Bewra Magic

One night we camped at Bewra on our way to Doditaal. The campsite was next to a basic lodge which was also available to us and we chose to sit on its terrace and enjoy a cuppa. That's when my eye fell on this ball of fur, a bhutia pup, not more that 3 months old.. Bhutias are a ferocious breed of sheep dogs but this pup had none of that ferocity as yet, just a beautiful black nose, two beautiful grey black eyes and a nice thick green grey coat. It stood up, shook himself and looked at me, his head slightly tilted. I clicked my fingers and whistled, and as if on cue he toddled up to me and promptly put is paws into my extended hands and sniffed. My heart melted and i picked him up and brought him close to my face and whispered 'hello, beautiful'.

The next 30 minutes were blissful as i gently ran my fingers through his fur and held him up. I examined his cute paws, his ears, his snout and his bushy tail. Then we played, i swung his around, he licked my fingers, i tickled his nose and he snipped at my finger tips, i catapulted him over my shoulders and he dug his paws into my arms, he yelped and i giggled. At the end of the half hour he looked tired and quietly snuggled into the crook of my arm and peacefully went to sleep.

Souls travel, they say. And if you wish hard enough, they find you. Copper's soul had just found me.....

Winds of Change

the wind wafts through,
bringing distant lands into my room,
the chime jingles in joyous welcome,
the leaves of the potted plants gently sway,
and the wind, puffed with pride,
brushes past my eager ears,
whispering messages it has carried,
a fond goodnight, a chirpy good-morning,
a wistful half awake late night sigh,
i think i know whence these messages came,
i think i know who whispered them,
so i slowly close my palm,
and to the trapped wind within,
i too whisper my coveted message,
speedy recovery and good health,
and a swift return of that eternal smile......

The magician has left town......

god of small things

small things,

those that one can easily choose to overlook,

those little things that make up a day,

doing them to copper is what i miss the most,

they were done tenderly, yet with an occupied air,

those that he loved, he gleefully showed,

those few that he didn't he eventually chose to love,

and in those small things he lived, i lived and we shared our bond,

the memories of these small things were once so fleeting,

now they stand still, etched, permanent.....

The Fizzy and The Still

she sits on the low veranda,
the night her only companion,
crickets lustily cheer her silence,
and the moon valiantly struggles through the leaves,
covering her in pebbled light,
making a chessboard of her cascading black hair,
her thoughts are distant and random,
of fleeting memories,
snatched conversations,
of the bitter and the sweet,
her mind as if browsing in a book store,
fleeting about,
easily bored, easily distracted,
both fizzy as well as still.....

Weather the Bride

the first little signs,
wish the dohar was thicker,
the morning cup a hot chocolate,
my baddy tshirt warmer,
the very first signs,
the grass crunchier under my feet,
the air nipper,
the early sun, welcome on my face,
these are the very first signs,
signs that winter is upon us,
how my heart yearns to sing,
my feet to gig,
for the weather is a bride again......

Blinding Light's Blindness

its a clear full moon night,
and silver is streaming into my room,
like a lord the moon dominates the sky,
lighting it up and bathing it in its shimmer,
alone and aloof, yet mesmerisingly  beautiful,
its benign presence, soothing and calming.

soon the dawn shall arise,
and the moon's aura shall fade,
its existence obliterated in the blinding light,
but though none can match the sun's power,
does the sun know what it feels,
for two longing eyes to rest on it,
watch it for hours and feel peaceful within.

Dawn

it was early when my sleep seem to fade,
in darkness to the balcony I shuffled,
sat eyes closed and heard a hundred birds wake,
as each of those birds flapped its wings and rose,
so did my heart quicken and my energy soar,
and together we lifted the veil off the night.

Rain

its pouring,
a grey blanket of water,
washing away the blues,
the dust,
the grime,
the trees and the leaves,
the bylanes,
of my city,
of my mind,
washing away my sins,
my regrets,
cleansing my soul,
my thoughts,
each raindrop,
a potent key to my freedom,
so I walk in this pouring rain,
drenched, yet on the path to bliss.

Being a Friend

a friend,

for listening, or refusing to listen,

for pushing me on, or pulling me back,

for watching me fly, or keep me grounded,

for making sure i win, or learn if i don't,

for being there, or letting me be,

for letting me cry, even crying with me,

for watching me grow and growing with me.

Touch of Grey

is the world more tolerant,
or i, more patient,
is everybody in a bigger hurry,
or i, slowing down,
is there more inequity all around,
or i, finally seeing.
my joys are more subtle now,
that fleeting side glance,
that shy half smile,
the way the morning sun lights up a new leaf,
the distant call of a peacock, seeking love,
or how the dew soaked grass crunches beneath.
i wonder is everything changing,
or is it i.
i guess the world is still the same,
so its just i, touched by a little grey

On Holding Hands

By holding hands we
Talk
Tell
Share
Quell
Beg
Seek
Be strong
Be meek
Seduce
Sigh
Laugh
Cry
We keep a distance
Or narrow the gap,
And sometimes we hold hands for no reason at all,
Just like that for the fun of it all.

The Flight

Sunbeams fuel its awakening,
morning dew bathes,
noisy crickets promise to nourish.
It gazes at the new dawn,
wondering what it will hold.
Like a spring it snaps tight,
leaping into the void,
its feathery wings kissing the wind.
It soars, it leaps, it swerves and dives,
a tiny bird, leaving its nest
has taken on the mighty skies.

Pursuit of hapiness

it flashed, and in a blink, was gone,
but its essence hung in the air, floating, wafting,
like a wave washing the shores on my mind,
its sweetness, its purity, its calmness,
soaking the barren sands,
awakening in me a new life.
i feel a sense of peace, of well being,
i long for its to linger, or appear again,
your magic smile
a glimpse deep into your soul.

Distant Connects

Travelling for work can be a very lonely experience, locked in a cocoon of unfamiliarity, strange people, strange places, strange food, strange everything......
So one ends up making friends with the smaller joys that are otherwise overlooked.
Sitting on my hotel's window ledge I see the rain fall, pigeons flutter, freshly washed leaves sway under overcast shies....
These small small things are always familiar, always there, waiting patiently to catch your attention and remind you of home.
All one has to do is throw open the curtains and let them in....