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The Question!

The possibility that this is all there is to life confounds me!


  1. Rajesh, Everything depends on what you mean by this...

  2. My 'this' can be quite busy, filled with things I have to do in the form of chores for the family, the house, church, and others. Sometimes I wonder if what I do makes a difference - perhaps it dosen't except to my family. But if there were not a lot of other people like me doing what they can to help, then the act of omission would be noticable.
    I love to be out doors, and when I feel a little disheartened I take a breath of fresh air and somehow I smile.


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Objects in the rear-view mirror are…

When it was time for her to go, it was also time for me to let go. Once an irritant is washed out, they say you can start seeing better immediately. All that stupid tears and all that rubbing of the soul, until your eyelids would cry out, no more, no more. 
And then, just like that, one fine day, I wake up, and she was gone.
As the train chugged out
The tracks cried out in senseless
creaks of half despair


I have looked at myself
From the edges of reason
And discovered
That both my sanity and insanity
Springs forth like seasons
Out of my distances from you. Realizing thus
I have allowed the outer rims
Of my diffused sanity
To fritter away into crumbs
Of misplaced memories
From my time with you. I have often found myself being unreasonable
When I am away from you.
And generally insane
When otherwise.

Long Winter Chill

If I could do a Neruda,
You would have smelt of summer roses
And Autumn pine.
There would have been sheer love
Of the kind that causes our hearts to ache
And loneliness bordering the divine.
You would have had so many secrets
Welling up as in a girly giggle
And so few friends who would hear them all.I am no Neruda
I can't paint you a Summer breeze
Amidst this long winter chill.