My hands are always soiled with mud,
And each one looks the same as the other 
In my large extended family, spread as far as Earth itself.

It is cool down here,
A silent, calming darkness
Where I know not when I am asleep or awake.

But sometimes I grow weary of this black stillness.
My world is a hushed secret,
Where the occasional wriggle of an insect creates a buzz.

Will I ever see the world outside,
Or is it as dark as my own?

I think not.

For, the leaves had told me once
That there is light above this underground
Where a Sun shines.

And one day had the trunk nervously whispered to me ,
That it is hard to meet eyes with the Sun.
But that doesn’t worry me much,
As I can only feel, and my vision is blurred.

But do I really want to face the world outside
Leaving my cozy place underneath?

I think not.

For, my ears are made for hearing the silence,
My veins find comfort running in the dark,
And I can feel alive only in this world
Under the ground.

  • Pakhi


I pride myself on being lush and green,
As some farms, I have seen, have withered away.

When I am too stiff of sitting still,
I call upon the winds to ruffle me up.
And I raise my thousand hands and sway,
As if swaying towards eternity.

And when the rains too arrive,
My joy knows no bounds
And I sway and sway, never to cease.

As the rain adorns me,
It looks like tears of joy that stream down
And rest on the ground,
Nourishing me still.

But the water blurs my sight, I feel,
As I am unable to locate the sun in the sky.
Or is it the clouds keeping me from the light?

Well, it is not too long that I have to wait,
As the sun too can’t help but add
A little shine to my lavish life.

But the scarecrow in the midst doesn’t seem to be amused.
And I wonder how his expression remains unchanged – as if dead –
In this weather that can bring life
To the most lifeless of things!

Perplexed, I leave the scarecrow be,
And again sit to rest, to brood and muse,
About how I am so lush and green.

  • Pakhi


I have heard shadows whisper in the dark.
Or is it my imagination?
Or both – I do not know.
For I just hear what I hear.

I have heard my heartbeat, just sometimes,
And it feels strange, I do not know why,
As if it wasn’t there before.

I have heard my mind speak,
So much that it doesn’t seem to grow silent.
Why does my own mind’s voice sometimes annoy me so?
I do not know why.

After all this random ramble,
I wonder what I truly know.
And what I truly know,
Is only what I’ve heard.

  • Pakhi


Lovingly, oh so lovingly,
Do the sun rays touch my face
And a warmth deeply embraces my skin – never to let go.

Lovingly, oh so lovingly,
Does  the breeze wrap me in her gentle arms
And I close my eyes and sway with the arrhythmic rhythm.

Lovingly, oh so lovingly,
Does the earth hold my feet from without
As if pressing her soft fingers within, ever so gently.

Lovingly, oh so lovingly,
Does the rain pour over me
And I am soaked in a soothing tenderness.

I wonder but in vain
Whether another can  replicate such fondness
And that too – Oh, so lovingly?

  • Pakhi


Why is it that I have to resist
What sounds the most alluring,
What feels the most inviting,
What looks the most charming,
To settle for something clearly unappealing?

And bewildered do I wonder,
Why, a temptation so tempting
Should I resist?

And so my feeble self helplessly yields…

  • Pakhi


I was gliding through the waters,
To where, I did not seem to know – 
Wherever the invisible currents led me to,
Wherever water wanted me to flow.

At a distance I saw a shrimp too small,
And though I was satiated, I thought,
“One little shrimp won’t do any harm.”
So I sped towards what my eyes had caught.

As I aimed towards the shrimp,
Something sharp slid right through my mouth.
Was this the shrimp’s defense
Evolved to a level which I did not know of? – I doubt!

But these thoughts left my confused mind
As I was jerked out of water.
I felt so unnatural and helpless,
As if in another world, no less than a blur.

I yearned to go back
To the seamless, endless sea,
But saw no way to return to the world
Where moments ago I was gliding free.

But just before I suffocated to death,
I heard someone say, “Isn’t this fishing season pleasant?”
And a hope emerged – maybe I will find more like myself,
Gliding through the endless heavens…

  • Pakhi


As I drift towards sleep
Which is not easy to achieve,
I think of things which I will do and places where I will be.

Stupidly I smile with the sheets drawn up to my neck
And enjoy the one moment before everything seems distant,
And the simplest of things unachievable.

I fail to reckon if this helplessness
Is just a pre – sleep affair,
Or am I missing things which have not yet happened…

  • Pakhi


By enduring the icy chill outside,
My hands are bare and cold.
I yearn for that little sunshine
With shades of yellow and gold.

As winter lays lousy layers of laziness,
A little sunshine is a treasure – 
The only one I can find in the open,
The only one with no measure.

As winters lie ahead, cold and unforgiving,
The sunshine lays a hand of motherly touch.
And even though my eyes crinkle as I look up,
I don’t mind this sunshine much!

  • Pakhi


As lips stretch into what seems like a mile,
This is one smile that I love to smile.
If you have something in mind
Which could elicit a hearty smile,
Do say it, waste no time!
For only such a thing is worthwhile,
And the rest is just colourless all the while…

  • Pakhi


I sit and stare and wonder if,
Emotions had an aromatic whiff.

Then fear would be pungent and cold,
Ans sadness – a blue blueberry blend.
Jealousy would be an unmistakable burn,
And anger-boiling milk to which I forgot to attend.

But the sweetest aroma would definitely be,
Of love and happiness – a strong caramel-y!

  • Pakhi