On verses yet to unfold

The halls seem desolate. The rooms, rather impersonal. Like the last breath has left a body. Only, here the rooms await someone else. Melancholy inhabits the spaces, in the meantime.

Another onam has passed. Someone died today, as the sun came up.

I’ll pack my bags again and move tomorrow. In the meantime, I linger and ponder on whether these trees will miss me. How I have stayed and dreamt with these trees day and night. They look beautiful. I should pack.

Are all notions of permanence mere transitory thoughts?

It might be preposterous to imagine, that my presence here mattered. The day will look just the same tomorrow.

What are we really working upon – each day – every single day of our very short lives? What are we building? What should we be building? A family, a name? Are they incongruous to each other? Where lies that fine balance?

The echoes of the past reverberate through stories and monuments. Walk into an old tomb and listen to the stories of yesteryears- stories of workers that laid hands on every sculpture there is. They must have measured out every angle of every chin of every sculpture. They have left behind, a witness to their existence.

What is my monument? What is my grand story? All these seemingly regular days; these winds I whisper to; these moments I so love – what will they translate to?

“That you are here—that life exists and identity,
That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse.”
– Walt Whitman (O Me! O Life!)

What will my verse contain? Maybe, I’ll know… soon enough.

A lifetime – A kaleidoscope

Due disclosures – When you come across the phrase, “the moment seizes you”, you might be tempted to call me a thief. So let me tell you in the beginning itself that I watched ‘Boyhood‘, the movie yesterday and that is what inspired me to pen this down. If you still want to call me a thief, go ahead :).

Have you looked at this moment carefully?

This fleeting, careless moment –

It sweeps past you with disdain.

You hold your breath and wait –

For it to have gone,

Sufficiently into the past;

And then –

In the shade of a distant time,

You ask yourself,

How have l lived?

You retrieve these very seconds and find

That your love for yourself

Has coloured it all –

Life is brighter in memories;

Moments are more precious

Once they have passed.


Moments –

If only we could,

Hold each one in our palm,

Laugh with it, appreciate it,

While it is still, a creature of now,

Maybe we would,

Answer our own questions

Lying in wait, in the realm of tomorrow,

With a tinge of reality

And a flourish of contentment.


The queries you make,

The answers you let yourself find –

They pave a path -your life.

Those moments that come by-

They give breath to your life.

Seize the moment and you turn a corner.

Let the moment seize you

And you find a fullness –

Here in the now.

With enough of those –

Inspired questions

And content experiences –

You and time

Would have made

a kaleidoscope – Your lifetime.