The Pursuit of Happiness

The pursuit of happiness,

Ah, there lies the fallacy,
When one seeks,
One gets,
But is it
What is expected?

Happiness lies

In the moment,
Don’t let it go,
Let it flow,
Enjoy what you have,
This moment,
It will not come again.

Let it not be wasted
In pursuits futile,
In death is
Peace perfect
That won’t matter,
So live the moment,
And let
Happiness find you.

Who I Am

I wrote this poem while listening to this wonderful sacred music. Reading the poem as the music plays to experience the fullness of the peace I felt. ***************** I walk the sacred path in silence allowing the healing energy of Mother Earth to fill me, heal me. I walk the sacred path in honor, in […]

Who I Am

Valentine with a twist

Wrote this poem today morning in Hindi. I do not know why. That’s the language the thoughts came rushing in and I just wrote it quickly before forgetting. Afterwards I translated it to my mother tongue Axomiya (Assamese) and English. Posting them in the same sequence here.

Continue reading “Valentine with a twist”

Feelings of the Heart – a ghazal?

I wrote this ghazal in my mother tongue Axomiya (Assamese) yesterday and tried to translate it to Hindi. After a few futile attempts, I gave up as I just could not maintain the rhythm. Today I tried translating it to English and found that it was flowing much more smoothly though I should not call it a ghazal. I tried to follow the rules as closely as I could but not sure if I succeeded. Hence the question mark in the title. I post the poems in the order written.

Continue reading “Feelings of the Heart – a ghazal?”

A final phweet

The tweets from toilets were stopped,
The bully pulpit slipped away,
The swamp did not get drained, prisons did,
A final executive order revoked an earlier one,
Opening the flood gate to refill the swamp again,
Pardoned cronies will need a job,
What’s better for the alligators than the swamps of Washington,
After all the conman needs money to live his lifestyle,
Airforce One not his private jet any more,
His name in the dump, he schemes for a resurrection.

And a faded sunset beckons, hinting
A tarnished legacy,
Humiliation and oblivion.

Those Red Lips

The day started with light banters with friends in some WhatsApp groups and soon I ended up writing a short poem in Hindi that I translated in short order to my mother tongue Axomiya ( Assamese) and English. So far so good. However trying to present all three poems side by side in one page proved more troublesome than writing and translating the poems. To make a long story short, after some trial and error, and unfortunately munching on snacks that were surely unwanted, here I am. Rest assured the poem is light, however after all those snacks I cant say that for myself.

Photo in the background free from internet.

Original Sin and the Forbidden Fruit

Thy thin waist, the
Twin crescent moons,
In those curves
I dive,
Douse my love, and
Emerge purified;
The puritans, the believers,
Paint it as lust.


Those who look for beauty,
Only in merging with
The one unseen,
Blind are they to nature’s gifts, and
Brush it as the original sin.


Let them search
For the fountain of
Everlasting peace in heaven,
One never seen,
I have found mine
In my imagination,
And is blessed,
By the forbidden fruit.