One day, a summer day, after years, after I had crossed my teens and sought my degree, I was trekking. I was tracing back to my village to trace my half-forgotten race. I met a grey bearded man, old of age on my way to my village space, to accompany me. He started to sing of time, of times best gone by, when we sat besides a spring to rest a while. On a creeper besides the spring, grew a cucumber, fat beside the spring in a slumber.

Very nice.
Slice it twice. Continue reading

Dhiya Dudhu Pii

One fine morning, I happened to pass through a jungle with my father. I was deep in thought at one with the music of silence when I heard a bird sing. Did she sing or did she wail?

Dhiya Dudhu Pii! Dhiya Dudhu Pii!

She refrained as if she had missed the cues of her song.
“Father, is she asking the little ones to drink milk?” I asked father.
“Yes” he replied. Curious, I asked again “But why does she sing so?” Continue reading


He fickled up and down
As the moon did shy
For fort time, not of nature
But of his ego ‘I’

He had forsaken his cosy home for the desolate of the wild. But soon had yielded to the forces of nature and yearned for the break of morn, so as to go back home. Continue reading