A traveler from an antique land

• The Salk Institute

Water rushes forth

To meet the blue, cloudless sky

Where the parachutes float about

Splashing colors.

• The Lighthouse:

Standing on a cliff

By the Light house

On a cold dark night;

We watched as the wind pummeled the sea.

• Rain 01:

Rains in LA

Like a slushy concoction

Gulped down at one go

Freezing the brain.

• Rain 02:

Rains in India

Like a cool drink

Under a burning sun.

• The Sun:

Yesterday the glowering Sun

Singed my skin

Burnt Sienna.

• The City:

In the City the sound of birds,

Hits the concrete and ricochets off

Closed doors, closed windows.

• The River Indus:

A great river once flowed here

On this land that is no longer ours;

They call it the “Mound of the dead”

Where we search for the glory of our ancestors.

Piece by piece we will uncover the tale,

That has remained untold for centuries.

• Temple 01:

Long forgotten

The temple on the hill;

Etched on stone plaques

Are gallant village warriors

Eternally silent,

Guarding the entrance.

• Temple 02:

We peered into

A cave on that hill

Damp and dark;

An empty stone seat in the center.

• Temple 03:

We saw a path

Well below the hill

Beautiful paved stones

Like a picture post card;

Who takes this path and where to?

• Temple 04:

The pipe I gifted you

With a heart full of love;

After all these years

When I see it in your hands again

I cry rivers

Remembering my innocent love.

• Orchha 01:

Measuring, sketching

The room, the walls, the intricately carved windows

On the ground floor of Jehangir palace

My fingers grow stiff with cold;

Every once in a while I run out

Into the warm sun lit courtyard.

• Orchha 02:

On top of the high Fortress wall

With barely space for one

I hold my friends’ hands

As we walk single file

Along the perilous ramparts;

I shudder as I look below

What did the soldiers see?

• Orchha 03:

In the early morning fog we walked

Unable to make out

Even the person in front;

Suddenly the stone temple appeared before us

Its star shaped form

Like a small lighthouse.

• Orchha 04:

A teahouse next to the hotel

Hot tea and breakfast in early mornings;

The day I’m leaving, the owner’s child

Calls out, “Didi are you going,

Without saying goodbye?”

Tears well up in my eyes.

• Orchha 05:

Wandering among the ruins with friends

Lovely memories of Orchha

Warm people, ancient monuments;

Now that the friends are gone

Still wandering

Amid ruins of memories.

• Motherland:

Like the scorned lady in the painting

Who shed her ornaments

Into the forest clearing

When her lover failed to arrive;

Sorrowfully do I discard

The remnants of my motherland.