Until we meet again

As the grand festival of Mandi Shivratri concludes, the heart holds a mix of gratitude and longing. This poem reflects the emotions of bidding farewell to the deities and celebrations, yet finding strength in the unwavering faith that Shiva remains with us beyond the festivities. Just as devotees depart, carrying His blessings, this poem serves as a prayer—trusting in His divine strength, knowing that today and tomorrow remain safe in His eternal embrace.

So long my dear friend. 

so long,

and until then, 

strong in Thy strength, 

safe in Thy hold.

in Thee do we trust, 

our todays and tomorrows.

Welfare unto all 

Rab rakha 

The Forsaken

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 

Khalsa Mero Roop Hai Khaas

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 

Thy August Gift

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