Spirit, art and life unfolded

 Rummaging through  A buyer of discarded goods shouted from his van, "I'll buy this, that, and whatnot!" I considered selling my worries and problems, But knew his response: "No buyers for those." I scanned the discarded items, broken and worn, Yet saw potential in repurposing some. Then, I realized what I truly wanted to dispose of: Myself, the parts I've outgrown. I chuckled inwardly at the absurd thought, Amused by the whirlwind within.

 Elusive essence  A nagging doubt, "What's my essence?" Whom to ask? No father, mother, learned man, or guru in presence Glad for technology's aid, I query AI A prompt response analyzes various elements that make me Harmony of body, mind, spirit, it says But I miss the essence, in digital haze I seek the truth, beyond words and screens A felt sense, deep within, my soul's keen The search continues, through introspection's gate Listening to intuition, emotions elate Passions, values, purpose, I explore and find My essence, a mystery, unfolding in mind

 Breaking free Where am I behind smog? Lost in this lag, Good or bad, I'm losing myself, But I'm not sad, Sure, not a fad.

 Echoes of serenity  Omkaram, the primordial sound, Resonates inside, dispelling commotion around, Slowly it spreads from cell to cell, Every fibre and atom, Forming a shield against external commotion. A fleeting feeling captured in words?

 Tribute to Hussainsagar Inspired by Sarojini Naidu's 1912 poem November 14, 2024 Hussainsagar's waters languish still, Once mirroring beauty, serene and deep, Inspiring Sarojini Naidu's timeless verse, "Drinking beauty of thy luminous face," Now, development's relentless stride, Leaves concrete's scar, a tarnished tide. Arrogance and greed, side by side, Erode the lake's forgotten allure, urban pains reside. Vitality wanes, reflections blur and fade, Stench hangs in air, nature's patience frayed. Human tides trample, Sarojini's voice whispers low, Echoes of a lost grandeur, in urban woe. Yet, in memory, Hussainsagar's charm, Translucent music contril, a haunting form, Echoes of a deep, rich harmony past, Lingering whispers that forever will last.

 13th July 2022 In the zone Every once in a while, a story draws us in so deeply that we become wholly, fully immersed in it. The physical world around us tunes out, time stops, and our day-to-day anxieties, to-dos and distractions all fade away. The story’s world comes to life in a more tangible way and then real one within our imagination. That sense of fluidity between your body and mind, where you are totally absorbed by and deeply focused on something, beyond the point of distraction. Time feels like it has slowed down. Your senses are heightened. You are at one with the task at hand, as action and awareness sync to create an effortless momentum.