Author Archives: Geethanjali Dilip

Stranger by the Minute

Something is strange in the breeze this afternoon.
It carries tell tale stories of trees cooking ambrosia, that drifted with the pollen, as clouds grazed newborn forests’ incantations in dawn’s mist.
Something is strange with the wanton gust that carries songs of Gandharvas, who hovered over the valleys, crooning of immortal life and desire trees tremulous with golden flowers.
Something is strange about the resonance of the summer winds that gurgle with unadulterated nectar meant for all, flowing in a cascade of frothy effervescence, popping the quintessence of life.
And as I seek all of these illusions, leaves skip with the dust as if in exhilaration that illusions are prequels to the real. And on and on this goes as I get closer and closer to the green of the hills that turn brown, teal, yellow, bronze, alder and mint leaving mere silhouettes as the light goes behind them.
Something is strange with the light today. It talks to me.

All © ® Geethanjali Dilip


The afternoon’s white light streams in the egg white of my vision,

A clean slate after the cosmic blue yawned in the iris of self induced sedation,

Where will be written new stories and verses in red brooks,

Drinking up the saffron and restlessness of existence’s nooks,

In a shutter speed within nano seconds of eyelids batting,

Epics unfold beyond temporal , spatial latitudes, platitudes stretching,

Where I am the many and many are me in a burlesque scripted,

Pretending to be different in a pattern variegated,

Eyes absorb all that they choose to see the rest being just motes,

For they are afraid of a sting where oceans nestle drowning eye boats,

Dusk claims all of these thoughts in crepuscular dreams,

As twilight drifts into night and archives memories in endless reams.


©️ Geethanjali Dilip