LIFE -A Over stuffed Cupboard        



                                 Ignoring the capacity of drawers and shelves space

                                We think It has unlimited storage place         

                               We keep putting things in ever nook and corner

                               And one day when it can hold no more

                               Silently collapse leaving behind a scattered mess

                Then we realise nothing we stored was needed

                It was only our mindless hoarding

                May be because we had a place to keep

                We burnt our energy and valuable resources

                Just to satisfy our ego which always crave for more

                        This is how we look at life ,-a  Space

                       Filling it with unwanted feelings and emotions

                     Increasing unhappiness by not letting anything go

                    And when it is time to go we leave with a burden

                    Except a lucky few who kept the space uncluttered &pure

                Time   – “Is it real?” 


Watching the sunset that day my thoughts wandering

My focus on the beauty of ever changing fiery colors

Fascinated as always by the humble Sun

My friends happily enjoying their evening meal

Unaware that this was the last meal of this year

                 Next day duty bound the Sun rose at tbe same  time

                The chirpy friends at the window  at the same time

                I asked them what has changed in one night ?

                They said nothing else but  it is only human perception

                The nature is neither a slave nor it is bound

                Year end or begin is futile effort  to limit the limitless time


What one day end has changed in our lives ?

Still the poor of this world continue to suffer

Innocent people are being killed in the name of religion

Animals are being slaughtered for human pleasure

Million years may begin and come to an end

An year is just to bring order to the chaos of daily life

Only Love is the beginning and end for PEACE in our lives



             A visit from Life          

      Image courtesy  Magic- realism  Artist Suman Gupta (

The beauty of life is it’s silent path

There are no sign-posts no directions

Hardly any benchmarks set to look upon

No indicators to right or wrong

             Life is also the journey towards the end

             It is so mystic and so profound 

             It’s delicate existence can vanish anytime

             Without a trace or a warning or a sign

One day quietly IT (life) asked me to listen

I was let into the secret of my being

Be the reason of others happiness not pain

Be a reason of others laughter not tears

Be the light in others dark hours

And you will see my (life) radiance all around you



Today my morning friends triggered a thought

Who remembers you in their daily thoughts ?

The answer may not be what seems obvious

            For me they are my morning friends

            Everyday Silently they wait on window pane 

           What ever i give they accept happily

            And then we share a few moments of bliss

           They nibbling the grains and me sipping the coffee

           Then we part to meet again to watch the setting Sun

  You may forget the vendor who deliver the supplies

  He will remember you not for the business you give

  But for sharing his moments of joy and sorrows

  You may forget the old man on the street

  But he will remember you everyday 

   Enveloped in the warmth of blanket you gave

               You may be hugged or showered with loads of wishes

               By long list of family, friends and relatives 

                On your birthday or some other special days

                But small deeds done for strangers not for your gains

                Will give you the pleasure of being remembered everyday.

      16 Years of Mother.     

 .                      Today sixteen years ago I held a bundle of Joy in my arms for the first time.

                                   Dedicated to my mom who held me through those difficult times


                                                               Chaitanya my son my word
Love is the only master who teaches a Mom

And Instincts the only guide in bringing up her child

First year I learned to laugh and cry for no special reason

Sing the lullaby even when i knew i was hopeless singer

Second year taught me the joy of talking for the first time

And excitement of speaking whatsoever i feel like

Third year was full of all the actions

Which as an adult we don’t feel are right

           Fourth year i re-learned to draw and paint

           Not on the papers but walls and floors

           Fifth year i realized sitting for 5 minutes is a serious matter

           On top of it write A or counting 1-10 is not a joke

           Sixth and Seventh years were hardest of all

          As i could not understand the view of teachers

          Why for them home-work was so important

       Eight to tenth years was time for new revelations

       The exams and results were the two biggest enemies

       Cartoon and TV the best friends in whole of the world

       Eleventh to Thirteenth good food took a new meaning

        Mom’s love judged by anything junk on the plate

                   Fourteen and fifteen i hardly slept peacefully

                  The hair-style, clothes and friends were biggest problems

                  Study was the only bone of contention with the parents

                  Sixteenth year by far the hardest and the coolest of all

                 I know why to study but don’t know how to concentrate

                 When there are so many distractions all around

So far i enjoyed un-learning and re-learning many things

Coming years will get more excited then the roller-coaster

 But despite all the hardships ,worries and tensions

One warm HUG and a radiant smile on his face

Makes my world brighter than the warmth of the SUN


(Painting image courtesy .Artist Suman Gupta  )

A silence with a vibration of it’s own

All eyes looking at the door

Some patiently waiting

Some whispering to each other

Some excited to be meeting him first time

Long hair tied loosely

Eyes hidden by dark glasses

Smile illuminating the persona

He enters the room

Shattering the image of Guru

Disappointing many a few

He may hug you or shake hands with you

If you touch his feet he will bless you lovingly

He is not bound by the image of Guru

He may play cricket or crack a joke

He may play with a child

Sit with a teenager and share his concerns

He breaks all myths of a Guru

When he asks you what you want from me

For I can give you nothing and want nothing from you

He further shatters the Image

But that is only for people who can not see beyond

People who are sleep -walking and want to follow blindly

He is not for the followers who follow like a sheep,

He is like a flowing river who will let anyone in

But there are few who love him unconditionally

Those are the one who may find Mohanji

His simplicity of thoughts & path of pathlessness

His consciousness connect is so real

Even without being there with you he is with you

But he is not a Guru who preaches or teaches

Today I thank HIM for holding my hand

At the same time letting me explore

I am still a wanderer but with a difference

Now I am fearless maybe not hundred percent

But better than what i was before

Mohanji, simply Being in my life you have blessed me

And helped me to stay in NOW

     The Power of Circle


                              No one has the multi-dimensional power than our O,

                                It symbolizes the negative and the positive,

                               The life starts from it but The sentence ends with it,

                               Success is defined by it’z count on the right of 1,

                               But The students dread it in it’s unit form,

                              From Moon to  *Chappati it signifies perfection,

                              On Woman’s forehead it is symbol of elegance,

                              “OM” The powerful chant of SHIVA starts with O .

                     *The Indian bread






My Sister-The JOY of my life

The beauty of that radiant smile

Why it bring tears in my eyes?

May be it is the flow of gratitude 

To the Almighty for the strong bonding

She climbed the mountains 
Some snow-capped some lush green

She touched many a hearts in the path

Delicate, sweet with an elfin beauty

Not many could recognize her strong being

                     One day she feel in love with potter’s wheel

                     Her hands running around her imagination

                    The innocent clay moulding to perfection​

                    Expressing all her unspoken emotions.

                     It is no expectations which sets her apart

Her love of giving is like a river

Free flowing and abundant

She brought many a smiles and laughters

Tears of Joy and a sense of purpose

To the aimless lives of down trodden

She has nurtured the little ones in such a way

That Today they dare to dream to touch the sky

 And believe their dreams will come true one day.


While mostly people talk about the wordly famous but generally fail to acknowledge the work of their loved ones

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