A little boy
stood on the ground
holding a kite
with great delight.
With a friend
by his side
he managed to
give wings to his kite.
In the first attempt,
the kite rose,
going higher on the rungs
of wind's ladder.
Soon it flew to
great distance
floating above
buildings and houses.
The joyful boy
held his head high
in sync with the kite
overwhelmed with its height.
A little later,
a voice surfaced
and the boy realized
it was addressed to
the owner of the kite.
A voice that dwindled itself
with coughs and sneezes
but a gush of arrogance,
it complained to the boy
how could he fly the kite
without getting territorial rights
A bit perplexed,
He thought of birds,
and their freedom to fly
never got questioned.
the boy kept quiet.
but not for long
and answered with all his might.
If you have boundaries
I am unaware of,
kindly draw it in the sky.
I promise once drawn,
I would take back my kite
and fly it only
within what you called
my territorial rights.
The voice faded,
but left the boy
brooding over freedom,
later in the darkness
of that night.

What your absence

brings to me,

O' Moon,

you are oblivious

of my plight.

Inspirations dry,

anxieties rise,

a vacuum appears,

my creativity takes a plunge

and is left to die.

You create only

an illusion for me

that 

everything is alright.

Today the land

sizzles

in your 

shimmering light.

A few days of being

and then

you recede,

to come back

again in a fortnight,

with a promise

that you will

be shining on me

ever bright.

Highway

Swish Swoosh

cars rush,

trucks loaded to the brim

roar slowly,

bikes with bikers

sans helmets

riding ahead,

sole cyclist 

keeping to the left,

women walking

with woods balancing

on their heads,

Buses carrying

passengers on their way,

from dawn to dusk,

night and day,

the Highway,

it seems 

seldom 

takes rest.

In the morning,
I wake up.
Remnants of  yesterday
haunt me still.
Which thoughts are they?
A little vague
in the distance
they lurk.
And have descended
completely over me,
I strive
to break
the morbid net
I am caught in.
I do not see
black and white.
This intermediate
vision prolongs
obscurity.
I drown in
the quagmire,
For how long?
This too remains
Obscure.

Walk down the street
you have never known
and only guess
what awaits to appear.

As you tread ahead
haze will get clearer
with each taken step,
the mist will disappear.

Darkness of fear
might envelope you
but dawn of hope
believe me, is very near.

Walk that extra mile
and you will soak yourself
in the fruits that
your efforts bear.

Waking up on a winter morning

"Well, this is Winter. Isn't it?" he said. "WELL, I am not so sure" she replied. "Come out in the balcony and have a look for yourself."

And there it was. First time in the season. After having waited through out for white blanket that used to cover everything in winter mornings, today the elusive and evasive came back with panache, lending some authenticity to the season. What is Winter without having a single day of foggy envelope, the smell of the mist and homogeneity of the colour white in the morning , that it seems ages ago sometimes used to stretch till afternoon.

Winter is the season. But here it doesn't feel in the plenitude of sunshine during the day. The sun as warm as could be on any other season's day , perhaps as in spring. That's also because I have lived in different geographical locations than this one before but most importantly, it is about the global change in the weather due to the heating up of the atmosphere caused due to our human actions. Our idea to excel at a meteoric rate, neglecting the consequences has started showing its effects and this is what we have done to us, the seasons do not feel as they used to before. 

And therefore, when the season's first fog greeted me, I welcomed it with a huge smile on my face. The sheer sight of chalky mist enthused my complete being. I started thinking of titles of my next posts. I only wish you don't go away so soon. 

A special rendez-vous

So, tomorrow my niece is turning two. We have come to Ranthambore to celebrate her birthday by spotting tiger at the National Park.

We reached our hotel around 12 noon. And my sister had already booked the safari for 2 p.m. We enquired about the time we would leave, the receptionist told us that the gypsy would arrie anywhere between 2 and 3 p.m. Our patience test had only begun.

The groups around us who we had also seen at the restaurant started boarding one by one the gypsies. Another gypsy arrived and we thought it was ours. Our excitement level shot up. There was a group of uncles and aunties soaking in.the sun but obviously they had also been waiting for their turn. So when this gypsy arrived, these elderly people took.their seats and went away, leaving us alone.

And finally, our gypsy came. And we were again full of zeal and enthusiasm. Our driver and guide took us towards the National park, where an Australian elderly couple were going to join us.

We all now were ready for.our adventure. We took trail no 5. The open gypsy was taking us ahead on the uneven terrain. The first to come across were the langoors. A little ahead were the deers, antelopes and sambar deer. While the deers were all fine and good bit we were there for the majestic being of the animal kingdom. After every now and then, deers could be spotted.

A gypsy carrying tourists were coming back. Our driver stopped. It seemed a habitual thing to do. He aske the other driver whether they ad spotted the big Cat. The answer was a big No. We came across another gypsy, they confirmed the absence of the tiger on our trail. They said people.had viewed the Tiger on trail number 4,

And thus, our excitement that had risen to a sky high level dropped . And then , i thought of those people who had spotted the tiger at some time or the other. And i asked my sister, " What do the fortunate bunch of people look like?" After a good laugh, we stopped near a Pond . We got down for a while . The guide explaining.the history and the facts to the Australian couple, and the driver answering our queries by telling us we might not spot the tiger. In the meanwhile, tjere was a gypsy that came to where we were and they turned back from there itself.

A little later, we sat in the gypsy again and wen t ahead. While we were moving forward, a gypsy was coming back. The driver told our driver what our ears had been desperately waiting to hear, that a tiger had been spotted. As soon as he uttere the words, our driver geared up and took us a little faster on the trail, so as not to miss what we had come.there for at the first place.

 A little later we approached a few mor gypsies and a canter who had stationed themselves. And automatically, our eyes turned left to search for the Cat. And, there it was, Her majesty of the animal kingdom, sitting quietly and making itself a feast fir all the eyes present. We watched transfixed. It yawned once. And then.stood up. And started walking towards us. As ours was the last gypsy in the queue, the tigress, named Leila as the guide told us, walked very close by from us and went on the other side.

All this show confirmed that the fortunate people who.had earlier spotted the tiger/tigress, whom i was asking about during the trail, looked certainly like.us

Happy birthday Chiku. :)

Birds make way
back to their nests,
buzzing of crickets
get louder gradually,
the reluctant moves
of the leaves,
unwilling, but slaves
to the breeze,
Dabbed in orange,
the western horizon
surrenders, slowly
but completely
to the mighty
kingdom of night,
Insubordinate, however,
to the rules of dark,
remain the silver Moon
and the congregation of Stars.