The “Happy Hour” Margaritas & Mojitos: A Happy World Poetry Day.

Over dinner at the restaurant, at its ‘Happy Hour’,

we were jubilant to say the least – on Margaritas:

At a price of two we got four – ordered four more,

yet cointreau, lime juice, Tequila – a perfect mix.


Dislodging slices of lemon, from the glasses rim –

tasting salt on it, we gently squeeze lime juice in:

ingredients shaken well with ice, tingles tongues

spiced up with prawns, lamb, also fish n chips. 


Our conversation light with drizzles of sadness –

to thaw frozen hearts it takes not many cocktails: 

Stirring your soul where the past is a hurricane –

like lava hurt melts overflowing a brim of reason. 


Night after we return for the ‘Happy Hour’ bonus –

they run out of cointreau to our disenchantment,

but as wells of sadness haven’t yet exhausted, 

to infuse in it joy we opt for eight Mojitos instead.


#worldpoetryday #poetry #love #sadness #happiness #margaritas #mojito #dinner #loveandlife


After The Rain: In The Land Of Happiness




I can still hear the rain pattering

on red and green ridged tin rooftops –

against silhouettes of mountainous forests

in varied lush tones of emerald.


Grey clouds are soaring skyward, as fog

steadily descends: between clouds

and fog a magnificent light bursts-

illuminating the land of thunder dragons.


Ink-blue sky peeps intermittently below

the grey clouds right through the splendid light:

Even as rain stops and fog creates a halo over

the stupa’s many tiered golden roofs.


A man or two in tartan brown and black Gho

have descended onto the washed streets,

as a woman in a purple silk Kira walks by my window

cautiously, as do cars ascending a light-swathed valley.


In the distance I see grey peaks, white peaks

that are etched out in thick smog,

as clouds through them hop in and out in turns –

as if characters playing their part for a live audience.


The green wood’s stage irradiated as if by Arclight

is visible in fog, also mud-tracks on hills in the backdrop:

as hearts in ‘the land of happiness’ – Bhutan illumined

by spirituality: are unfazed by anguished deluges.


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Go Away: Live And Let Live

Go away: Live And Let Live…

You can have your freedom,

But then don’t seek my love.

You can flap your wings wide,

Don’t seek access to my trust.

If you don’t strive to be mine,

My heart will again open up:

It’ll allow in one who belongs,

Who doesn’t seek reckless fun.

You leave my heart’s door open,

It’ll shut you out, so never return.

Just go, go away to your freedom,

I’ll choose one who truly belongs.

I wish you a love that has no bars,

A heart that’s yours, his, everyone’s

There are freedom seekers I attract,

My cage is of gold, refracts the sun.  

Gilt metal birdcage

Automation birdcage, gilt metal with feathered birds and pearl eggs in nest, 19th century. Associated with Queen Victoria © Royal Collection


A Starlit Stage



It’s a pleasantly cool Calcutta evening

            With the January sun on its way down:

Strums of a guitar I hear in the distance-

            As rowed back into shore, I view boats.


I’m sitting by the banks of the Ganges

            Watching the river serenely flow below:

The sun giving its ripples an orange glow

            In slipping, plunging into their soft folds.


A quiet tranquil now envelops me snugly

            In viewing for long, water’s serene flow;

Birds tired of chirping are rushing home  

            As lights illuminating the bridge turn on. 


In shimmering water I now see your glow

            As far notes of a guitar ushers you ashore:

Where I’m seated below the strand lights

            As on a stage awaiting our roles to enfold.


The last act we played, it was on this shore

            But feels like such a long, endless time ago,

As I sorely miss your wordless dialogues which   

            I’ve learnt, alone rehearsing both our roles.


In my starlit view you’re real, our opera’s true,

            As the river – our audience in waves of delight

Squirms in the chilly breeze: even as I’m warmed     

            In the last scene – passionately embraced by you.









A Morning Walk: Bekal, Kerala


As I strolled the rain-drenched beach

            With varied seashells strewing my feet:

They prickled my jute-sandaled heels

            Awakening my intellect to sight and feel.


The waves, they crashed loud on my right –

            Frothy they were, the sea looked as white;

Coconut, palm trees rustled to my left side,

            Birds manifested them – chirping loud, wild.


The sun didn’t yet seem remotely to show     

            But awaiting it the sky did lay out its glow;

As fissures developed through dark clouds –

            Light crept on me slowly, it was dainty now.


Then suddenly there came a burst of light,

            As I looked in awe I was suffused in dawn;

The birds now flew wild, chirped in delight,

            Waves crashed noisily, as sun then arrived.


I walked on still – a steady, slow pace now

            Digging my feet into limp, wet, steady sand:

For I wanted to reach far as sight would go –

            Curious to view what lay behind nature’s fore.


When suddenly I reached an L shaped curve –

            There the beach came to an abrupt, sharp halt;

I walked on further towards the big boulders

            To where – thereupon the sea flowed sideward.


It was here in flowing through green woods  

            An elegant river kissed the dandy sea’s lips:

Together they stood in earnest, tight embrace –

            Even though from them differences emanate.


The sea gurgled playfully, wild waves lashed,

            As serene – the river flanked by woods gushed;

I stood above watching their copious spree:

            The river blushed – as stroking it was the sea.


Yet they both retained their distinctive charm –

            One rough, the other tender: both so in love.

As I walked back leisurely in the soft sunlight –

            Nature’s lovemaking was intense on my mind.


It’s possible to love profusely, be free, distinct –

            Two people in love needn’t lose individuality.

The sea by now was calm, the birds gone quiet;                     

            Uniqueness in love: from nature I’d surmised.










Have I Taught You To Love?

“Forever – is composed of Nows” –Emily Dickinson


I treated you like you were the only one,

You treated me as I was amongst all, one;

Yet I gave you all in me I had left to give,

As that’s the only way I know how to live.


You were not ready to let your ego go,

While I didn’t ever allow it to you, show;

I wanted you to know you were my core,

As you tried to project I wasn’t your fore.


You did not support my forays into light,

While I was so proud of your every flight;

I sheltered your hurting every way I could,

On my bare toes you ensured you stood.


 I tried every which way to make your today,

To choose your outfit, red carnations bright;

Yet how could I have them adorn your life-

As balloons of pungent words you hurled?


Now that we no longer can communicate,

Live our lives in our separate selfish ways;

I wish on you, someone you can celebrate,

As I taught you to love, teach her to cherish.


In The Autumn of Our Lives.



There’s much I want to say to you

            But none of it have I been able to:

It’s the little things in life that matter,

            So nothing big I’ve ever asked of you.


Every effort I make for you with fervour

            Is reflection of my deep love for you:

Why then do you dither in showing

            The love I know you feel for me too?


There is so much you keep hidden inside –

            It’s me you’re in love with never to abide;

It’s love of your ego you’ll rather stroke –

            Even misunderstandings my love to evoke.


You evade tuneful notes I play only for you

            While I scan yours for what is my due;

I pronounce my love in so many ways

            Yet you crave straws women chuck you.


I paint the sky in red, violet I drip on you,

            In all rhymes I sing – I envelop you in hue;

The wild green we paint each other with –  

            It’s because passion in us still rings true.


Yet we freeze each other out in silences

            Under which bitter fuming currents brew:

Now that this tide is so full of our grief –         

            With time a bridge will we ever construe!


Let’s throw open our dam of grievances –

            So what if we wash each other with refuse:

We’ll cleanse our hearts outpourings –

            As egos coalesce we’ll build bridges anew.


You wish I’d be independent and strong –

            Allow you space to wander, trot the globe;

But I’ll learn to live without you, to survive –

            Will you my love subsist if I’m forever gone?


PS: This poem is inspired by the Indian (Bengali) film ‘Bela Sheshe’ that I watched this evening: After fifty years of togetherness and raising three daughters and a son, Biswanath (actor Soumitra Chatterjee) decides to divorce his wife Aarti (actor Swatilekha Sengupta). He feels that his married life has run its course and has nothing new to offer. The official trailer with English subtitles is in the link here:

You could read this article too, in the link below:

An Oyster In The Sand


I have nothing anew left to say to you,

My soul feels empty, barren, and bare;

All the love that I’ve showered you with,

Just wasn’t enough to get you to care.

But now that I’ve given all I have to give,

I can no longer on my heart let you tread;

Allow you any further to crush its yearning-

Incapacitate it of loving someone who cares.

So go away my love, find your true calling,

Allow me on my own to withstand the glare;

Let the waves engulf me body and soul now,

Thereby wash away all of you that is yet left.

Surely there’s someone there looking for me,

With a heart full of love and concern to spare;

That which he could not lifelong as yet lavish-

On one who left early, sorely implanting it there.

I would gladly wash up on him, at life’s shore,

The waves returning me anew, my soul fresh;

Where he’d pick me tenderly as a gift so rare,

Draw me out from an oyster with loving care.

He would recognise the hand of god in this,

In my washing up on his shore on golden sand;

Wouldn’t my heart he now shelter and cherish:

Acknowledge it’s that pearl valuable and rare?

This poem is inspired by my rereading of “The Pearl” a novella by American author John Steinbeck…

“In the town they tell the story of the great pearl- how it was found and how it was lost again. They tell of Kino, the fisherman, and of his wife, Juana, and of the baby, Coyotito. And because the story has been told so often, it has taken root in every man’s mind. And, as with all retold tales that are in people’s hearts, there are only good and bad things and black and white things and good and evil things and no in-between anywhere.” 

“If this story is a parable, perhaps everyone takes his own meaning from it .”

The Break-Up


When the phone rang last Sunday-

               On the screen your name I viewed:

It constricted my wounded heart in

               Rekindling memories I long refused.


It has been ages since we last met-

               From when we parted at your gate:

I drove away from your steady gaze

               That from my memory never fades.


As I softly said ‘hello’- taking your call,

               In reply your voice was fixed and cool:

But the feelings between us did ignite

               As if a thousand whistles softly blew.


I calmly asked how you’re doing in life

               But in my heart violet butterflies flew:

In my mind they sailed, perched on you –

               Then kissed your lashes, lips gently too.


When you asked me how my life was

               With severity of your baritone diffused:

It blew the lid off your assumed cool –

               As over the seas our longing brewed.


Speaking insouciantly of those we knew

               It was desire for each other we renewed:

I felt you’d missed me as much as I did you –

               So our breakup I ended, saying “I love you.”



PS: This poem is inspired by the movie “The Break-Up” that I watched last Sunday. You could watch the trailer here if you haven’t watched the movie yet 🙂

Definitely, Maybe…


I saw the way you looked at her
With that twinkle in your eyes,
The smile you could not conceal
As it caught her eyes, also mine.

She smiled slyly, trying to evade me-
The twinkle in her eyes caught mine:
Rather than notice my crushed face
I left you together, walked sorely by.

For months now I’d noticed changes-
A lilt in your voice, spring in your walk;
The delayed homecomings you justified,
Your phone notifications wouldn’t stop.

There’d be outings you both planned
Then invite me to join you as an alibi;
To prove to the world you’re friends
Even a medical emergency you’d defile.

What’s worse is you were real nice to me,
Kinder than you were in a really long time:
Thus confirmed I’d be you were true to me,
The others were mere cherries on your pie.

Then I saw you smile by yourself late at night-
You’d delayed coming to bed working overtime:
That’s when I told myself, ‘Stop living a white lie,
Get on with life – not waste it on your black lies.’


🙂 This is poem is inspired by the movie “Definitely, Maybe” that I just watched this afternoon on TV – Romedy Now. The trailer: