Apotheosis

Did we ever give our Gods a choice?
Or were they elevated by force,
Once we removed
the deadweight of human frailty?

The Completion Conundrum

Off all the pits and falls
One endures
It is the snake at 98
that hits you the hardest

Miranda’s Right

The car screeched to a halt
Five feet too far
For the comfort of the law

The cop sauntered by
Aviator sunglasses firmly in place
Hands gently caressing the butt of a gun

"License and registration, Ma’am"
The polite inquiry shot through
The tainted windows of the old car

Miranda kept her gaze down firmly
Hoping to hide the betrayal of her pigments
Writ on her dark-brown, weathered, lonely face

It must be the distortions caused by the Phoenix heat
That sins multiply for the chosen few
And a right goes only thus far

When The Coffee Cup Empties

The stain arranges itself in a graceful arc
At the bottom of the cup
He sees it, for the fifth time
And shuffles, unsure
He turns his hand slightly to look at his watch

Her hand emerges from within the shawl
And lands gently on his wrist
Putting a shroud over time, as if

There is a time to go
And then
There is a time to stay

Aur Yeh Lagaa Sixer!

The title notwithstanding, this is neither a post about cricket nor is it about pencils. It has been six years since I started this blog. I have been posting a celebratory note practically every year for the past two-three years on this day; mostly because it is a pleasant surprise. It is like a miracle - you might believe in them, but don't really expect one to happen for you.

This is also the chance I take to thank those who have stuck with me on the journey. Lately, the number is down to a trickle, sufficient to ensure that this isn't a monologue. Thank you for your support, feedback and criticism. I have also heard rumours of a great many silent readers visiting this space. If you are reading this, please accept a note of acknowledgment. It would be good to hear from you on occasion.

There is still wind in the sails. Onwards then!