Sugar

You call me 'Sugar'.

You, like the ever-adaptive water,
flow along what life gives;
Turning your course when life demands.

Oh you don't know how much I cherish that !

And I go after you wherever you go.

And I follow you to the mountains.
And I chase you to the seas.
Hand in hand, we wander.
And we watch the soft breeze.
And we smell the flowers bloom.
And we listen to songs of chirpy birds,
Or so we presume.

And in you, I am lost.

And then spring leaves.
And ordinary creeps in;
And the birds don't chirp anymore,
And thunder and lightening begin;

I wake up and look at you.

Oh so sweet a face!
I swear I have never seen.
These eyes! This look!
Oh and that grin!

Oh you don't know how much I cherish that !

And I glance carelessly
At the distant mirror-
But I see nothing-No face.
Nothing. Not even a blur.

And I look at you sitting there,
With your sweet sweet face.
And i look back at the mirror,
And i don't exist there- No trace!

And then you say it again.

"Sugar".

And it all makes sense.

In you, I am lost.

Our Adventure is not over yet

In Search of Poetry

One fine evening, as I picked my pen;
And turned the pages -
I wondered what to write about.


I thought I’d write about the blue skies;
The lush greens that house the butterflies-
The ocean deeps – the mountain highs-
The abundance that overwhelms human eyes.

But all of it felt too divine
For this mere poetry of mine.


Then the idea crossed my mind-
To write about the instances unkind;
The lack of empathy that’s engulfing mankind-
A few selfish people pulling the country behind.

But as I looked around myself,
These verses did not do much help.


So I thought; why not write
About my lovely day so bright-
The tricky ventures that went alright;
How we survived hundred-and-eighteen Fahrenheit!

But as I went into more details,
Words just appeared to fail.


Puzzled, disappointed and dismayed,
I looked where my paper laid.
Ah! A new revelation had been made-
Poetry had already found its way.


And then it finally dawned upon me-
What I was trying to find so acutely;
Nothing mattered- the subject or its beauty-
The music was within me. I was the poetry.