Leaves trembling in the breeze,
A low whistle of nature’s caress.
Green multiplied upon lush green,
It takes me a minute to process.

Each tree, tall and silent as a gentle giant,
pines and deodhars at the wilderness church.
The dewy grass and the mossy overgrowth,
This- all of this- is the answer to my search.

I stroll on, drinking it all in.
My time with these woods is dear.
I have to be back in the city,
and may not be back at for a year.

I see an inviting stone, which I decline.
I walk past a crooked tree, an overgrown root.
Apart from the slight crunch of the earth,
the silence is eerie, inevitable, absolute.

I crack a smile; this is what I wanted.
Some solitude, some peace, some calm.
Life keeps happening, always. My mind
needs this break from constant alarm.

I should turn back now; the sun sets
soon. Someday I shall be back here.
Maybe I’ll walk different paths for different
reasons, but the woods shall be familiar.

I had booked a table for us at ten,
But the night was already magical when,
I last asked her if I could see her again?
She blushed, “I hope I see you more often.”

Dinner was thrill, her glee was pure,
the best part of the night. I was sure
I wanted to be with her all the more,
I feel thankful for what fate had in store.

As the raindrops come down, and see
her lovely visage is lit up! I’m free
to sing a song of my heart, and be
a nightingale, tonight, upon my tree!

I’m looking forward to feeling
something warm, something quiet.
Time’s been rough on me, old buddy,
I haven’t got a smile in me just yet.

Give me something that eases my mind,
something that takes the voices out.
Give me something smooth to
forget what my day’s been about.

Let me dwell here for a moment longer,
even though I know I cannot stay.
Give me hope and love and cheer,
old friend, give me a kiss on my way.

And when I leave, don’t miss me just yet,
I’ll be back tomorrow, I’ll drink with you again.
You give me this smile, my friend, you make my day,
You’re my cup of tea, amid the Bombay rain.

I picked a rose today,
for my girlfriend who smiles and says,
“Thanks, this brightens my day.”
And thus, I win her over every day.

The rose existed for that purpose,
I’m sure, because it brought smiles to us,
De-thorned and de-nailed, this rose,
Scissors rendering its evolution to dust.

But what’s the big fuss about?
I killed it and gave it life,
made it matter, caused a human smile,
isn’t the immortality worth a petty crime?

We protect our own, the world over.
We give it meaning in our own words,
We make children look for diamonds,
and we do it all for our human’s smile.

Kill, conquer, dominate, vanquish, burn,
we cancel living things for our fine dining.
Every animal is a predator, but none more
than man. Man is the peak.  Man is God.

A vengeful God, killing and maiming for
pleasure, for money. For a moment of magic,
he causes a lifetime of grief. For a smile
from his pretty girl, he causes a rose to wilt.

I hurried along the platform, anxiously checking
the time. That’s when I felt that gaze upon me,
following my bags, with eyes as dark as night.
I had some time to spare, and I was curious.
I called for him, he looked at me, and I stopped.

He was no more than five or six- dirty,
shy, ashamed and worryingly thin.
‘Could you give him some water’, a nearby
woman asked. I did. Something about her pricked
at me, and I wanted to hear her talk more.

Maybe it was the vacant eyes, without and beyond hope.
She seemed like she had something to say,
if only she found someone to listen.
I checked my watch again and sat down,
asked her to talk to me, maybe I could help.

She and her son, she told me, were thrown out
of their home. Begging for a place to stay, they
knocked on many unanswered doors, before settling
for this railway platform, with fellow refugees from
the world having no voice, after slipping through its cracks.

“Would have killed myself if I didn’t have to
look after him”, she muttered, watching her son
kick around the empty bottle. I asked gently if she
went to the police or her family. She shook her head,
“Who wants a mad woman? They’ll take him away too.”

She stretched her arm out, a long line of neat scars,
each white over the years, each with its own reason,
each yet another strike against her for society
and for her family, each a silent scream to regain control.

But she seemed so lucid, and was talking to me so easily. As if
to read my thoughts, she said “I know. I stopped after I was sent
away. Why did I do it then? I don’t know. Sometimes I wondered too,
and I hated myself for not knowing why. They wanted to take my son
away. Why would I hurt him? I only hated myself; I know that much.”

I wanted to do something. Anything. What could I do?
As I kept thinking, I realised how much she had already tried,
and how little of what she went through could I ever comprehend.
And what about the son? Could I leave her with him, knowing
what I know? He seemed fine, and she seemed tired of it all.

By now, my train had arrived, and I knew I had to go.
I pressed some money in her hands, even though I knew,
It wouldn’t be enough, not by a long shot. She declined,
“I pass my days on the kindness of people here.  Thanks for
listening to me.” Here was someone who had no idea what
life had in store a year from now, and she was grateful. To what?

As I boarded my train, I promised myself that I would be back,
Talk to her again, maybe help move her into a better place.
I shook my head one last time, and waited for the train
to take me away. I haven’t gone back to P3 at Purani Dilli yet,
But I hope my friend has found a way out of there.

Every day, I wake up
and stare at my roof.
Another day to tackle,
numerous chores to do.

I wish I slept some more,
I could have postponed today.
But today would still be here,
waiting for me to come.

The days don’t stop, the job goes on,
It makes no sense; life won’t wait for me.
That’s the way it works- this life,
it’s only my story when I am in it.

Life doesn’t go away, even if I do,
So I may at least get to work.
Take my place in this world and
fight the battles myself today.

I know this all, and I remind myself,
Today is another chapter, one of many,
I get to write my story today and every day,
what more can I ask from life,
than that I get to live it today?