Sunday, March 31, 2019

Peachy Love

​​​​Fresh flowers, moist,
float down,
​a bit after t​​he morning sun
lit up your eyes..​.

The buds reach your lips,
swaying down from their pedestal,
the lone peach tree up the hill​.​
Coerced​ down by the whiff of 
a mint-laced mountain breeze
​- his breath reaches yours​,​
his soul ​touches your lips,
a dance follows,
​serene like a river's flow,
wild like its roar.​​
The solitary Peach tree near The Goat Village Nagtibba (Pic: Sreetama Bagchi)

Sunday, March 24, 2019

Brownian Destiny

​She beholds 'em in awe,
the falling leaves of spring,
the Palash bloom who,
in jest,
tapped her left shoulder;
made her turn right,
towards the right hues of life,
bright red, dreamy yellow.​​

We too,
I sigh and smile,
live our Brownian lives,
swaying with the mystical laws...
Of physics, blessings and fate,
our dreams and destiny.
Pic: Sreetama Bagchi

Thursday, March 21, 2019

Clair de Lune

​To hear the silent,
lonely song of the moon tonight,
I strained my heart,
climbed up the winding stairs
of my creative will,
each step stained with sweat
of the masons who built them.
Wonder if they are alive,
do they climb stairs too,
to try and hear this song I crave.

Silence...
That's what we all get,
even the living masons,
the dead artistes,
after a futile chase.
For what we possess is 
a bit of noise, quite a lot,
which we clang up
living by some mortal algorithm.
Look up above, I plead,
in Clair de Lune
lie our immortal visions, life's rhythm!


Saturday, October 06, 2018

Dust Hound

Look at him, my dog, chase dust.
After all, dust defines us;
has moulded us into
monuments of wonder;
into beings who wander,
seeking taller high-rises,
looking down at the
smallest wonders of the world.
Ashes scatter... Our souls stay, 
fine, earthly, err... dusty!

Look at him, my dog, chase...
In awe, in joy, in angst even!
Masala Baby and I at Lodi Gardens, Delhi (Pic: Sreetama Bagchi)

Friday, February 23, 2018

Eliot and I

He was ambushed,
questioned, in a dark room,
where is your Waste Land?
Around you, he sighed.

... Near me, I discover,
while I try to gauge
the length of a long shadow
cast by my office desk lamp --
dark, hiding my Waste Land,
lighting up theirs! 


Sunday, February 11, 2018

Ode to Lutyens' Dew


The morning dew
lounges in her hammock
at Connaught Place,
it's still winter, a Sunday!

I search for coffee,
but skip breakfast, or did I?
Wow, I did jump a few signals,
to enjoy the smiling traffic
-- a few vintage cars
and dogs of Lutyens' Delhi.


Wednesday, January 31, 2018

Homemade Heaven!

Winter, her morning songs, calls for a dance; but the heart wraps itself in summer, his lullaby... A good layer of fleece, thick skin of cotton, and a fine lining of love. It's complete -- my homemade heaven!
Pic by Sreetama Bagchi (Instagram: @sreetamabagchi)