For the Love of Chocolate

Midnight’s bittersweet child,
Ambrosia from Paradise,
Harbinger of innumerable pleasures,
Enticing the senses beyond measure.

The smoothest criminal in history,
Unleashing a revolution culinarily,
The favorite of entire generations,
The star of many celebrations.

A soft silkiness that melts readily,
Fruity, caramel, nutty and earthy,
Even a whiff of it is magical,
A bouquet of aromas paradoxical.

Messenger of unspoken emotions,
There’s one for every occasion.
Tempting to every type of palate –
All this, is a piece of chocolate!

Incomplete

I have wings
But without the flowing winds,
I am incomplete.

I have eyes
But without the glowing light,
I am incomplete.

I have a mind
But without the Divine guide,
I am incomplete.

I have a heart
But without a true-blue confidant,
I am incomplete.

I have words
But without a quill and paper,
I am incomplete.

It would seem
That I am incomplete
Without the world around me.

Could it also be that the world
Is a bazillion-piece puzzle
That’s incomplete without me?

There’s a Choice…Always!

In our lives, we always have a choice to make.
Every moment brings with it an array of options.
We become what we choose from them to take.

Every wish, every dream that keeps us awake
Can be brought to existence by our own actions.
In our lives, we always have a choice to make.

We can’t decide when the Sun rises at daybreak,
But the dawn brings chances without questions.
We become what we choose from them to take.

Even when we feel we have made a mistake,
We can make amends after some reflections.
In our lives, we always have a choice to make.

It’s our life after all, and we are the ones at stake.
The world offers a Pandora’s box of passions.
We become what we choose from them to take.

With every little shove that seems like a quake,
We can either give up or reshape our missions.
In our lives, we always have a choice to make.
We become what we choose from them to take.

PS: This poem is a Villanelle.

Treasures Of the Past

Some say what’s out of sight is out of mind,
And this is also true for the steady flow of time –
Seconds, minutes, hours, days, years and decades,
With every passing moment, they all fade away.
They take with them experiences sad and happy
And seal these in a cabinet labeled “Memories.”
The cherished ones at times pop up in the mind,
But many of these are forgotten and left behind.
Oh! To catch and freeze all those moments
With the details just as they were in that instance –
The dress, shoes, eyes, garden, smile, and rapture.
Yes! All these are captured in a beautiful picture.
These images are all treasures from our pasts.
They are the ones that make the lost times last.
Be it people, places, adventures, events or things,
A photograph is sure to pull the heart’s strings.
And whenever you want to relive those moments,
All you need is to look at the pictures in albums.

The Faces of Life

What is life if not an evergreen shrub
With hurtful thorns and velvet buds?
What is life if not a swinging ride
Sliding down and then up so high?

What is life if not a bride’s dress
With sturdy satin and delicate lace?
What is life if not a big mirror
With a side clear and other blurred?

What is life if not a vast ocean
With calm waters and raging storms?
What is life if not a bestseller
With true love and aching heartbreak?

Yes, life in all its beautiful moments,
Strives to always create a balance –
Opposites so distant and yet so near,
Life serves up both smiles and tears.

The Spring-Summer Collection

The cool breeze at dawn
Gently awakens the leaves on the trees.
The Sun rising on the horizon
Greets everything with rosy kisses.

The birds sing delightful songs
With chirps, whistles, coos, trilling and drumming.
They fly in the blue skies, or, in the trees, throng
As they serenade and welcome the morning.

The flowers bloom in a riot of colors
Dotting the green meadows and fields.
The butterflies, from cocoons, emerge
Showing off their newly painted wings.

Even the creepy crawly ones
Have their moments in the Sun.
With rustles, hums, crackles, zipping and rattling,
They all partake in the artistic presentation.

The old hills stand tall in the distance
Splashed in shades of brown and green.
Listen hard, and you may hear in their silence
Tales from last night, and their dreams.

Yes, this is indeed the grandest show.
And everyone has an invitation.
A ticket for a seat in the front row
For Nature’s Spring-Summer Collection.

It’s Holi

Red and yellow make orange.
Smeared with it, our faces look strange.

Blue and red make purple.
In the water balloons that, towards us, hurtle.

Yellow and blue make green.
When sprayed from a pichkari, we run and scream.

Red and white make pink.
The splashes come faster than we can dodge or think.

Green and red make brown.
There are colors for every person in the town.

Brown and yellow make gold.
The gulaal in the air falls on the young and the old.

The dholak’s beats, the Thandai and sweets,
With them, the celebrations are complete.

Come one, come all – join in the playful revelry.
After all, it’s the festival of colors – it’s Holi.

Childhood Dreams

If ever there was any innocence,
It would be in a childhood dream.
Where one sailed the seven seas
In a paper boat down the stream.

To meet the fairies of wonderland
With pink frocks and magic wands.
And fly with them to the silver moon
In a ship made of colored balloons.

And on the way, maybe fight and slay
Fire-breathing dragons that lie in wait,
And find a cave full of shiny treasures
On the banks of a flowing chocolate river.

Yes, there never was anything sweet
And precious like a childhood dream
Seen through the eyes of innocence
Like little bubbles of effervescence.

Just Bloom

I know I need to send that report
With data inferred through pivots.
And the PowerPoint presentation
Needs an editing of the animations.

I know I need to reply to that email.
It’s sent in red with high importance.
And a review discussion is pending
That needs a thorough preparation.

I know I need to make my bed.
The sheets lie loose and crumpled.
And the room has to be cleaned,
Dusted and wiped till there’s a sheen.

I know I need to hang the laundry
On the line with clips so they stay.
The dishes in the sink need a wash
With soap, scrubber and a brush.

I know there’re chores to be done.
Tasks that are high priority ones.
But, today, these aren’t on my to-do’s.
For, like flowers, all I’m going to do is… bloom.

Walls or Bridges?

Light doesn’t discriminate –
Revealing all when it glows.
The breeze doesn’t discriminate –
Caressing all when it blows.

A rose doesn’t discriminate –
Spreading fragrance when it blooms.
Thunder doesn’t discriminate –
Scaring all when it booms.

The ocean doesn’t discriminate –
Tasting salty to all who drink from it.
The Maker doesn’t discriminate –
Loving all whom He created.

Then, how is it that we’ve drifted?
Drawing boundaries out of differences.
A different color, race, country or belief
Makes us deny trust and acceptance.

United, we can forge our own Fate.
Divided, we become weak like prey.
Caught in the warp of cause and effect,
Let’s not build walls, but bridges that connect.

My Friend

I had a friend who was strange.
As strange as strange can be.
She’d jump into a muddy drain
To rescue a stranded puppy.

Her pockets were full of crumbs
That she fed to the little birds.
She used twigs to move earthworms
That wiggled in the middle of roads.

She didn’t like candy, dolls or ribbons
New dresses, hair clips or nail paint.
But she’d climb trees to help kittens,
And one day, she told me the reason.

That she did these on her own accord,
As being kind itself was a true reward.

The Reward

Once upon a long time ago,
There lived a wealthy man.
With money, his coffers did flow,
And there was nothing he lacked.

Silken clothes, jewels and gold –
His closets were full of them.
A mansion, servants at his call,
And plates encrusted with gems.

Yes, he called himself fortunate
As he had all of life’s rewards.
He felt he had all the happiness,
And that he needed nothing more.

Then, one hot day, his caravan
Stopped to rest in the afternoon.
The chariots parked under a banyan
That had vast branches and roots.

As he got down to stretch his legs,
He saw a man dressed commonly.
Who smiled benevolently at him
And asked if he was hungry or thirsty.

With disdain, the rich man denied
And told him that he had no wants.
The man bowed his head and smiled
And turned away to another person.

This man served food and water
To people who rested under the tree.
He took no money even if offered,
And this, the affluent man saw silently.

As the sun set, he questioned
That man why he did what he did.
The man smiled and invited him
To serve with him food to the needy.

The opulent man laughed loudly
And agreed just to humor him.
He served a weary traveler a meal
In a plate made of woven leaves.

All of a sudden, he was overcome
With an emotion hitherto unknown,
From his eyes, tears flowed freely, and
He felt at peace and happy all at once.

As he looked at the common man,
That man just smiled at him.
He knew that this humane action
Had turned to dust his arrogance.

As the princely man sat in the chariot,
And his caravan began to move,
He realized he had been rewarded
By his own service that afternoon.

A reward that couldn’t be measured
By diamonds, gold and gemstones.
It was a prize he’d always treasure
From his generous gesture alone.

I hope that like the wealthy man,
My friends, you too realize –
An act of kindness and compassion
Is itself the true reward in our lives.