Moon, Moon, Moon, Moonlight

Cheers, dear moon!”
[Source – Pixabay]

In the search of a moon Haiku poem, I found how beautifully a 21st century poet addressed to his favourite classic poet –


… lifting my cup, 

I asked the moon

to drink with me …

Li Po


And if Li Po had

got the moon in his mitts

what would he have done with it?

Cid Corman


Today, I decided, I will stay with these words and leave rest of the search for tomorrow.


Moon was its usual self,

I was the one, lost and fuzzy,

Moonlight still showed the way.


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A Hit Comic Strip – Mr. Bombay

Haha! Mr. Bombay rocks, haha!
Volume 1, Issue 1

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The River

“Throughout the whole of life one must continue to learn to live and what will amaze you even more, throughout life one must learn to die.”
 – Seneca
The river knows it, it chooses to learn consciously, to learn truly.
It keeps flowing, it makes an effort and understands better.
Earlier as a rivulet, it stayed uncertain and still, once it almost died, it dried up. Revived by the clouds’ mercy, the rivulet never looked back.
Accepting and changing on the way, the river gushes towards the calm sea.
Yes, all the waterfalls celebrate constantly this very union – the river meets the sea.
The River.
Image by Hardebeck Media from Pixabay

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That Black And White Photograph

Faded and hazy… old eyes can nevertheless make out who is who. They are all standing awkwardly still for the photograph. It deserves a lovely laugh. It achieves so every time. And moist eyes…

Black is disappearing into the white and the white into the off-white. Will the memory die soon? Or will it live as an anecdote?

An anecdote that is passed on, with number of ears listening to it adding flavours they find must be incorporated, by one storyteller to another. It becomes precious, a small piece capsuling time. Golden time…

Her old, wrinkled smiling face was so young once. Gush of euphoria hits my mind for a few seconds, while she stays as quiet as serene scenery, softly caressing the black and white photograph.

Your memory, liquid time solidified by a click, an era’s voice captured in the photographic paper stays alive… first in form, later as a story.

The Fall

If you fall and the fall resembles the fall of Macchu Picchu…  

The dust around you, the dust in you tells you the truth. Listen carefully. They blame the dreariness on the modern technology, but just open your eyes to see who is not moving. City streets shine blood-red and dead empty; finding fault is out of fashion now. Hiding is a fad, not believing is a fad, not feeling is a fad. You don’t check the time any more, the clock reflects grime all around. The war is also over, the hunt has ended, panic seeped within is now quelled and happily so. The dead ones are dying and the living ones are dying. You know nothing stays forever, yet you hope for a forever. Stale thoughts to no thoughts, you look outside the window, you imagine what it will be like to jump, to bring an end.

If you fall and the fall resembles the fall of Macchu Picchu, you will rise back.

5W, 1H and a question mark.

If you go through ‘Heights of Macchu Picchu’ by Pablo Neruda, you’ll know. If you believe, you’ll know.

Machu Picchu, Peru

( Heights Of Macchu Picchu translated by John Felstiner – )

Not So Lonely Island / And I am with Jake

Not so lonely island.
Image from Pixabay.

Me – Hey Jake, do you want some coconut water?  

Jake – No, I don’t want coconut water, I just had coconut water, how much coconut water can a man drink? (Pause) Okay, give me some coconut water.  

And so, I and Jake drank coconut water.

Me – Sand, sea-shells, sea-shores, ships, sharks… ‘S’… aren’t you playing Jake?

Jake – Seagulls, sea urchins and no, I am not playing.  

Jake’s not a spoilsport.

Me – Nightingale knows the night and knows the stars.

Jake – Of course, it does, it has been painted along. Painted all white, white in the night?  

A classical realist, just generally I mean, nothing to do with international relations, that’s Jake.

Me – A word for me? Describing me? Like for you, I’d say… Hvorfor Ikke that is Danish for Why Not.

Jake – Hvorfor… that’s for you.  

I won’t flounder and hence, I am super quiet. Dead quiet.

Me – Time’s so slow! (Laughing) That’s my joke, Jake.

Jake – Seems more like a taunt. Here, quickly, burrow my watch in the ground.  

I took it and now it is in my pocket.

Me – Why so glum, chum?

Jake – Really? I have been yodelling for an hour. What’s wrong with you?  

My chum’s so caring.

Jake – I see a ship… hurry, light a fire, fireworks, burn everything, now…

Me – But we are out of firecrackers… I used them while you yodelled and I danced.  

Hey ya, my bad. Jake is all smiles.

Jake – No I am not, I am clenching my teeth. And… and stop adding these footnotes. I hate it!

Me – As you say, dear confidant.  

Jake is awestruck.

Jake – I am more appalled than anything else.

Me – But no one can tell… I know you want to keep my morale high. Wait, where are you going?

Oh, time for a stroll. This will be our 57thround around the island. Cool! Well, 57th or 59th?

Jake – (Talking to himself) God, kill me now.  

Jake’s praying, god, just fulfil his wish, whatever it is.

And I am with Jake.
Image from Pixabay.

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You Stardust!

Tarantula Nebula.
Image – Pixabay.

Step out you stardust, the door is wide open!    

Why? Aren’t you ready? That table is your trunk, you packed it long back, ask the thick grime your feet are resting on.

Lurking on the wall is a spider, is he your friend or not, don’t bother I tell you, he is on his own journey.

For now, the lamp is cold and dead, for now, the darkness is not a thing unfamiliar, for now, you have mourned too long, so just get up.

Don’t you see the ants working? You sulk and cough and spit and drink thinking life will just pass, but it will not, not so easily.

Get up, step out, it has been so long since you heard the sound of your own footsteps… deep resonance… connect once again to the earth.

Shout or cry, dare or try and always happily fall… fall down for then you’ll learn to wake up… getup-getup.

You turn away from the light, no-no it is not laughing at you, walk with it a mile, you’ll smile and shine too.

The hands you’re resting, the head you’re swaying, the air you’re breathing knows better than you.

Don’t worry for smoothly it will all come back to you, the sun rises and sets, the moon shines and hides, the wind plays and takes, the river nurtures and leaves, the sky stays yours forever – see up, get up.

Witness, for the truth is waiting. Witness, for the Time is calling. Witness, for your life is yours to rule.

Aye! Aye! It is hard, bone-screeching, don’t listen to the stubborn emptiness, all it does is preaching.

See, you’re up, take a step forward, one at a time. Push away the hindrances, let the mirror fall and break into umpteenth pieces, for you’re about to change into an image that the mirror cannot behold.

Aye! Rub your eyes for now you’ll see the world beyond. Keep walking!  

Step out you stardust, the door is wide open!    

Wizard Nebula. Image – Pixabay.

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Two Blind Crows

Ra-ra: Why did the window go SHUT… who closed it SHUT… my question is just HOW?

Ra-ra’s friend Coo stays quiet, looking absolutely nowhere.

  Ra-ra: S-H-U-T shut, right when I was about to pick my share and leave…  

Coo: I believe you, it has been so many years since you first told me this story.

Ra-ra: (astonished) Many years you say, gone nuts…? It happened an hour ago.

Coo: So you think.

Ra-ra: Coo, this ain’t the time to argue.

Coo: This is.

Ra-ra: But we won’t.

Coo: We will.

Ra-ra: Hey, how is Will doing? Been a while…

Coo: A while? He died ages ago.

Ra-ra: O boy, you’re not in the mood to talk. Well… I… ah, just forget it.

Coo: Forgetting is easy, a very natural thing.

Ra-ra: Hmm… (pause) Hey Coo, give me some space to stand.

Coo: You’re standing fine, 900 years have passed.

Ra-ra: 900? I have come flying from the west port of Oraffa city just now.

Coo: Oraffa city? Hah! Blind dreams!

Ra-ra: How dare you? I can see very well… you can’t, you blind ugly funny-sounding bad crow!

Coo: I said blind dreams… didn’t call you blind.

Ra-ra: Oh, oh-my, then let me apologise.

Coo: For what? We are blind, the world knows it. Yet…

Ra-ra: Blind we are, yes, yes… very much… (mumbles).

Coo: I’ll complete my sentence… yet we are still alive.

Ra-ra: (flaps wings) Death sentence, I have been given a death sentence and yet I am alive.

Coo: Cool-cool yourself Ra-ra. We are together in this.  

Ra-ra starts sobbing, mumbles again.

  Coo: I am turning left.

Ra-ra: (softly) Left?

Coo: Turned.

Ra-ra: Wait for me!

Coo: Can’t.

Ra-ra: I think I also turned left unless it is the right, or it is somewhere in the middle, who knows.

Coo: Not me.

Ra-ra: (laughs) You’re funny!  

Both Ra-ra and Coo stand quietly. Coo speaks after some time.

  Coo: Hey Ra-ra, you never told me your famous window story.

Ra-ra: I didn’t? How come?

Coo: That’s the truth.

Ra-ra: Well, then listen… the window was SHUT before I could pick my share… someone just closed it SHUT…

The two blind crows talked facing what they thought was the left.

Two Blind Crows
Image by Santa3 from Pixabay

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Walking A Gatha

Walking straight, walking on the mountain listening to The Times They Are A Changin’ I saw nothing, neither the trees nor the rocks, neither the shadow nor the light, and just kept walking ahead. Mountain talked, I didn’t hear, until I bent a little. It said, ‘you will reach your destination, you will, for sure’, and happily I smiled, crossed my hands behind my back and continued walking.

Swiftly I moved forward, there was no stopping me. Dashing ahead I crossed jungles after jungles, I played with the shadows and the light, I didn’t even wait for the wind. Like a curse, definitely a curse, a disaster hit me – I started panting. It never happened all this while, why now? Then I remembered faintly of what the mountain told me… I pleaded it to guide me again, the mountain listened. It said, ‘know patience, know the truth and its power’, I bowed down and stopped walking. I stopped for the first time in my travel; I learned the art of deep breathing. Ages passed there; then I left in search.

In search of what I was looking for. I was looking for what I was in search of.

Familiar with the pace of the trees canopying me, stopping and listening to the rocks and their untold gathas, attuned with the shadow and the light, I kept walking when I reached near a ferociously musical river. It carried along ocean’s depth and waves’ nimble notes… ‘will merge with the ocean, I do not wait for anyone’, replied the river to my question – can you please let me pass.

So I changed my path and followed the river. Who said you can’t? Change… change and move ahead.

Right where the river met the ocean, where it all seemed to end, where trees, rocks, shadow and light all disappeared, music stayed by my side and showed me a narrow, slippery way to cross the river. I stepped in, the water was cold, but shallow and so I could cross easily. It was shallow for a reason.

Shallowness exists for a reason.

With joy and cheer I continued along, I danced on the way, I slept peacefully and then walked leisurely. I sang, the tune echoed. My mind envisioned a valley of flowers and pink clouds when suddenly I tumbled down. I was hurt. My dream shattered and cold winds bruised me badly. It started hailing. I shouted angrily for snatching my peace. Who knows at whom?

The weather opposed me and pinned me down, I accepted defeat. I kept lying half dead for the time to change… when it did, I woke up and saw as the fog disappeared that there was a huge mountain standing in front of me. I couldn’t stop smiling, a new journey was going to begin. Climbing the mountain I listened again to Dylan’s The Times They Are A Changin’. I didn’t know it, but I was free.

I have always been free.

The times they are a changin’ by Bob Dylan –

Unforgettably Yours

I dare you to forget not. Forget what not? Try to remember… remember that day when…

… for the first time you crawled… you struggled to walk… you hopped all along… you won a race… you tap danced with grace… you came in style… you left wearing a smile… you befriended the walking stick… you crawled for the second time…

… for the first time you were loved… you were pampered… you were jealous… you were told to share… you were lonely… you made a friend… you believed in dreams… you knew true joy… you hurt yourself… you stood up… you worshipped time… you quietly realised… you happily understood… you loved them back…

… for the first time you felt you knew absolutely nothing… you followed their path… you managed to survive… you built a new track… you knew right is right and wrong, wrong… you travelled in time… you accepted the change… you thoroughly read writings in brief… you said of course… you said not at all… you repented and laughed at the mistake… you cheered your take… you declared that you still knew absolutely nothing…

Everything is forgotten on the way, but the journey goes on… the journey that is unforgettably yours.