Believe in good things

Yellow Hydrangea (Knife Painting)

A morning view in the garden

Little krishna [the butter thief]

A scene of lord krishna and his friends stealing butter [acrylics on paper]

I am buried!

Seed to Mother tree

 

I am happy

I will be buried

Once, born in you

Cradled in many arms

I was a smiling flower

A day later changed my form

I grew bigger and older

Like you ripened, so did I

This special day I had to fall

With a hope in my soul

Fell to the ground

With the withered leaves

One holy feet, hit me hard

Sliding me into deeper grounds

And, I am happy

I am now buried

Dear Mother,I promise I will be back

Don’t you worry

I trust, the waters would sow me

The land will feed me

And this time

I will rise again

Just under your shade & care

Here begins a saga

The mysteries of life

I am born to be gone

This play begins to end

Most amazing fact of this world,

The journey of death till birth

Beauty (Tree speaks of its pain, when baby flower is plucked from it)

Breaking all my trust

Climbing on to me

They reach you finally

They love you

Your beauty, fragrance and taste

But forget it’s the story I lovingly narrate

They say

I am old, dead and dark

So call me an ugly scaly bark

Yes I am, because

To you I have given everything

My colour, life and spark

You sing & smile at them

As they near your stem

You are happy, they like you

They too are, that you come in due

And now, I cry a lot

But leave no spot

Even if I do

Its lost in my wrinkled lot

Who knows I am alive

And you are still my part

And I will die once you depart

After all, my little flower

I am your dear mother

Aged that I am

Can’t stop them…damn