The rhododendron trail has a roof

Clad in hues

Of departing autumn:

Orange of the maple leaf,

Ever so elegant in its fall;

Green of the magnolia,

Eager to blush at the faintest whispers

Of spring;

The barren have long shed their green

Revealing my winter blues –

An endless playground for wings.

Death is the end, only

If you think it so;

Just ask the tiny oak nut that rebels, 


And breaches the silence

Of an infinite jungle on tiptoes.

~ Sumeet



The steps are smaller

Than my nimble feet remember.

I climb them two at a time,

Skipping memories 

Like minefields.

The koels are still here

With their songs;

Masked bee eaters, spoonbills and sunbirds-

The season’s flavour-

Now add to the evening clamour.

Termites have built abodes 

With the dust of abandoned dreams

And unused melancholy 

On derelict walls –

Nostalgia has the nicest friends.

The house still stands tall but

Home has misplaced its landmarks;

There lives an abstract familiarity

Where a boy once scraped his knees bloody

On the landscape of possibilities.

~ Sumeet

A bear hug to all who read, shared & replied to my words in 2014! You are the reason i write. Stay tuned!

The stats helper monkeys prepared a 2014 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

The concert hall at the Sydney Opera House holds 2,700 people. This blog was viewed about 37,000 times in 2014. If it were a concert at Sydney Opera House, it would take about 14 sold-out performances for that many people to see it.

Click here to see the complete report.