Tag Archives: Suma K Gopal

Living Yesterdays

Gazing through the window
She sees only the bygone days
Time does not tick for her
The needles crawled and dragged themselves
To stop one day,
Frozen and numb

She travels back and forth
Amid those black and white scenes
Refusing to live in the present
Unworried about the future

Her children and grand children stopped to grow
Their youth captured in eternity
Her imagination feeds them, plays with them
And waits for them from school

Time does not decide her journey
Nor her age
And, the link is lost forever

There are only yesterdays
Today never exists
And tomorrow shall never come…

The Lord of Love

Jasmines bloomed and smiled at the ebony sky
New moon blinked and grinned,
Its elfin face sparkled, draping gentle glow
On the passionate night that unfurled,
For Ghanashyam, the Lord of Beauty!

Luscious nectar brimmed longingly
Aromatic breeze swayed, enamored
And then the sweet strain diffused,
Enchanting myriads of nymphs in the woods
There he is, Muralidhara, the Lord of Music!

Gopis hurried, to embrace him
Their wide thirsty eyes longed to be loved
Rasa Leela reverberated through sylvan night
Leaving the maidens in lustful trance
With Sudarsana, the Lord of Love!

As the day dawned, their agony grew
Yearning for joy of his touch that ended their suffering
Melody of desire, Maha Rasa that fulfilled their lives
He is nowhere, yet everywhere
The Lotus-eyed, the Charming Eternal Lover!

Why so hurry?

Why so hurry, Blacky Crow?
Before my chicks grow and go
I need straw, twig and stick
And build a lovely nest so quick
Come to my new home later in the day!

Why so hurry, Little Ants?
We need sturdy leaves of plants
And weave a haven like a dome
Before our queen comes back home
Come for sure, for a honey treat!

Why so hurry, Furry Squirrel?
I got to gather nuts from uphill
Save the berries, for winter is near
Hide them from those mice I fear
Come for cherries, I’ll spare for you!

Why so hurry, frisky cat?
Hush! I am chasing the cheeky rat
For, my kitty can learn lesson one
Hunting class has just begun…!
Come, Shall I meow of battles won?

Radha Krishna

Years later when Krishna met Radha
Her eyes sparkled, not with amour, or anger
Her lips quivered, not to kiss, or chide
Her arms stretched, not to cuddle, or pat
Her heart throbbed not for his music, or warmth
She knew, he was not the herder of Vrindavan.

Years later when Krishna met Radha
They gazed at each other’s eyes
And a trillion thoughts traced those yesteryears
Which they contained with a smile
They were entwined in their world
Enshrined on the banks on Yamuna

Years later when Krishna met Radha
They knew they were selflessly in love
Admired couples in a retold tale
There had never been any parting
No union, no longing, no agony,
They were in eternal bliss, being One

Finally Krishna spoke,
I am Dark, and She is Light
I am Energy, and She is Vibration
I am Prana, and She is Prakruti
I am Brahman, and She is Atman
I am the Seed; and She Contains.

Reflected Glory

She stared at the broken mirror
and curiously felt the flakes about to be fallen off.
Her broken image is indeed
the reflection of a fragmented life.
Bemused scraps stacked boringly
bearing the warmth of a waning dusk.
Everyone who lived with her carries her broken piece
And that’s what makes their images perfect!


We wake up with this surreal disbelief
If we can survive another long day…
Like the anxiety of a blank page.

We walk with compelling iron shackles
Tied to a wooden peg, never cut loose…
Like how we become the shadow that follows.

We eat strategies and drink motivation
Not counting the lines along our face…
Like time adding another spoke to its wheel.

Aren’t we mighty enough to rise above
The settling ashes that pull us down,
Like the legendary bird born again?

Aren’t we fluid enough not to stay defined
But spread through our sunny sketches,
Like those invigorating dreams during sunrise?

Aren’t we seekers of life and beyond
Evolving through meaning derived in a flash,
Like monks lit up with moments of epiphanies?

Aren’t we the free souls of cosmos
Unaffected by time and our thoughts
Destined to bring light from a dead star?

From He to She

Between the light and dark shades of my shadow,
And in the familiar silhouette spread through the mirror,
I saw more of a queasy lass springing
Mom’s gawky boy, too inelegant to be a girl.

I was dressed to display dignity,
To show off the machismo stamped at birth.
My skin cried defying the body it concealed.

From being a Pretty Mystery to a Question Mark,
From a being a Silly Farceur to an Awful Sapphic,
The migration was strange, dark and excruciating.

It’s my fault – an aftermath of past lives’ sins!
Lords of morality cast my prayers, diluted
To the lesser gods tagged “he-or-she”.

My authentic expressions are cultural misfits
My dreams need to align with my genitalia
If you have long colorful feathers, you got be a peacock!

When I don’t decide who you should be
Why don’t you let me paint my identity?
When I can erase the dysphoric mist from the mirror
Who are you to determine the gender of my shadow?

After a Decade

Today we start afresh
Leaving all that’s old 
Those transitory joys and stretched worries…
Withered buds and faded sketches
Yesterdays were colorless dreams
Those colored were severed abruptly
Never to resume over again

Even when our adverse tiffs 
Hung like murky rain clouds 
With looming roar and rumble 
Quiescence spread sluggishly, and 
Far away, I hearkened accord that
Swept my mucky sorrows away

Even when our swearing lips
Chose to flout our promises to each other
And the guiding stars bereft us
On barren dunes with sand castles
I saw a beam of beacon
Yonder in the land of spring and mirth 

As the sunrise’s embers
Blush our hearts
May the glow of your eyes 
Erase our life’s darkness
As the early morning dew
Kisses our souls
May the beam on your lips
Add serenity to our life 

Yesterday’s cinder is almost cold
The flame of Tomorrow 
Deceits with its fickle smile
Today is what’s worth
To drink our passion’s nectar
To fulfill our Love’s purpose. 


 When you listen to your own thoughts
 amid the cluttered chatter
 You are psychotic.
 When you fully admit the figure
 and smile back at the mirror          
 You are a vain narcissist.
 When you walk into the depths
 in search of connections unseen
 You are a troglodyte.
 When you begin to melt
 Into the vastness of the ocean
 You are an existential loner.
 All along you have been on a retreat
 in spacetime, through a blackhole 
 rooted in its fabric, unsullied and serene.