Across the road

Across the road
The banyan tree whispers
The peepal tree listens
Their age old conversations unheard
Since ancient times
The carts plow on
The school children frolick
Beneath their leafy shade
Young brides tie sacred threads
Around the girth of the banyan
Smear the symbols of their wedded status
And congregate in periodic communion
The peepal forlorn
Watches from beyond time
Rooted in its space
The tree of ghosts
No one to worship it

Save Our Trees

Buildings erupt
from the corpses of ancient trees
Cold, cruel glass knifes
through the warm bowers
Once full of life,
within and without

These trees killed for people
The same people that
once played on its branches in another lifetime
The same people that
rested beneath its shade in eras bygone
The same people that
took shelter from the elements

Now there is no need of its silent strength
And so a massive life is uprooted
As a yuga ends

What makes the eyes see...

“Mama, can you see now?” my daughter asked me in the dark.
“No darling, I cannot.” I replied.
“Because there is no light in your eyes?” twinkled the beautiful brown eyes of my little girl.

An innocent exchange in which the wisdom belonged to the younger one. What is it that allows me to see? All other senses function well in the dark as well. Except the eyes. Is it the light within or without that illumines the sight in them? What is it that makes them see? What is it that pulsates the blood in our bodies? Science says, it’s the heart but what makes the heart beat? What makes it go through the pangs of separation, the fury of rage, the angst of love?