The Fisherman
In the Luit

From the nebulous light of a new day
Surfaced a silhouette
Of a sinewy man with a stoop. 
His moth-eaten wooden canoe was 
Moored on the edge of the white floodplain.

Read the whole poem
Published in Better than Starbucks.Link:

Springtime in Assam


Fragrant Togor blooms galore(Gardenia).*

In Tawang

Published in Indian Literature, Sahitya Akademi, New Delhi.

In Tawang

Through roadless routes I had traversed,

A gutty drive on an off-roader under rocks spilling waterfalls;

Braved landslides and shootings stones;

To arrive at Tawang

In search of my Shangri La.

Every revered and famous spot I did visit

Breathing in a spellbound sigh

As we all do 

When Nature’s plethora

Demands of us to behold her in awestruck wonder.

Every named and unnamed lane did I walk,

Paid homage at each monastery and statue,

Hearkened to the centuries old words of the monks.

Read the age old books preserved in the libraries.

And attended the prayer service of the priests.

Still, my heart pined for Shangri La—

Where gaiety mitigated tears,

Where beauty captivated to bloom blissful in my heart.

Where the devil feared to cast his evil eye

Because love divine reigned supreme in every soul.

Where truth could overpower the naysayer.

Where my senses could soak in the goodness of life.

And then, 

I heard peals of laughter across the rugged ranges,

Gamboling and gliding; dipping and rising,

Like the musical notes of a maestro.

And sweeter than the sweetest bird song.





Was their sparkling laughter saturated with. 

Touching me 

Like a breath of breeze on a sultry Indian summer day.

Their small bodies, clothed in rough homespun maroon sarongs,

Vibrated with mirth.They were

Little  wish-fulfilling lanterns floating in the air.

Like fireflies, their mischievous eyes lit and danced.

Their sunburnt smiling faces crinkled,

Ready to bubble forth droll declarations.

I knew then that I had found my Shangri La—

In the melody the tiny monks

As they jumped up and down,

Smiled and laughed, blowing  flying kisses at me.

Their happiness elevated my spirit lickety-split.

My search had ended.

Time stood still,

As our souls  reached out to connect,

Smile in sublime union for long, sacred moments.

All too soon it was time 

To bid adieu.

As I waved them goodbye,

I contemplated—

Yes, we humans had once known how to laugh

With spontaneous heartiness, 

Without any expectations.

We were humane once.

I moseyed my way back,

Euphoric that the enshroud fortune 

I had ventured out in search of

In my trip to Tawang 

Was unveiled for me.


Heartfelt thanks to Brigadier P.K. Jaiswal for extending his warm hospitality in making our journey to Tawang memorable.



From the collection :Nature Poems.

—-the tumeric flower 

an excerpt:

I ambled around in the early hours

To join the birds as they greeted 

A newborn day with ardour;

When, through the corner of my eyes

A stunning sight

In the kitchen garden

Claimed my undivided attention. 

Camouflaged in three feet tall

Paddle-like leaves

Funnelled out from their bracts

Velvety, firm, fair-petaled flowers 

Rimmed with lilac pink.

Deeper down the conical  blooms

Concealed from the careless eye, nestled

Golden florets in tiny leafy cups. …….

—-noon, 23rd October,2019.********




Tumeric root


From the volume: Lost in Laitkor

Laitkor musings, Shillong, 23rd September 2017.

This moment

Doodling on my pink poetry notebook

In our ‘Pine Crest’ in Laitkor,

My attention is arrested

By the compelling view outside my window-

A canopy of pine needles

Strung spiderweb-like,

Ivory pearls of dew

Lace the twigs.

The distant impenetrable forest

Is home to the jackals

Who howl long and loud

In the hushed, numbing nights.

In the morning, from my bedroom window

My eyes seek the old steel-blue cathedral.Where

Mother Mary stands beauteously

With her palm raised patiently

To bless all.

My glance drifts across the city of Shillong

Which rises in the upland

Beyond the undulating pine hills.

Afar, are the virgin peaks

In shades of azure and green,

A trail of clouds mushroom and frolic,

Dip and dance

Between the houses

Between the hills

Between the sky and the earth.

And at night,

Life continues in all its complacency

As electric lights glitter and sparkle

More brightly than the faraway stars

Which twinkle dimly and fade away.



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