Road and River

Posted by admin on March 23, 2017
DeTour / No Comments

The road runs parallel to the gushing river,

They’re like two lives running together with same intensity

The road takes a curve, the river bends

Bringing to mind picture of lovers copying each others’ moves and making amends


While I reasonably wait for the journey to end

the road and the river seem to be in a ceaseless affair

because till the time they are together they don’t want to leave nothing to chance

Until another curve and bend brings to end their romance


Perhaps in some other place and time they will suddenly see each other once again

And continue with their unknown destination

When one road stops, another begins

A small stream turns into river, flows and sings

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Evening in Paris

Posted by admin on November 02, 2016
CitiSights, OtherCities, OtherWorlds / No Comments


Paris is well worth a mass
Where lovers come to find romance
City of Light, A movable Feast
Spiraling and spiraling
the wide boulevards
form a network of spider’s web

And caught in the aligned
Tree-lined streets with cream-grey
Buildings with aligned top balconies
I say, Ah, Paris, finally made it
Blowing smokes of satisfaction
Sitting on the table of a packed café
That spill out into the streets

A city built for the sights and the senses
That, like a woman retaining her reserved sensuality
With declining age
Bewitches a young man with her elegance, fineries

And as if she exists in two realms
Only understood by Seine’s subtle bends
She transforms into a young, aquiline woman in love
Who gives you her everything while still retaining
Her innocence, purity and charm

But be aware oh! New, novice lovers
Easily mesmerized by looks
Try to see beyond flower filled balconies and windows
Because like the way she navigates the
Boundary of the old and the new trudging
The many bridges
You will find that she also wears
Two faces- one she always displays with
All the cosmetics and perfume of the worlds
The other she only reveals to those who
Have patience enough, and passion, to look

Looking intently at the surviving
jingle jangle of love locks at the Pont des Arts
Pairs, arm-in-arm, stroll
leisurely across the arch bridge
As if seeking blessing for their
Own committed love
From the innocent impressions of time

And in the labyrinthine mesh of the Parisian metropolitan
A frail and frazzled woman in grey jacket,
with her purse dangling down from her fingers
Remains standing staring at nothing in particular
Like an owl in daytime
As people walk swiftly past her
On the very busy passageway
Throwing not so even as a glance

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