Monthly Archives: November 2015


a poem by

“Teacher! Can I give the bouquet to the Chief Guest?”
“No. You can’t. We have already selected someone else.”
and soon she realized the difference between
her and that ‘someone else’… her tan.

Emptying tears and blood into the gorges of history
It plays chiaroscuro on the path of life…
She wanted to cry hoarse
that soul is superior to the shuck.

With reddened eyes and swollen face
she silently departed
collecting all her prizes.

Ten years later…
nobody understood why
the Chief Guest
after finishing her speech
walked down to a student
with reddened eyes and swollen face
placed the bouquet in her hand
and patted her on shoulder before leaving.

They will never understand for another ten years to come.

(Bolloju Baba – Original in Telugu, translated by Mr. N.S. Murthy)

The Sublimity of Life

a poem by

The first cloud that skims along
The last whiff of summer breeze
Leaves an impression of verdurous kiss
On earth’s parching lips.

The cold wind that comes riding
Over the last drop of rain
Passes off… blessing each body
With an encounter of warmth.

The Summer born
In the ultimate moments of Winter
Recedes throwing a fistful of jasmines on adults
And a chestful of memories to children.

Novelty of life and the tapering of death
Shall always fine tune
The music of Life.

Love always
Enlivens the passages of Life
With its fragrances.

What a sublime life it is
When we humbly subject to Time or Love
And surrender our Being and our Existence!!!

(Bolloju Baba – Translated from Telugu by Sri. N.S. Murthy)


a poem by

I am an Alien
I cannot recognize the faces around me
And I cannot decipher their dialect
I am unable to see the logic in their
Illogical reasoning and shocked to
Watch the mask of protest change
Into ugly violence

I am an Alien
This was the land, I, born, grown and learned
Now this land and faces look different
The pulsating hatred and fuming vengeance
Were not there when I learned my first lessons
The water around was clean and pure
Without the contaminating colors

I am an Alien
The cry for vengeance was never heard
And the streets were never turned into battlefield
There were no emotional walls to separate and
Segregate people and there was the fragrance of peace

Where is my land and where are my people?


a poem by

Fixed in a moment of agony
Of pain and shame and fear
Revisiting the moment
Regurgitating the vomit
Belonging to a sick soul
My body resists and recalls
To redeem myself is impossible
With breasts that’s grown fuller
With disturbed pangs of pleasure
The shame of his sin returns
Tormenting me, forcibly
Ageing skin and failing vision
Refuse to let go of the moment
Laughter clubs, yoga clinics
Myriad ways of escape
May be, a hand that feels the pain
Will fight the demons away… May be?


a poem by

Mask of night
Threads of darkness
Crisscrossed on
The mind’s canvas
Fragments of memory
From distant yesterdays
Return, truth laden
Pain laden
Temple flowers wither.

Deluging desire waits
In shadows of a smile
Beginning-less, endless
Disquieting beauty, angelic
Lilac skin
Fragility of butterfly wings
She is darkness for you
To sprawl upon
Waiting for
The not yet born kiss