on your face.

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Welfare unto all 

Rab rakha 

Shades of life

Eerily empty,
places all around, forsaken.
No scampering feet,
no jostling crowds,
no haggling customers,
no springtime frolicking.
Nothing.
The fountain sings alone,
old coins rusting at its base.
No hushed secrets,
no whispered confessions,
no more a witness
to furtive kisses.
Everywhere, all around,
a ghostly silence,
thick grey shroud,
beneath which,
the questions lurk,
the whats, whos, wheres,
their answers eluding,
confounding.
Deep inside the caves,
there is science and reason,
the protections, the preventions.
Out in the garden,
the flowers are blooming,
red and yellow and white
and the birds are chirping
and cat, basking in sunshine.

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The picture prompt for this week is

PHOTO PROMPT © Ceayr

Dawning

The sky pulls a curtain
on the star-studded night
and suddenly, the day peaks,
from the gossamer corners,
flashing a naïve, innocent smile,
so pristine, so pure, so refreshing,
and the sky lights up.
Slowly at first,
blushing a tad bit,
(that unmistakable
and unmissable
subtle red-violet streak
on the cheeks)
and then the daylight twirls,
and whirls, in full swing,
until the blue trail
of flowing chiffon gown
is splashed everywhere.
Ah! The daybreak.
Raw. Radiant. Resplendent.
The showstopper,
mesmerizing the audience.
The temptation, the tease, serenading.
The trance, the reverie, spellbinding.
The exquisite dawning, inspiring.
Just like you!

Linking with Thin Spiral Notebook - 100 words

Welfare unto all
Rab rakha 🤗 🤗 🤗 

Waste to wonder

Last month we had a family get together and we visited this place in New Delhi - The Waste to Wonder Park - a unique theme park. The park features the miniature replicas of iconic seven wonders of the world, created from industrial waste,  auto parts, cycle chains, car engines, truck springs, petrol tanks and what not. From The Taj Mahal to The Colosseum, we relished every single creation... Delhi sun, street food, family... Some memories...my throwback to the visit in 100 words

Crafted from waste,
scrap here, cast-off there,
the metallic replicas
of wondrous monuments, glisten.
Something like,
broken cups remade with gold.
History playing hide and seek
on that sunny Sunday noon.
The curious explorations,
bewildering;
revelations that follow,
mesmerizing.
Happy squeals,
zealous spirits,
awe-inspiring moments.
The structures,
coming alive
with our innocent laughter.
Oh! One perfect world tour.
From waste to wonders
and a walk
through those wonders, wonderful!
Throwback to that tickled time,
spent with tribe.
Throwback to that history class,
attended with friends.
Throwback to lively fragments
of time frame.
Handful of pictures.
Bag full of rich memories.

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PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll

Muse

These conversations, 

scribbled in cursive, 

like bunch of squiggly lines, 

drawn across the paper; 

love-letters, unaddressed, unlabelled;

for whom do you weave 

this togetherness 

in mystic mellifluous rhythm?

The words carved in striking blue ink, 

against white A4 backdrop, 

syllables ringing with your laugh, 

I put my heart to paper, 

each day, 

with a sliver of hope 

that your soul will resonate 

to this pulse, this cadence. 

And today when you pick up the tune, 

why is it that 

I struggle with the lyrics, 

the right stanzas, 

to tell you that 

this is the only way, 

we stay together. 

Forever.

Linking with Thin Spiral Notebook : 100 words : Muse

Rest in peace

A blessed soul of the community departed. He was a saintly spirit and Lord Almighty had graced him with the gift of music. Even though he could not see, yet he was so good at his craft that he was revered. I remember the sheer excitement which ran through my folks when he visited the town. They made that extra effort not to miss the time allotted to him in the Kirtan Darbar. With every breath he thanked Lord for the blessings He had bestowed upon him and it so seemed that every timehhe sounded more blessed in his craft. Unwavering in his faith till his last breath, he became a legend for the community. I, though not a very committed member of community, do cherish the times I heard him sing Gurbani and Shabad. And I don't know why, today, I feel that void in me, a bit of hollowness like I lost a distant relation, some faraway family member. My 100 words for his Faith...

‘Tis faith that inspired,
instilled the spirit,
to fly, even with broken wings.
And it is with faith alone,
that the fluttering whizzing,
was steadied.
Faith, that guided his hands
so that he strummed
those melodious hymns
that sang Thy praises.
Faith that granted vision to his heart,
to see Thy generous face
in the rising and falling octaves.
And it is with faith in Thee,
that he walks today,
through the Golden Gates of heaven,
leaving behind vacuity and silence.
Angels weep out of jealousy,
as they meet Thy Chosen Child.
Forever Yours,
he is now, forever with Thee.

Linking with Thin Spiral Notebook : 100 words 

This is us !!!

The chaos outside, that cacophonous milieu,

with the typical incessant, inharmonious chatter.

And then I hear you speak,

rich, sonorous syllables,

in a rich, sonorous tone.

And suddenly all voices fade,

noises recede to the backgrounds,

becoming unnecessary and irrelevant.

The echo of your words,

ringing till long after

in the deepest corners of my heart,

like a calming rein on the wayfaring mind.

This is us.

You and me, winding down in each other’s company,

finding our own sense of calm in being together.

Our hearts, those perfect zen corners,

crafted with passion and

embellished with vivacious love chimes.

Linking with Thin Spiral Notebook : 100 words : Calm








Welfare unto all
Rab rakha 🤗 🤗 🤗 

Skindeep

Underneath the silken layers,
sans the make-up and the hair-do,
without the dash of code red lipstick
and perfectly lined eyes,
beyond the glowing radiant skin,
your soul painted in perfection.
So come to me, as you are,
minus all these masks.
You, with all your scars and flaws,
pure, authentic and real,
glowing from somewhere deep inside.
And I shall love you sweetheart,
with all my heart,
for how you are made up.

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PHOTO PROMPT COURTESY Ronda del Boccio
Welfare unto all
Rab rakha 🤗 🤗 🤗

Growing up

Cotton candies to elaborate meals, 

in the twinkling of an eye, 

the whole paradigm shifts, 

Young and undaunted, 

the soulful song of spirit, 

forever crooning. 

Linking with Thin Spiral Notebook : 100 words

Welfare unto all 

Rab rakha 🤗 🤗 🤗 

Drugged on life

Tiny little moments,
infinitesimally small,
simple, ordinary affairs,
served with extra dollop of love,
that take my breath away.
Life happens in
such slow old-school fragments.
And like a slow poison,
they blend,
infusing and diffusing in veins,
interwoven so intricately,
assimilated so seamlessly
that we cannot tell them apart.
The dose thoroughly monitored
and balanced.
Until the addiction consumes us.
Totally.
Merry hearts intoxicated
with the beauty
that this momentary Sojourn holds,
they drink the tonic slowly,
and the aftertaste,
that yummilicious vanilla essence, lingers.
Drugged on life and proudly so.
The intoxication contagious,
I hope the spirit spreads.

Linking with Thin Spiral Notebook : 100 words : poison

Vijayadashami

The spirit resonating,
with the dhak of dhol.
The circle of life:
the august arrival,
the meaningful sojourn,
the splendorous farewell,
celebrated with fervour.
The journey of soul,
through nine waxing moons,
taking us a step closer,
to the divinity within;
a step away,
from the devil,
that lurks
in deep dark kernels.
From the adrift,
erring, and wandering Ravana
towards the abundant,
the prosperous,
the blissed, and the blessed Rama.
Blush, bliss and beauty for us,
dance, devotion and divinity for us,
skill, strength and security for us.
Hold us till we meet again.
Jai Ma. Jai Jai Ma.

Midnight musings

The soft winds blow.
Nearly-full-moon shines bright.
The wind-chimes tinkle.
Subtly. Tenderly.
It is in such nights,
bedecked with silver,
and embellished with sequins,
that I sit in the lawn
and listen to the faint melody that plays.
And in my heart I talk to you.
Deep meaningful conversations.
In those moments,
you may be miles apart
but these rustlings bring you nearer.
Closer.
Like I can touch you.
Gently. On the cheek.
The uncertain music of the wind-bells rise.
The certainty of love grows.
Loud. Clear. Distinct.
Best part!
The notes stay with me.
Long after the winds rest.

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Perfume

Ah! the aroma of us.
If only, I could arrest this perfume
and patiently refill the spray bottle.
And then when you are not around,
I would wear this scent with pride,
like a rare gem from a prized collection,
and breathe your presence.
Oh I know, it won’t bring you back
but it will atleast dull your absence.
Yes! I would seize this togetherness
and live it over and over again.
Every infinitesimally small moment.
I would hold on to it
like my lifeline
for that is what it is.
And then, I would play it.
Repeat. Shuffle off.

Linking with Thin Spiral Notebook : 100 words 

Hare Krishna

The young cowherd, the god-child,
the prankster,
the brazen, besotted lover,
the flautist, the divine hero,
the universal supreme being,
the omnipresent, the omnipotent,
the omniscient, the elemental and inclusive,
how do I define thee?
The ink runs dry,
the paper insufficient,
the words, incommensurate.
Draft after draft,
I write and rewrite,
my greetings for you.
I fail in my attempts.
The verse, incomplete,
bereft and wanting.
I scroll
through the incessant mental-chatter
to find a fitting word
to begin the next draft.
Hare Krishna.
I pause.
I look no further.
The verse is complete.
Coherent.
Comprehensive.
Commensurate.

“Hare krishna”.

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