They called their land ‘Mother’
And even ‘Mother’ they called their seas
‘The Ganga’, ‘The Saraswati’
They made the rivers female
...
A Poet can Only Capture
I know not what to write!
Grim faces show and fade,
...
In the dewy spring mornings
He walked with her
Through the wild gardens,
Chasing butterflies.
...
White pearls dangle
In your tender ears.
In between the silky hair
The rosy twig ears
...
It was a time we played together
You and me and our peer pals.
I waited, desperate in the sterile afternoons
To hear the trilling bell of your old bicycle
...
When he was a child,
He put a tiny stone
Into a silent pond,
That made ripples,
...
Oh dancing Harappan girl
Your sudden waking up
From the millenniums of oblivion
Couldn’t break our pride and empty wit,
...
With the smell of clay
And taste of sweat, he toils.
When his spade scoops a piece of earth’
It sends shudders through my nerves,
...
The Final Call
The final call has come
Out from the woods,
...
There was a time, my son,
Wild parrots shrieked
And koels sang from the groves
To wake the humans from sleep,
...