Ah Woman

This is me and that is you and in the chasm is the dream wrote a woman once of her relationship with the man she loved and lived with. Some love stories reverberate like hymns in this universe. Love is a spiritual force in itself since it is a part of the inner world. In terms of events it happens between two people in a particular time and space but its fragrance spreads across time and space both. Amrita-imroz A love Story is a contemporary love legend which Penguin India brought to the world. It is best described not as a story of a woman or a man but a biography of a love story penned by Uma Trilok who was fortunate enough to spend some precious moments with the lovers just before Amrita left her body on October 31, 2005 at the age of 86. Being a Reiki and Pranik healer, the writer formed close ties with Amrita and Imroz and what came out is a book which is so soothing that it takes you to yourself. Love is a word which carries a halo around itself when used as a word. Ironically ...

pulled into the center from all the points on the periphery i am a sphere.

Like a Cross I bear over my shoulders The weight Of a dead matrimony I The single parent of your child Left alone To answer my own inadequacies Nails pierce I never bleed Tears fall Into the black holes of the night. I trudge uphill Golgotha continues….. ………………………………………….. … So what’s in store I look into the hollow sky I murmur A prayer insignificant Lord forgive I too am flesh and blood.

Woman I see you turning dross to gold seducing words to poetry in the white heat of passion ................................................ Woman I hear you have crossed roads those streaks of hair now burn like stars catching sparks and a zillion desires ............................................................ Woman i feel you burn yourself to ash to be an amber once.................... ....................................................... .......................................................

Friends, This one's once again about the world that was meant to be so wonderful but the growing insensitivity of people has given it its present face. Newspapers scream (sell!!!) An infant raped A family ripped by hired killers A boy of eight kills another. We sit in silence Mummy Daddy and I A sheet in each hand sipping hot hot tea in a cold cold morning We keep our eyes closed to the walls for rumblings next door. Anaesthetised to dead cries We shall with our wet sponge wipe blood splashes off the smoke glass panes in the lazy afternoons. Electronic prints rise to meaning in the misty mornings and fall into endless maze. We are afraid to go in crowds lest there be a stampede. Our own still drama in flux Moves in linear expansion We do not move nor change but wait for time to offer us a set of new truths. Their faces are so many. Holding to morality as dogs to crumbs Distrusting what scares us. A fate hangs in futurity. The events not in time but experiences ever rising, ever pre...

Valentine’s Day is around the corner. This earth is such a lovely place to be. And love is just the right thing to happen to anybody. Here’s a small note for you love birds. The home that I chose For you and me Has no doors Neither the walls It’s just a space A clear blue sky Between you and me And the brown earth beneath Ah a world of fragrance, sights and sounds Fill our senses And melt into silences You and I.