The Watchers

A rhythm that only I can hear

I dance now, flitting along the border of decorum

Always the eyes watching me;

A call that only I can hear

I jump and run barefoot

The feel of the dew refreshing to my tired heels

Always the eyes watching me;

A song that only I can hear

I laugh with joy and crinkle my eyes

Always the eyes watching me;

A cry that only I can hear

And so I gather them to me and hug and love them

Always the eyes watching me;

Cynosure that only I can hear

And so I let go of dancing, running, laughing and loving

Always the eyes watching me.


Her kohl rimmed eyes danced over her glass

An impish expression lit them

And she spun circles around the minds of men;

They were drawn in, all of them

By the cheeky grin and her insouciant, almost irreverent chatter;

Uncertain laughter on their lips as they discovered themselves wanting

Facile homilies being uttered and passed as quick wit then

To catch her nimble brain

They ran hard and gasped for breath and looked up

Why were her eyes still dancing?

And so it began, all over again

The hunt.

For the Mother in the Orphanage

She had a loud laugh that made people nearby cringe

A booming voice that commanded attention

A big girth that demanded space everywhere

People rolled their eyes when she jostled past them

What a waste of a person, they would say

As they watched her clutch all the bags of food around

Screaming at those trying to push her out of the way;

And a hundred children hugged her  and loved her

Her big heart grew every day encompassing all with love

And the bigger her heart, the bigger she was

This Mother Hen.

Touching base with myself

Readers of this blog may have noted that after a recent flurry of activity, I have not posted anything for around 10 days (or more). Well, the reason for that is quite simple, I have been travelling to the most beautiful locales here in South India and meeting such extra-ordinary people on the way. I am so humbled at the generosity and simplicity that are corner stones here for most South Indians. In the cities, unfortunately, we have lost touch with our basic human principles – that of living a life rather than just running around being busy.

I took the time to wander the hills, watch the most beautiful sunrises and sunsets, to laugh aloud, and to learn something new.

Like learning about dinosaurs, a species that my four year old adores.


Aren’t they majestic creatures?

Taking the time to stroll through the most beautiful rose garden, that had more than a hundred varieties growing. And blooming.


Drinking a hot cup of Chai from a stall vendor while the wind rushed past my face and played truant with my hair.

And I found myself, after wandering through those places.

I realised that I have to live everyday, savour it, love it and adore it. Every breath I take is a gift and wasting it on regrets, what ifs, past mistakes made is just my excuse not to live. It’s my prop to blame each time I get disappointed.

I prayed, a lot. And in prayer, I found peace and strength of mind. I read, a lot. And in the reading, I found ways in which I could make improvements.

It’s been a wonderful ten days for me. And I feel blessed that I was able to have this experience.