Author Archives: tapeshwar

Western wind

I have been taking
wondrous excuses
by way of my quixotic acts –
Writing on blue sky
with a piece of strident clouds
Day dreaming an undulating train
as marching caterpillar
Playing an invisible man
in the light of the lighthouse in the night of an oceanic shore
Exercising my strength
by way of toying fire with bubbling ice.
Yet; not by any luck
but, by the blowing western wind
I drew my ears
to your whereabouts,
which was playing havoc, till now on me.

The garden, and the merry making

It was all human; till
they could not resist
The sweet fragrance
Emanating from the wreath
Placed on the scented coffin.
All the corpse bearer, and the trailing feet
Turned to butterfly.
Sensing the flapping sound, and
Piloting of the soft touch
The dead rose out of the box
Giving a petal smile
to its colourful brethren –
The garden, and the merry making