Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized

What this picture say?

Prayer flags at George Everest point, Mussoorie.

This picture will not tell,
how pretty pictures of this place
on those fancy travel websites, lured me.
And I set on to explore it, with much glee.
This picture will not tell,
the stories of those mighty ranges,
from whose foothill I started.
Nor about those beautiful winding road,
covering the Himalayas
like a serpent holding its prey,
that faithfully showed us the way.

This picture will not tell,
how many times I wished
there was someone beside me
in the backseat of the cab,
to whom I would’ve pointed out
the deepest shades of blue in the sky,
or the breathtaking view of the
Doon valley below, as we passed by.
and how I longed for someone
to fall onto, laughing and shrieking,
in each sharp turn.
This picture will not tell,
how the driver almost took a wrong turn
on the way, and we had to stop
in a picturesque but deserted hill top.
And I got out of the cab, and clicked pictures
of the surreal surrounding I was in,
to show it to my friends later, where I’d been.
And about all the climbing I did,
cautiously keeping my foot,
overcoming fear with every step that I took.
And how many times I stopped,
to catch my breath, bent
down with hands on my waist,

But I hope it tells you,
how ecstatic I was, when I finally reached
to be alive, to be standing there
with the wind on my face.
How significant and insignificant
I felt all at once, just to behold
the mountains, about which stories
must have been told and retold.
How my heart fluttered,
like these prayer flags
dancing in the breeze,
and I wondered, where they will fly to,
which path they will choose,
if they ever happen to break loose?

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized

Nimi’s birthday

I can’t tell you for sure
for how long I’ve known her,
and since when we’re friends.
What I can tell you is,
what this friendship means to me,
and how beautiful a soul is she!
My constant,
store-house of all my secrets, and
roll-on-the-floor-and-laugh partner.
She joins me, unfailingly,
in all the illogical things I do.
And, later on helps me to reason with it too.
She laughs at my bad dating history,
and I at her.
We think and sigh together
and think, how we could’ve done it better.
She fills my otherwise ‘monotonous’ life,
with her melodramas. And every time,
I think I am done listening to her.
She indulges in something funnier.
(But, I just hope she stops
sending me that ‘if friendship lasted 7 years,
it will last forever’


Today is her birthday
and, I just want to say-
I will be there, to help you
enjoy and tackle every craziness
that comes your way.

A very happy birthday!

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized

Time and again

The first time I fell in love, I fell
because he was tall, fair and handsome.
And wore good perfume.
He wrote to me
my first romantic letter
saying, “Without you, I feel like
what Alexander the great
might have felt while crossing
the Gedrosian desert”.
And reading it, I almost heard
my ‘fluttering’ heart.
And when over coffee,
he introduced me
to Bryan Adams and
Erich Segal.
My mind acted all nonsensical.

The second time I fell in love,
I was sixteen.
When on a sunny afternoon,
He looked into my eyes and
said he loves me,
I thought that’s what ‘true love’ means.

For third time, I totally blame Sparks.
For, by this time (thanks to his work),
I had already became the
‘hopeless romantic’ kind.
I walked hand-in-hand
On the edge of the sea;
and smiled at every flattery.

Fourth time,
I was trying not to.
Yet, it came in the most
unexpected way.
And swept me off my feet
And made me sway.

I fell in love again. This time
Joyful and simple, it seemed.
For, in his eyes I saw
How I mean the world to him.