Category Archives: Nature


This is in response to the prompt from this blogpost:

The Friday Reminder and Prompt for #SoCS June 22/19

This is the first time I am participating and I am not at all sure how it has turned out.But yes, I did type this in as closely as I formulated my thoughts .

“Leaves leave beautiful impressions in my consciousness .They speak of Nature’s infinite variety , of beauty , of life itself, the very source from which everything else emanates. They are magical , trapping the streams of sunlight into their being with immense love for everything else that is in existence on this planet and synthesising the energy that sustains every ecosystem.
They throb with sensitivity, fluttering in the breeze, exulting in the sun , catching the glints and smiling in the reflected glory .The hues of green, each different from the other as are their contours and textures. Each revels in its uniqueness without any sense of competition or conflict , confident of its own worth and its place under the sun.

Each ages gracefully, turns yellow , flutters and falls and waits unhurriedly to become one with the earth. Waits, till it finds its way through the sap that gives life to another form of flora .
And so the cycles go on of renewal and beauty and joy and trust in the laws of a compassionate universe.


Posted by on June 23, 2019 in Nature


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I was on my way
I was in a hurry
I decided on a detour
That would shorten the distance

It wasn’t a day
When I could tarry
To stop by the store
To talk to an acquiantance

I cut through the fields
And the mango grove
Then through the palms
Beside the river.

From amongst the reeds
Rose a white dove
At the distance of an arm
Like a sliver of silver.

My feet on the pedals
Slowed down and stopped
Alighting , I rested
My cycle against a trunk

I took in a lungfull
Of the air and was hooked
To the idea of a school kid
Doing the bunk


Posted by on June 3, 2015 in Nature, Poetry



It’s raining again

These pictures were clicked by a Facebook friend Abru Manoj. The little boy is his son Tanmay. “The rains are addictive” was Abru’s caption for the first photograph and “The rain is a kiss on the soul” for the second. I just took off from there 🙂

Tanmay’s expressions are always so very endearing and the father manages to capture them so well:-)


The rains are addictive
The way it smells when falling
On the dry earth

It holds me captive
With its outpouring
That grows in height and girth.

I stay stuck to the windows
To watch it drenching
The slender pepper vines

And to wait for the wet crows
As they take their time assembling
On the swaying electric lines


I wonder what they’re saying
The palm fronds and the breeze
And those clouds look all ready
To burst into a sneeze.

That white stork in flight
From earthly leanings freed
Revelling in his solitude
Across the paddy fields

I wonder why the wind
Won’t stay put in one place
And why the trees nod their heads
To everything that it says .


Posted by on July 2, 2014 in Nature, Poetry


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aaru valley

The stream chatting with the mountains
The breeze lending its ears
Confused they were with borders
And with mortal fears.

They try to dam(n) my freedom
Gurgled the chirpy waters
They blast us to deform
Said the slopes with cynical laughter.

Well, at least I’m better off
I still roam where I will
The breeze blew kisses to the ripples
And the meadows and the hills.

But hey , you still could have some fun
Just do a jiggle with your plates
You’ll see them run for cover
When they see a river in spate.


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The singing stones


The river flowed on
Lying on the river bed
The stones surrendered
Of itself
Bit by bit.

The years moved on
Where Time’s reins led
And the stones marvelled
At themselves
And their grit.


Posted by on August 16, 2013 in Nature, Poetry, Reflections


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rain in the moonlight

She showers in the moonlight’s glimmer
Behind the curtains of the clouds
She walks a pitter-patter
She is bewitchingly proud.

She lets down her tresses
And tosses them about
And the droplets cascade downwards
Before an admiring crowd.


Posted by on August 16, 2013 in Nature, Poetry


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I am …therefore you are!


I pace up, slow and lightly
I pour down as rain
I freeze high and mighty
I thaw through the plains.

I feed the field and crop
I rest fleetingly as dew
I rise up to the treetop
I colour myself for the brew.

I can prance ever so sprightly
I can sit still with disdain
I can tug at your heartstrings achingly
As I course through your veins


In the still of the forests
I can hang on leaf tips
And fall in slow motion
To kiss the green, grassy lips

I can quench and nurture
I can be your refuge
I can be the trickle austere
I can as well be the deluge

The ubiquitious drop
That’s what I am, true!
But you’ll shut your shop
If I vanished or withdrew.

Do not take me for granted
Do not waste wantonly
With me your life started
Don’t write for me an elegy.

I am generous to a fault
But don’t take it too far
Rein your greed in to a halt
Remember, I am…therefore you are!!


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The earth’s lament

Uttarakhand Floods rescue_0_0_0_0_0_0_0_0_0_0

It took me millions of years
To cool down
And many millions more
To mix and match the elements
To create life
And I patiently spun around.

Now the Cosmos jeers
And Time frowns
And I am hurt to my core
To find myself in this predicament
Of continuing strife
With that work that had done me proud.

1 Comment

Posted by on June 27, 2013 in Nature, Poetry


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There is too much beauty to quit


There is too much beauty to quit
Too many songs to sing.
Too many worlds to create
Seemingly,out of nothing.

Too many voices clammering
To find resonance elsewhere.
Too many waves, of shore denied
Simmering to take on a dare.

Too many hushed whisperings
Subtle, sour and sweet
Too many sighs that cling
To memories of past defeat.

Too many hopes to sow
Too fertile the ground
Too inviting the future, to let go
Too much love to go around


Posted by on September 19, 2012 in Nature, Photography, Poetry


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Autumn Siesta

Autumn spins
A drowsy noon
The deep, dense forest
Becomes a mother’s lap.

The breeze begins
To softly croon
To the trees at rest
Before they nap.

The streaming sunrays
Draws squares and circles
On the moss
And the scattered leaves.

A birdcall delays
The frisky squirrels
Darting across
Like a pair of thieves.

In hushed whispers
The flowers tell tales
To the visiting
Bees and butterflies.

A snake slowly stirs
And a frog turns pale
With a sudden spring
A swallow flies.

Soft grasses warmed
By the morning’s sun
Spread soft mats
Beside the stream

The hours embalmed
Have now begun
To find retreat
In siesta’s dreams.


Posted by on October 1, 2011 in Nature, Poetry


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