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The Week Ahead

It has been long time since I read astrology columns. Peter Vidal in the past would put a week's suspense in the Sunday columns of Indian Express and we hooked to them religiously. Every week we drew to a climax in the mid and then to an understanding with our fates. Sometimes, the prediction might be irrelevant but it could never be false. Like you know, we often say "we want to do this or that, become this or that without meaning to be." Today I am supposed to work on a to-do list but due to misalignment of stars it will not work out. The astrologer changes this time but the prediction is quite true and I know it by 11 a.m. this morning.

a broken cup
holds an array of old pen
of the sun long set


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Echoes, my new poetry book

Echoes published by Write India is recently released in September.  It has been an amazing experience to through them once again and truly as desired they echo through mind and soul.

Here is blurb at back of book:

Consistency where life frames women in different roles and you feel inhabited.

In such serenity I sit and think saturated with thoughts.  A woman speaking of in her element perennially devises how way further will be for her without the barriers of struggle.  Nature is succour.  One easily connects with primal action born of thought. As innate as vital energy of mind and body, the poems here touch aspects of womanhood subliminally.

It would not be in woods or meadows far reaching only through echoes, it would beat deep inside throbbing and touching through aspects of life.

A Poem from Echoes:

Cold winds with those dark clouds
on my sky are my aspirations
where horizon of blue sublime,
tiny corpuscles of lime,
from where I have sprung and this haste
do I even know the melody…

Again the Sky

First published on Literary journal.

Today showered again the sky I wondered if soaking the streets I choose to ignore.
Small leaves sprout and crawl inside me, branches spread out, straws are collected nests are created.
Lone pathway on feet speck of air or earth so full, and my own heart's silence in this moment's time.

Moon and stars

moon again behind
the hills what
myth I build on my story


a star out of canvas
I am 
here with truth


few stars in sky
and angles in and out 
can't locate more


only one more round
at moon hedge
full of jasmine