When Goodbye Refused to End The pain of departure is a sunset that forgets to go dark,A moment ended, yet glowing inside me like a hidden ember.We leave like rivers torn from their banks, still tasting the shore,A part of us reaching back, like a hand refusing the night. Goodbye arrives soft as breath on […]
Still Here, Still Yours Read More »
Us, at Dawn Morning comes the way your touch lingers on my skin, calm and gentle, afraid to wake the pain we keep between us. Light moves through my doubts like your touch, careful, aware of how fragile I am. As night loosens its long hold, your nearness teaches my lungs to breathe again. The
Mother: Our First Home
A mother’s love is the first home we ever know,
And the last place our heart will ever go.
She holds our hand for just a little while,
But holds our hearts through every mile.
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Together, we walk towards the gates of a palace that breathes and listens. It is alive, as if it has grown from our longing. Ruby light spills across its stones, each shaped by the quiet fire of our love, polished by all the moments we dared to believe in forever. The doors do not wait
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When Death Spoke to Life Death once asked Life,“Why do they run toward you,and turn their faces from me?” Life lowered its eyes and said,“Because I dress myself in promises.I whisper tomorrow.I let them believe there is time.” “And you?” Death asked. “I arrive,” said Death,“without lies.I take nothing that was not already fragile.” They
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A Quiet Reflection At dusk, the mud road lies empty.I have walked it many times,barefoot once, hurried later, and slowly now. A jeep passes.Its sound is rough, brief.For a moment, dust rises,as if the road itself has something to say. Then the jeep is gone.The dust settles.The road becomes what it always was. This is
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A Quiet Reflection When the village sleeps,I notice things I never did when I was young. In my younger days, nights were filled with plans.Work. Worries. Tomorrow.Now, when the house grows quiet,I sit and listen. The palm leaves still move in the dark.They have been there longer than me.They have seen many people come and
When the Village Sleeps Read More »
Moon, Keep Our Secret Oh! Gentle moon that keeps our vigil bright,You lean so close to hear our whispered flame;Please guard these vows you gathered through the night,And seal them safe from morning’s curious name. Do not betray the warmth upon our skin,Nor spill the hush that learned our secret tone;Do not let the sun
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The Child Who Held the Night My sahib is Rajendra Singh, IPS.In this colony his name is spoken softly, like a warning.To me, he is the man whose house I serve and whose sleep I guard. “Power slept deeply. I was not allowed to.” His wife, Sunita Singh, taught me fear in small lessons.Not every
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Kerala – The Place Where My Breath Learned to Be Slow I was born where the earth stays green,Like a promise that never learned to fade.At the southern edge of the waking sun,Where the sea hummed lullabies at night. Monsoon rains arrive like old friends,Thunder speaks, lightning dances the sky,Rivers swell, and the earth drinks
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