The message

I wander through the crowds,
Tip toeing ahead,
Sometimes on the shore.
I might lose sight of you – but I am there, always – I promise.

The Prayer

A chance drive past a beautiful field…one fine day. The memory lingers…even while it gets washed with time.

Scenes from life

  Some stand tall, Others wait in the shadows. Everything changes, As time can swiftly show, The colors are right in front of you. It’s doesn’t really matter – stand tall, sit small, Tomorrow the colors will change for you too. (picture courtesy: Darshana Mathur)

‘And I made a rural pen…’

I have loved William Blake’s poem many times over – over the years, especially the last few lines: “And I made a rural pen,  And I stain’d the water clear, And I wrote my happy songs Every child may joy to hear.”  

The Book

The lines run into each other, the ink is musty in some places.
Some places make you smile and the others, heave a sigh of regret.
The pages that you read are of your own creation.

Two trees, time and tide

Praying quietly, we hoped. It was a little uncomfortable in the dark. And it was so moist. But we needed to be in that space – and so allowed it. I couldn’t see my friend – though I tried hard to squint through the darkness.

Ode to Marine Drive

Recently, my friend shared a beautiful piece on the ocean by Wilferd A. Peterson, an American author. It brought back so many memories of Marine Drive and the gorgeous Arabian sea.

The story of confusion, chaos & wonder

Then began the hail! And how! Loud rumbling sounds emerged, the wind suddenly seemed to have gained momentum and everything started flying – with an increased onslaught of rain inside Yagyashala.

I Hope You Dance

Some words can really light you up and keep resonating long after the music is gone. My sister, Darshana, shared the lyrics of a fabulous song – I Hope You Dance.

The 7 sisters policy…

Somehow the story stayed with me and years later, I ended up informally implementing a seven-sister policy at office where …

Sweet Revenge

And as I looked over my shoulder – hoping it didn’t attract any attention – I saw the familiar sight that my heart longed to see everyday.

My Master & Me

In this journey towards the Self,
All that remains is my master and me.