Thursday, 12 June 2014


Each water droplet of the saffron river

Sing renunciation

While the lovers nibble grass with their

Cotton ball stuffed ears

The ochre robed man sprinkles on his shaven head

The blissful placidity from the flow

The trees with their black foliages

Sing in bird voice

An all mighty little star fake smiles at

The weary sun

Tear drops of violet daylight mingle with the water

Vespers from the monastery stir my soul

And quietly flows the Himalayas

In the mind of his daughter Ganga*



*In the Hindu mythology the Ganga (the Ganges) is Himalayas’ daughter




Written for  Meeting the Bar: Critique and Craft @ d’Verse


Arun, Barun, Kiranmala by Shailen Ghosh courtesy : google image

When I was a fourth grader

I lost a story book in school

I can still remember that lump

In the throat, that frantic search

And rebukes from the elders

That story of three siblings

Based on a popular folk-tale

Had beautiful songs and rhymes

The book was half read

And to add salt to injury

Vanished from the market

Decades after decades passed

The brothers and their only sister

Were lost in the darkness of oblivion

A few years ago

In a book fair in our small town

I found the book in a stall

Not losing a moment I bought it

“Why this fairy tale now?” says my daughter

“Oh it’s not a book, it’s my childhood” I tell her


Posted for Gabriella’s prompt Lost And Found @ Poetry Jam