Presenting my collection of amateur rhymes suited to a host of images that had, once upon a time, made my mind chatter endlessly!
Turbulence defines me
It emanates in the sea
And while turbulence I be
The steady water I see
It winds around, joyous and glee
It teaches finding a path where free
Now in this new tenacious stability
And between the ripples and the silent sea
Balance, I find thee.
Now, it’s the warrior defining me.
-DH, on yoga by the ocean
The calm sea, before the storm brews
“How feisty!” murmur even the shrews
Childlike wonderment and yet wisely aware
I am all the drama one needs; I am a play, stare.
What do you see,
When you look at me?
See my mind, I tell thee.
What would you get, objectifying me?
Talk to me, listen, that is the key.
Argue, converse, challenge me.
I could destroy you, but bear with me;
Be a man, like I can be.
Staying within the four walls?
Not confinement, I say.
Braving the weather outside?
To each their own
In the moment, stay.
I have this, my happy place;
I stay in and wander away.
A world beyond
The scapes that surround
She looked with dreamy eyes.
Her struggle though
She looked away, steeling her life.
It’s always today
Just for tomorrow
Selfish, at times, even cold.
A momentary lapse
In the today for her tomorrow
Forced her to write the psychedelic an ode.
As baby steps she took.
The experiences she had,
She was glad.
This was the city that helped her craft;
The first to the many starts.
-DH, on Boston
A long week past,
A longer week ahead.
To work that lasts,
While stories are shared.
To home away from home and
Similarity in difference.
It’s a paradox, my friend.
It’s a transient smile while on the fence.
It’s experiences you never think you’ll have.
It’s growing up, while you already feel old.
It’s the quiet in the bustle you can nab.
It’s about today, though you work for tomorrow’s gold.
You think it’s a blank stare
You think she wouldn’t dare
But she sees the bigger picture
She believes she isn’t the preacher.
You think she’s lost
You think it didn’t cost
But she knows what she had to do
She knows it more than you.
It’s not blank
It’s a reverie
It’s not naivety
It’s the momentary
It’s a break
It’s to make
It’s for the whole from a piece
It’s a breath, please
It’s the race against the norm
It’s the quiet before the storm.
If I look beyond I see,
I wonder what might I find?
The future, so unpredictable
Or the past that I left behind?
If I ask you to look through my eyes,
Do I mean, “step in my shoes”?
Or to peek inside the product
Of the fate with whom I called it a truce?
Many lives I’ve seen around me
Many nastier than mine
So shall I complain
Or thank the divine?
But there doesn’t exist a soul, I believe.
It’s all the self-awareness that breeds.
Look, you’ll see!
It’s always you, it’s always me.
I still need idlis and dosas,
I still need the Sunday Carnatic.
It’s the violin that forms my lullaby,
The kaapi that makes me tick.
It’s the potu that makes me feminine,
The mayee that makes my eyes pop.
It’s the nine yards that I’ll adorn one day
That’ll make someone’s heart stop.
I speak Tamil but am from Kerala,
The best of both worlds, if you may.
I’m southern in my heart and mind,
Home’s where Amma-Appa stay!
Happy brewing, happy reading! 🙂