Thursday, August 17, 2023



Dear Babu Jee,

Today once again

I travelled deep into the memory lane

To pick some glorious moment from the past.

And just found your cotton Kurta

Hanging on the peg.

Both of its pockets looked laden

With the burden

And borne by the hanger

All alone like you.

The pockets were full of papers,

Full of letters

And list of daily needs:

Of books and copies ,

Of monthly groceries

Which you kept promising to bring

The next week or coming Sundays

Without fail.

Even after mother’s frustrating retort

The Promises habitually lingered on,

But you remained calm as ever.

When she’ll run out of her patience

And find her composure totally lost,

You would bring some groceries home,

You would bring some peace.

The peg stood witness

For all the burns and burden

That Babujee had in his heart and mind.

Whenever you received letters

Of grandpa and grandma

You reverently felt blessed

And also knew it well

There must be some demand

On the back.

Yet as a burden bearing beast

You religiously fulfilled their needs

And the peg knew it all.

Day by day

Demands and desires kept spiralling

With the passage of time,

But it could hardly bother his mind.

When Babujee came home with my result

And showed it to mom,

The glimpse of glitter was evident on their faces.

You read my first poem loudly

Breaking the silence of sleeping night.

Wednesday, March 15, 2023



After so many years


Yes, today

Early in the morning

Before the advent of the Sun

A sweet chirping sound 

Not irritating the ears of dawn

I heard.

It was a pleasant waking call.


Our curiously numb body came out in the open

To see a pair of sparrows hopping

And merrily fluttering their wings.

As if they were saying

That boredom reigned all around without you,

So we came to see you

And stay here for a while.


I also wanted the same 

From the core of my heart,

But how could I speak out my mind

As we were the one 

Who had killed the trust

Of your innocence.

Instinctively, I ran into my house

And brought a bowl of grains.

And tried to place the bowl before them,

But they flew away in fear

As they were suspicious of us.


With a saddened heart

I kept the bowl on the road

And hid myself behind the curtain.


After sometime they came

They came close to the bowl

But with a very watchful eye

Becoming sure of our cordial intention

Both started pecking the grains.


I was understanding everything

But failed to convince them

That all are not the same

Devils do stay amongst humans.


May be they were getting the point

And clouds of doubts disappearing.

Now both started coming every day,

Started coming closer to us.

Bringing haystack

They started making their nest.

Their every move was heartening

Appearing to be filled

With pleasure and enthusiasm.


A few days later eggs were laid,

They turned into three featherless chicks

Gaining feathers fast

And turning into another sparrows.

Nesting of five was a mirror of metropolitan life,

But crows are everywhere.


One day one of them snatched away the chicks,

Faith got ambushed and hurt again

And the nest turned into ruins.


Both of them kept coming for some time

Desperately searching for something.

Though I had given them a strong nest,

But couldn’t give them a secure land of trust.


Gradually the sparrows stopped coming

And left twittering in the human habitation

Now it is just ME

And the NEST of the Sparrows.