Telepathy

[That's when you know you've found somebody really special...when you finish each other's ... :]

I wish to forget you every morning,
You forget to wish me each day;
It's been so long since you last did ring-
Since you threw my ring away.

And then, I sense your message come through
On channel telepathy:
"If the phone rings, someone's remembering you-
If it doesn't, must be me."

The Lotus Sutra

[I quote: "You cannot make someone fall in love with you. All you can do is be a really good friend; and it's upto them to realise your worth."
I was trying an Onegin stanza, but try as I might, I just couldn't get the last couplet right. So here it is, minus the couplet ]:

The raindrop loved the lotus pink,
It fell on the flower's petal;
But lest the drop, the lotus sink,
It wasn't allowed to settle.

Nothing did the drop's love lack,
Yet 'twas thrown off the petal's back;
And just another drop in the pond,
The lotus's lover itself found.

Still it kept on with its strife:
This drop did beat the rest of them,
Entered the lotus through its stem,
And now became its life.

The Coming of Age

[A haiku on turning twenty.]

You said, I followed:
You fed, I swallowed..of yore.
Ah! not any more!

The Last Few Leaves

[Somewhere in this vast city of Bombay, lies a street- running parallel to the railway track near Grant Road station. It is a quiet, peace-loving neighbourhood, away from the dirt and grime of vehicular traffic.
Towards the Tardeo end of the street, almost hidden from view, is a tree: a drumstick tree that's truly magical..]

When I wake up every morning,
The first things that I see
Are the leaves- the lush green leaves
Of a drumstick tree.

It has been there at that same spot,
Ever since I’ve known;
Under each other’s watchful eyes,
We both up have grown.

The tree was there, I remember, when
I first, my bike, did ride;
And every game of hide-and-seek,
Behind the tree, I’d hide.

The tree, it served as a football post,
When the leaves, they turned to chrome;
Below it, we would sit and chat,
‘Til ‘twas time to go back home.

The tree, it has been privy to many a
Childhood conspiracy;
And though we went and told the others,
It maintained its secrecy.

The drumstick tree, it knew it when I
Had my very first crush;
And during the heat of that first kiss, it
Blew down a cooling gush!

The drumstick tree was always there, when I wanted
Company to study,
To collect my thoughts, or read a book,
Or write my poetry.
_

I could not see the drumstick tree, when I
Woke up on this day:
The tree’s still there- it’s not been chopped-
It’s me who’s moved away.

The trees outside my house now have
Such colourful flowers and fruits;
Yet, I think of the drumstick tree,
For that’s where lie my roots.