Reflections

Tall and expansive, Like a huge magnet attracting, He walked on by the side of the sea. Swaying to the music of the waves, As they splashed against the shore, Each time trying in vain, To come closer to him. As close as they could. He could hear them whining, Sometimes smiling, And sometimes talking to him. Each time he had a question, He hurled it to the waves, Abide they did, To their duty of serving their master, The Wavecatcher. Dear Wavecatcher, will you bring me that wave? Which one is it that you crave? That wave which is far far away, Bigger than you and I, Bigger than the sea, Behold, as it come towards you, Perhaps it grows bigger and bigger, Perhaps it just dies midway, I could never tell, But you can, can you? He controlled them like a magician, Creating surprises from his black magical hat. He played with them like a musician, Each note distinct and soulful. He adored them like a lover, Caressing the wo...

Only if you were in heaven would the clouds come to wish you Good morning as soon as you open the windows to your room. Or, if you are too lazy to go to heaven, you could take the 14 hour train journey from Delhi to The Misty Mountains Retreat in Jhaltola, Uttarakhand, with a stoppage at Kathgodam. Talking from experience, you get the same felling! I visited this retreat with a huge group of friends and was taken aback by the warmth of the staff, in complete contrast to the cool ambience of the place! This retreat is a quintessence of tranquility. The Misty Mountains Retreat offers you a perfect view of the mighty Himalayas on one side and the forests on the other. On days when you are very lucky, you can spot a leopard on the rocks near the retreat. An offbeat location, the retreat is a perfect getaway from the hustle bustle of the daily life. As you walk through the dining hall from your cottage, towards the innovatively designed auditoriu...

A flash of Golden light, That woke me up from the slumber of the previous night: The yielding touch of white fluffy cotton pillows, The sun shining bright with a tinge of red, The mellow sounds of water flowing from the tap, And the morning breeze whispering in my ears, An arm slung over the waist as if protecting, Fatigued body unwilling to stand, A million fast cars, And the careful knock at the door. Faint orange memories of beautiful lands visited, The leaves cracking beneath the feet, The familiar sounds of the evening chirps of birds, And the spotted brown barks of the trees, A hand held with the firmness of belief, Tireless feet walking towards no particular destination, A million scornful eyes, And the pink laughter of children playing around. The violet night blanket, The bright glittering street lights, The ocher sand tickling the feet as it washes away, An arm wrapped around with a caressing touch, An uphill walk in the blue pajamas, A million laughing lips, And the green s...

It is not the same feeling tonight. No, it is not the same happiness that I feel in my solitude shared with that girl who comes on her terrace for a walk every night. Tonight there is a feeling of eager anticipation; of her arrival. She should be here any moment, and then it would be the same. The same joy that comes from knowing you have a confident who shares the same secret as you. That is how it is every night. She walks up to her terrace – her stage lit by the silver beams. She is always performing. Sometimes she dances to the mellow tunes of the few songs that she loves to hear. Her movements are not those of a trained dancer. No, she is not a dancer. She just moves to the music, celebrating each tune, each word of the lyrics. There is no lamentation, only celebration in her movements. Sometimes, she just walks to and fro the length of the terrace, deep in thoughts. Those thoughts they reach me in clear words, as if they are directed only towards me. Those juvenile plans of sav...