Café au lait moments…


café au lait moments
frothy, bittersweet and creamy
flavored in variegated thoughts
peppered in sugar granules
blending with moody coffee spoonfuls

~are whispers of a carefree youth
when thoughts hopscotched
through redolent sunshine
and rain-song laced rainbows,

playing peek-a-boo through oriels
of intrigue and adventure,
casting dices in virgin oblivion
to challenge uncertain fate,

letting versicolor balloons
kiss austere and cornflower horizons
like myriads of potpourri emotions
scattering themselves–

their shades
painted o’er bland chiaroscuro
of mixed feeling existence
~a dusk frozen within
a bubble of time.

caffeine is
a calligraphy of hues,
it breathes fragrance in sinews
of a drab chequered verses
born of juvenile imaginations,
filling freshness
within drooping eyelids
of long, languid hours…


Amnesic Anecdotes Scented in Caffeine



tongue scalded
by an absent-minded sip
I bit back both cry and curse,
and gulped down brew
both unsweetened and angry,
aroma rising with
steaming plumes to flavor
a surreal moment
gestating with tension
and anticipation witnessed
by demitasse fragilities,
when two individuals
talked nuptial affiliations
over coffee~
trying to forge a relation
between strangers
who remained as such.



Cramming unseen chapters
from unfamiliar volumes~
never cajoled in
careless overconfidence,
on the night before final tests,
befriended by adrenaline
and caffeine in overdose,
left eyes red-rimmed,
pulse racing to compete with
electric shuttle or rocket launcher,
mind like scrambled eggs,
fireflies within my rib-cage
~fluttering and burning,
while I blankly stared
at questions refusing
to be answered.



Within my pocket
were some crumpled notes
and wilted longings,
after a weekend of splurging
I could ill afford,
yet a glow-sign beckoned
with aromatic promise,
‘Madras Café’
and I entered to lavish
the last of my money
for a taste of famous filter coffee,
made from fresh beans,
unlike its instant cousin,
insipid and limpid.



Forced to drink
an obnoxious excuse
pantomiming as coffee,
pouring from faceless machine
in coughed out measly dribbles
to rejuvenate
tired sighs of routine drudgery,
I oft carried pouches
of coffee granules
to polish tarnished smiles
and erase lethargy’s shadows,
unable to stomach
the free tasteless brew offered
in the guise of coffee.



Over shared
coffee and camaraderie,
on a soggy monsoon evening,
we relived memories
of another time and place,
within a bubble of oblivion
nostalgia adding a glimmer
to echoing laughter,
as new memories
were formed to embellish
a dishwater existence.

Memories of Blackberries…





their sweet-sour, tangerine flavor,
still lingers on my tongue, no longer dyed
in eager gluttony of naiveté

girl blue sky



as eyes lost in infinite azure, read
thoughts perched as praying mantis
on foliage’s palms-
travelling trail of forgotten reminiscences.

reborn, with a look at shriveled arms,
of a dying sentinel, gnarled, twisted
standing as a frozen sigh,
pleading unto cerulean heavens


as half dried leaves taste autumn’s bane
in monsoon’s season, of rejuvenation
insipid blackberries are tasted by cicadas,
or left to stink in downpours.





thoughts’ pastels paint sepia realms, of a memory,
of another tree laden with juicy blackberries,
whose flavor blended, in my lost childhood
blurring my eyes, at plight
for this unfamiliarly familiar tree…





Eulogies to the Forgotten…



within scaling crusts
from oft ignored arms
of silent benevolence,
flimsy roots spread
as octopus tentacles,
struggling for survival:

sapping vitality
from dying sinews
of antiquity, lost
within misty recollections
of frenzied storms of old-

to blossom into
vibrant hues,
breathing exotic scents
and wearing
with panache,

illusion of unsullied
dewy, innocence-
unknown to callous life.



alabaster skin peels off
as cheap acrylics,
revealing hidden blemishes
for world to sneer at,
yet elegant complacence
endures, under
sun’s scorching critique-

of tainted presence,
sparse foliage;
dancing to rhythm
of taunting winds,
in tranquil contentment
of life’s little pleasures.

3.Penaga lily

penaga lily

familiar trees that stood
lining serpentine path,
of gravel and puddles
to my homestead

with satin leaves
of roseate pink
like sea shell’s bellies,
kissed by virgin rays
of vermilion dawn-
turning green with age;

and sublime flowers
rancid yet gay,
with gaudy yawns,
thick olive foliage
seldom dry, of
whimsical raindrops,

echoing with
sparrows’ chirps,
and cuckoo’s songs;
adorned my childhood
in delight’s confetti-
always reminiscent
to me

as nascent, first love
in nature’s boudoir.



green, sweet-sour,
tangy and shiny-smooth,
bit with gluttonous delight
to savor, with water
turned paradoxically sweet,

collected in stained kerchiefs
oblivious to gritty palms,
sweaty brows, skinned knees
treasured in bulging pockets;
bite of delight
at times turned into
grimace, when greed
plucked raw bitterness,

paying the price
for impatience,
and selfish indifference-
inherent of juvenile

5.Touch Me Not


dewy, luxuriant leaves
furl in silent subservience,
fading into insignificance
at subtle brush,
of trampling juggernaut-

concocting illusion
of terrified cowardice:
an instrument of survival
against the unsurmountable-

to savor sprinkled
sips, of sunlight’s manna
stroking insatiable egos
of approaching trouble,
to bask in breeze’s kisses.

6.China Rose

china rose

those cheery blossoms
of scarlet and fuschia,
grinning in sweltering heat
or rainy downpours,

resplendent with smiles
at gloomiest of hours,
enthroned on straggling arms
of olive foliage,
rightfully, queen of topics;

left a song echoing
on heart strings,
strummed with
invisible fingers of joy,

-a contagious rapture
of being alive,
and celebration of
elusive blessing of life.


flamboyant tree

tree with gigantic boughs
a canopy of frond-like foliage
with refulgent peacock flowers

colors of phoenix’s plumage,
autumn’s frills, twilight’s wink
and dawn’s yawn;

frozen on redolent flowers,
reminiscent of school life
-long leather-bound
in memories’ albums,

that wither to quilt,
bosom of unrevered earth,
with fragrant gratitude:

for selfless love,
nurturing warmth,
eternal nourishment,
throughout life.

8. Harsinghars


white and saffron
blended in loving hymeneals
of daylight and moonbeams
at variegated twilight,

scented in wistful hopes
of a perfumed spring day, to bask
in fragrant verses of
night jasmine long withered
on dawn’s threshold in reverence.

they are like dreams
that wilt with rising sun
and are left forgotten
lost within sepia realms
of bittersweet memories.

strung into garlands,
or just picked and showered
on moments of morning,
they together remain
even after years a cherished
reminiscence of backyard trysts.

Remembering You Over Cappuccinos…



on moonlit winter nights
when absurdities of chilled raindrops
tapper on corrugated rooftops,
as insistent knuckles
fraying the linen of flimsy silence,
on bittersweet demitasse nights.
cold shivers tapestry
my trembling solitudes in goosebumps,
snuggled within fleece quilts
of piquant cappuccino aromas peppered
in sugar granule memories,
I indulge in your reminiscences.


cocoa giggles salted on mocha mirth,
treacle smiles lace fluid lips
mingling sugar in peppermint laughters,
shared sips like emblazoned kisses
exchanged on the brims of fragile china,
twin straws and huddled faces of togetherness
over iced cappuccinos in frothy coronas,
baked festivities of cookies
flavored in coffee are like crisp dawns
of winter emerging as scented butterflies
from the oblivion of chrysalis-night~
are now sepia tinted recollections.

cappuccino and cookies

you are to me my morning coffee~
your scent rejuvenating my lethargies,
as blind fingers caressing
your latte-silk skin,
relearn hourglass contours as braille
our love story is camaraderie,
caffeine-scented laughters echoing warmth
a blend of passion and vitality
like simmering sips of mocaccinos
and today on this bland night
tasting like stale dredges
of yesterday’s leftover coffee,
I relive our long lost tale of love
gathering you in faded thoughts
like scooped withered molts of fall…


Adieu of Paper Roses


miming sculpted delights of nature
satin lips and angels’ breath,
smiling in ribbon-tied bouquet
in variegated rapture,
colors never seen in real roses.

exquisitely fashioned with
fingers matching mind’s vision,
titivated with crepe, tissue and satin,
adorned in sparkles and beads,
with rich perfume for redolent breath
they smiled in radiant delight.

my last parting gift for you
who taught me to love flowers
‘never pluck a flower’ you said ,
‘flowers inspire and spread bliss,
as nature’s poetry sprinkling hues
in drab existence, adding fragrance
to smoke-choked air.’

roses replenish dried palettes of Iris
as he paints rainbows,
lending hues to brush of Eos and Hespera.

as I bid you a sad adieu
your casket strewn in fragrance,
to embark on a journey to the unknown
I remember your love for flowers,
so no fresh, dewy roses for you,
from weeping boughs,
but paper roses made to simulate
flowers you loved abloom
in verdant embrace.

paradoxically I bid farewell
to a gardener with paper roses…

Caffeine Saga


aroma of freshly brewed coffee,
leads me gently by the hand;
as some old, long lost friend
down  cobwebby alleys
of antiquated memories,
or faded from mind’s canvas.

like rose petals
desiccated within yellowed diaries,
a faint redolence lingering steadfastly,
I reminiscence, memories pouring in;
as sunlight peeps through blinds at dawn.

I recall mother’s frothy coffee
the perfect blend of sugar and caffeine,
concocted with love
to warm, refresh, rejuvenate.

I recall shared thoughts with father
over a relaxed cup of coffee,
exhaustion melting with
smell of coffee in nostrils!
heat froze on icy glass of cold coffee
with dashes of vanilla ice-cream.

awkwardness evaporated friendship evolved
in midst of coffee  sweating or steaming in mugs;
every slogged hour of exams/p>
was befriended by strong coffee,
oh! the endless saga
of my friendship with coffee…