Words

Between a stress and a sigh Before you say goodbye Much before you feel all alone In between long pauses on telephone I wish I could say I miss you everyday Between my fingers I felt  No matter how tightly I held Your touch lingered long past midnight Spelling the aura so bright I wish I could say You were with me yesterday Sketching the rosy days ahead Countless times I've said Distance burgeons the love Smoothening the edges somewhat rough But I wish I could stay Much close to you every single day Read between unspoken lines You'll find thousand signs Many kisses resting on your blue shirt Walls of bedroom echoing my words I wish You to say  You waiting for me every single day

When things go wrong, as they often will, When the traffic you were building, goes downhill, When the stats are low and the spams are high, And you want to write for contests, but you have to sigh, When schedule is pressing you down a bit - You must blog, don't you quit. Life is crazy with work and more work, As my regular readers must have learnt, Few of the fellas have turned around, You see, my comment section is hit by some sort of drought. Don't give up, Saru ; numbers will eventually grow - Remember you were doing 'Ok' just a few months ago. I read my favorite blogs often, I stress, It seems I'm unable to comment on Wordpress; Often I struggle to keep up pace, My 3G works as 2G and net is out in space; Social Network presence too have drowned, How I curse slow net for losing ground. Success is failure turned inside out - Frankly, right now I'm having doubts, And you never can tell how creatively orphan

I liked everything to be perfect, Until one day I found. Some poems don’t rhyme, Some words don’t weigh,       And some smiles always fade. Unlike some happy faces, These lips are now closed. Drowned in the flood of tears, They lost their abode. Can I curse him? For leaving me in the lurch. Without even saying a word, Abandoned me in this never ending search. A plateau of concrete, Has his name with 'dates.' Symphonies created by his memory, Play low-key on my fate. Each morning I bathe myself, Then walk bare-feet, muddling my toes. Inching towards my place of solace, I decorate his name with a rose. *Based on a story of a war widow and is published in the book 'Rousing Cadence'

Of Greek Gods and Goddesses, And many ancient sites. Where first few chapters of history began, Of shinning armor and handsome knights. Lit in vivid hues, pure - mostly white, Greece - An absolute delight! * * * Boats parked on coastline, Sun kissed beaches with light breeze. Rugged mountains spelling marvel, Roads lined with Olive trees. An evening in Santorini , 2 full days in Crete , Greece - A charming feat! * * * Cradle of Civilization,  An archeological feast. On the backdrop of whitewashed houses, A rare combination of modern and obsolete. A cruise on the sea, walk along the beach, Mykonos , Delphi - Heavens within your reach. * * * In the highs of Meteora ,  Where in thin air religion swells, Or in the lanes of Athens , Where history dwells. Acropolis , Agora , Parthenon and Ancient Theatre, Greece - With age vistas turned sweeter. * * * Trave

With ‘Hair Play’, first flash of image in front of eyes is of a well groomed lady, playing Hopscotch with her hair open and every passerby admiring her gorgeous tresses. How totally mesmerizing it would be, if we girls could just live and more importantly, play with our hair in a rhythmic manner, just like bouncing on Hopscotch steps. One, three; skip a beat with two, Countless heads turn as I sway. Roll it in my finger, tuck it behind my ears, And I let my hair play. Dazzling after the Sunday wash, Clutch it during work, smelling like a fresh bouquet. Three, four; more awe for the luster, And I let my hair play. Neatly plaided in French style, Chit-chatting, merry-making in a Cafe. Four, six; more compliments for the look, And I let my hair play. Tie a messy bun perhaps , Or sport a pony tail on a holiday. Six, seven; chick yet clean, And I let my hair play. Audrey Hepburn’s hairdo, Flaunting a beaded band made of crotchet. Nine

Maddening rush Keeping pace with 9 to 5 A lot we miss under the sun A lot to keep awake at late night How far we shall bear? How much we will sacrifice? Life is not a complex labyrinth But a long long drive… A sip of chai with your love Hide and Seek with your child Listening to your Dad's old wisdom A return smile when a stranger smiled It won't cost us money It will bring twinkle in our eyes Life is not a complex labyrinth But a long long drive… Burn midnight oil growing up Slog to keep up in the race Miss all in unwanted seriousness Nothing of it, we will take to our graves Why drench in overloaded clamor? Why we over-surmise? Life is not a complex labyrinth But a long long drive… I watched this documentary on Chief Official White House Photographer, Pete Souza and stumbled upon this interesting part where President Obama tells ’Why we shouldn’t take life too seriously’ in reference to a picture which was displayed i