Babies are god's miraculous gift
sent to us with many blessings...
I can feel it
just under the surface...
Tongues of fire lick
air in a dimly lit room...
Your number navigates
amidst my eyes, too familiar, too missed...
A country called India...
When I think of my country India...
You're here again.
I glance as you enter...
They want oasis but they're building desert places...
Hunger strikes the metropolis, beggars ask for...
I had a dream once that was red, and gold,
and infinite shades of blue...
You made me see the beauty
of the sky, that muffles us...
Taking pictures is one thing I do enjoy.
Freezing something in one moment in time...
There is this whir fluttering the air
with its strange tongue...
The sweet stickiness of strawberry jam
was the air of the airport, and on...