The Cloud and The Earth

It was raining outside my window. The clouds were in full flow with all the passion to shower that rain over the dry earth, the earth who waited for so long for this moment. This is so romantic. As the rain drops were absorbed in her skin, the skin of earth, the soil, a fresh fragrance rose out, something ecstatic, something pure. I believe this is the gift of the earth for the clouds, when the yearning finally ends. The conjugation of this cloud and the earth seems and feels like a true love story, an eternal one, having all the elements of the perfect romance. Without rain, the earth is just dry, all cracked up, lifeless; the separation is too much to bear. Like there’s a pain in heart, a pain of being away from the love. All that is there is just the wait, wait for the rain filled clouds to come back home and shower it’s love. There’s a hope, a fearless dauntless hopeful hope. The wait for one and only one true love is almost nearing its end.
And the clouds, filled with rain for his darling, when they arrive, they arrive in their own style. With lightnings and thunderstorm, they announce their own arrival and make the earth even more restless. Imagine two lovers, one waiting on the other side of the door, growing impatient with every passing moment, while the other arriving as fast as he could to meet her. That restlessness is in the form of soft breeze, blowing calmly yet with an intensity that picks up momentum slowly as the moment of meeting comes near. The clouds, in their own swag, continue with their own light and sound show and gathers up the courage to meet the love after a long time. When finally the cloud arrives at the door, everything falls silent and they both embraces each other with a doting passion. The clouds embrace the earth and shower the rain all over her. The earth seems vibrant now, even more colourful than she was earlier. Tears run down the face of earth, in the form of rivulets, tears of happiness, of joy, of union. And then they go on making love, while the scent of love fills up the air.
The clouds embrace the earth, hug her silently, all silent now, when all the love has been showered. And then with a bright smile, the earth seems happy, smiling widely in a jovial mood, while the cloud in her embrace watches the colourful  smile light up the sky, in form of the rainbow. And that’s when the sun gathers up some courage to come out slowly, to provide some warmth. The flowers are happy, so are the trees and the birds. They all go out and sing their own song and make merry. The love in nature is so pure and so sure that I have no more words to express it.
All the floods and all, I believe this is the result of the cloud’s anger, to see his darling the earth in a painful condition, conditions brought upon by the humans. Imagine if someone hurt your darling, your one true love, wouldn’t you be angry? This is a perfect love story, a perfect union, which keeps on repeating itself.

I will burn away some day,
I will fade away one day,
But till I am here,
I will love you everyday.

Market Unfolds…

And then everything seemed vibrant.
When the sun came up shining brightly after the rain.
In the market, which is a small one, people thronged to buy fresh vegetables and fruits, it being Sunday. The breeze was still strong, and the plastic sheets in green and blue and yellow covers which were connected by strings to the tree or poles swayed ferociously. The color of tomatoes was enhanced by the light filtered through the sheets, and so was the color of other vegetables. Vendors would place their items wherever they found place, and the market was packed. Vehicles were all parked outside, everyone moved about carrying carry bags. The breeze would blow again, and the dried brown and yellow leaves would roll over and be carried away, just like small kids playing in the vast playground they have. Some people stood in line outside the ATM, waiting patiently for the person to finish his transaction. One of the two machines would be out of service, and the time would take even longer. ATM machine would be feeling rich, for he has so much of cash, notes of 1000, 500 and so on. The other machine would have called in sick that day, and would be relaxing in the conditioned air. And this other one had to do all the work.
In the market, all kinds of people come. Some come to sell, some come to buy. Some come with kids, and I go there to see the people, how they react, how they behave. Not that I don’t buy stuff, but I find it interesting to observe people.


Hope, you know, it never ends. It dies with death only. Even the fear of death doesn’t detest or weakens the hope. It makes it even stronger. Hope is like a dark tunnel. A tunnel which may have been neglected, old, ruined, dirty; yet if it’s a tunnel, no matter in what condition it is in, it will always have an opening. And when the first ray of light will be visible, you will realize that hope never dies. We do not know the vastness of this entire universe. We are just tini tiny human beings, living in some city, in a tini tiny planet called earth. The Milky Way. We do not know what is unknown. So all we have with us is hope. We set alarm to wake up in the morning. What is that if not hope. Hope that the next day I will wake up and continue to live my life. Who knows what might happen while you are asleep. Yet there’s a hope somewhere.

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Intricate worlds

follow your nose

The sun is already well above the horizon, but I go on down anyway.
It’s a tiny paradise of riotous sound down here, a cacophony of birds – funny to think we associate being in nature with quiet, when it can be so very noisy.
A red-winged blackbird flies straight at me as if to say, Hello! Where have you been? It’s been a few days, and you’ve missed all kinds of things – the buds are all over the trees, the geese have taken over the duck ponds, and they fight with the muskrat who’s always after their eggs, and the turtles are back, and so much is going on… what happened to you?red-winged blackbird speaksThe push-pull – some days I think, really I don’t need any more half-assed nature photos, so I skip it, stay home and do yoga.
Other days I head out, starting with a kind of…

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Let Me Know

Talk to the rain,
Talk to the sun,
And let me know what you think
Fly with the clouds
Fly with the birds
And let me know what you hear
See the moon
See the stars

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Leaves & Life

_CSC0146 I was sitting on the porch, and it was a lazy afternoon. The dry breeze was blowing, and surprisingly, it offered some respite from the heat. in the breeze, i saw a few leaves fall to the ground, saying their goodbye slowly as they hit the ground. I wondered “Did the tree miss those leaves?” “Did the leaves have any emotional scene before leaving the tree?”. Lost in these thoughts, the grey cells fumbled upon the words, which formed a poem; a poem of longings, desires and cacophony of thoughts.

The sunlight came filtering through the leaves,
Thoughts clamor within the silent self
Is this true me or just an illusion?
As I sit motionless while my shadow dances to the sun.
The leaves rumble in the breeze,
When the thoughts start to take a form,
No, it can’t be happening again…
The buried thought shouldn’t rise yet again.
The movement of leaves forms a symphony,
I close my eyes; let the thought burn
The carnal desires start to scream,
Was it reality or just a dream?
A few leaves drop down, being swept away
Life snatched with just a gust.
If everything was this simple
Depart and no longer linger; lost and no longer be found.

Leap of Faith!


Something was happening. I lay still on my bed when I heard some sound, sound which was abnormal for it was late at night, coming from inside of my cupboard, around 11. Had it been during the day time, it wouldn’t had aroused such suspicion. But the tiredness of the day’s work took over me, and I was too lazy to get up. So I thought, “Let’s check it out the first thing in the morning”. Read More

Picturesque Sky

As I write this, the sun is paving its way, to get ready for sunset. However the sky is still well lit, and it takes so much effort to look into the sun directly. I had to almost close my eyes, as in playing peek a boo and see through my blurred eye lashes. While doing so, long rays of sun seems to emancipate from it in all the directions. Its is still burning bright, and the sky around it is still white, while slowly it gradients to blue all the way. I can see the distant bluish mountain peaks. The peaks are arranged in layers, as in one after another. Cool breeze is blowing and i feel my hands shiver a bit.

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Blindness comes confusing
Confusing reality with dreams.
Convulsions arise in the body,
Subdued only by a touch.
While the melody of strings plays,
Cacophony of thoughts emerge within.
I seem to fall in the abyss of darkness,
And heaviness settles in my heart.
I am dead in my thoughts,
But never my dreams.