Ants, Oh, Tiny ants Procession of soul’s droplets
Ten Million years ago Your species came into existence on this earth
You are the tiniest wonder of the world
Would you lend me your ears As I wish to speak to you

“To chit chat and waste our time

We are not humans

Whatever you wish to speak

crawl and come along with me”

You are Lilliput world
of one centimeter
Have you ever felt belittled
That you are a feeble creature

“Oh stupid humans

pharaoh ant are tiniest

in our species

We can lift fifty times

More of our own body weight

but are you capable”?

What’s your hobby??

“Life itself is a hobby

Searching is our sport

And crawling is our rest

In our short span of life

Destined to end within six or ten weeks

Where is the time to rest

And where is the time to sleep”?

Then why to struggle
For this meager life?

Like humans, we do not have

one belly but two

One is to digest and the other to save

The saving part is meant for

our fellow ants to feed on

And this struggle is for the sake of these two

Can you define
The pride of your species

“Our colony civilization is older than

The Indus Valley Civilization

A harem for the fertile queen

A quarters for sterile servant ants

A graceful graveyard

To bury the dead ones

A large storage space

To save the food at rainy times

This is the beauty of our kingdom

You are the lengthy proofs

Of our petite life, indeed”

Have you ever wondered at yourself
And on what occasion?

“Frailty is our life

Even if struck with delicate peacock feathers

But we are mighty enough to

Kill an elephant”

What do you hate and what do you love?

“Hate - the sprinkled seas, upon us

When the floors are cleaned

Love - the benevolent women

Who decorate the earth with rice flour”

What will you do
If the grains you saved sprout?

“As we carry the grains

The hysterectomy is done

When the tip is broken

They sprout not, oh human”

Your unforgettable incident?

“Death of our 4000 ancestors

crushed at the time of your non-violent war”


Why do you kiss the ants
crawling towards you?

“Its an attempt to sniff and identify

Whether they are from our clan

If they are one of us, we give them way

If not we block and fight”

Oh, Little idols
Which is your great pride?

“If the Army Ants of Amazon

Find a dead elephant on the way

They move ahead only after feeding on it, completely

The bellies of those ants

Are the burial grounds of elephants”

Is Non-violence
Your way of life?

“No, we do have way-laid robbery

And war among us

To announce the danger

We make noise and gestures”

Sounds of Ants…
Oh we never heard of…

“If humans are deaf

Its not the fault of ants”

Thank you dear ants, Thank you

“We ought to thank you”

But why do you have to thank me?

“The world so long was praising

And pennwd Puranas about

Unseen Kamadenu, the Mythological cow

And Adishesha, the Mythological snake

Which might not have even existed

Nevertheless, fondly you thought of us,

At least today – for that sake”!
*****   *****  *****


Today or tomorrow…

Now or later

I may fall

I am oscillating

in the last string

If the brushing wind

Turns emotional

If a kissing droplet of rain

Falls upon my nose

If a bird on my branch

Perches and flutters its wing

I may fall

Bid adieu, dear branch

How many charge sheets

Are framed upon me till now

I nod my head

For the discordant notes

Of the wind

Show my welcoming green signal

To the birds that perch and excrete

I always caress

The leaves near me, all day long

But now on my death bed

My fellow leaves have pardoned me

If so..

Is life incomplete?

and..Is only the death complete?

Fulfilled life is my life

The earth turned cold

In the sprinkle

Of my bathing

The rays of the sun

Reached the earth

Only after touching me

In my breath of the dawn

The foul air turned chaste

I took from this tree

Very little as my share

But gave back abundantly

In my life

There of course, are two

Unforgettable incidents

A terrible night

of an unknown cyclone that turned a slayer

of Age old trees and the tender plants, alike

A romantic morn

When I covered my face with my fellow-leaf

On seeing the mating of bees upon flowers

In shyness

On a fine day
A bird that perched in my branch
Kindled me

“Oh poor leaf!

Have you ever wept in sorrow

Of not being born as a flower or fruit?”

I rustled aloud
With the help of wind
Kindled me

“Thank God, I am not a flower

Because the bees will not

play with my chastity

My goodness, I am not a fruit

And am saved from parrots

Who woud tear and savour me

Being what you are is heaven

And yearning is hell”

There comes

My death in the shape of wind


My corpse fall

Upon the earth

Give me way..give me way

Oh colourful butterflies

Keep aside….keep aside

Oh ephemeral creatures

Thank you Death

Thank you

You have come to bestow a boon

Which my life failed to offer

Now, I am going to kiss my Mother Earth

For the first time in my life

From whom I stayed away all my life

I am coming to you dear Mother

I am coming

Embrace me, Embrace me

Aha … what a pleasure

This is Adhvaitha

Don’t be morose

This is not the end

But a new beginning

Life is a cycle

Death is its ornament

The cycle moves on

I am certain to be back

To your branch

In another form

Through your roots

Could you, for once,

Make all your leaves

clap for me


If earth spins backwards

What do you wish to see?

         -Time enquired me

“Siddhartha’s renunciation”

was my answer

Earth travelled in lightning speed

And stopped at the place of my wish

Palace of Kapilavasthu

In a solid state of absolute stillness

The ashes of the morn

Permeated the night

Unable to comprehend

That was an unforgettable night

The orphaned Moon was gloomy

Moon is brightness, even in gloom

The lights of the city

Closed their eyes and slipped into slumber

Hoping, bees could not find their way

Blossoms of orchards partially covered themselves

With leaves and slept

Drinking excessively from the plant-gobblets

the inebriate wind tumbled, perhaps broke its leg

and was tranquil

Leaving the stars to guard

The Moon slept in the middle of the sky

Siddhartha was in the last moments

Of his palatial life

Standing at the threshold of his new birth

He gazed at his extravagant self with detachment

His wife was asleep

As if sacrifice itself was sleeping

Siddhartha bent

A droplet of kiss fell on her lotus face

His caressing fingers refused to depart

The curly tress of his son


his feet touched the luxury of sandals

But then, kicked off

“Wait Siddhartha” –

The staircase of the castle admonished

“Welcome, Buddha” – the rustling leaves

Of a distant Bodhi tree greeted heartily!

Yasodhara shivered in her dream

Where a bird in flight suddenly turned into a star

And woke up

The regal emptiness of the bed

Communicated everything

All her senses broke

She ululated through her sobs

“Oh Mightiest of all kings!

You renounced the pleasures of life

Desirous of obtaining wisdom

You left a kingdom in the size of your palm

But will attain the Universe

You renounced the crown

But will adorn the Halo

If obtaining the bestowed best

Than the meager renouncement

Then, Renouncing is not great

Dear Son of Sudhodhana

Your life moves towards peace

And mine towards nothingness

A refugee in my own country

A widow adorned with flowers

A saint with a heir

You are not the one who renounced

It is Yasodhara and none other than Yasodhara”

Unable to tolerate the heat of her tears

The earth began to spin forward

And stopped at the ‘Present’


“Kill”, “Loot”

Words that have dominated history

“Embrace”, “Kiss”

Words that cots have listened the most

“Lullaby”, “Oh..Saturn”

Words that have hovered the most over cradles

“When is your wedding”

Words of arrows aimed at a Call girl, the most

“Memorize”, “You will not succeed”

Words that echoed the most in classrooms

“Have a last look”

Words that are mourned, the most, over graveyards

“River of Milk and Honey”

Words that have lured a Common Man, the most

“Forget not to drop a letter”

Words that Railway stations reverberated the most

“Sir is bathing”

Words that telephones have murmured the most

“Dad is angry”

Words that have most frightened the kids

“Please” “Pardon”

Words that Europe is most familiar with

“You should have come yesterday?”

Words that the borrowers have regretted the most

‘All in the hands of God”

Words that filled sorrows to the hospitals, the most

“Enough is enough”

Words have lost their colours

In the beaten track

Now let us clear the cobweb

From each word

Let us change

the order of the words

Let us oxygenate

Each word

Change of words

Can change the life

First let us save

The words from life

Then, from the semantics

Considering the length and breadth of life,

Let us decrease or increase Our vocabulary

“He is dead” –

Instead, let us make it as

“He won the life”

“Failure” –

Let us through and say

“Success that stands away”

“Enemy” –

But why use this?

Let us call him “a distant friend”

If there is fight between a couple

Let us call it as “Wild Love”

If we see a leafless tree in autumn

Let us celebrate it as

“Beginning of next spring”

If an ailing body is bedridden

Let us say

“The tired body is resting”

If a drop of ink stains a white shirt

Let us wonder

“Ah, what a bright white around the stain”

When it is a new-moon night

Let us praise it as

“Star filled Delight”

Let the negative words be

Gone forever

Let positivity

Be the soul of life

Let us craft the old words

And replant them

In a new land

When the redundant words

are dead and gone

“Salt-less” life can turn

“Sugary” again!


On seeing the guns

Frightened, you might have raised your wings

As you have no hands to raise

Death would have folded

The last wing that was raised

What would you have thought

In your final flutters?

Perhaps, you would have wondered

the path to death is too long

Or might have wept, thinking

What kind of culture is it to cook the guest?

Or might have grinned foe becoming

A prey when you were in search of food grain

Or would have sighed for taking leave from your flocks

for a journey to visit the country of non-violence

Or might have been tearful

for not being able to cross a little pond

Though your mighty wings could cross an ocean

Or would have quivered to convey

At least send a feather of my wing

to my precious mate

Or might have perturbed

Between the Earth and the human stomach

Which of the two will be your grave?

Or might have vaguely remembered the Hindu faith

That South is the Direction of Death God Yama

Or might have languished on the thought of

Your unfulfilled desire to learn the ‘Language of Birds’

Or might have ached for dying without knowing

the technology of building a weaver bird’s nest

Or might have simply Rested In Peace

Hoping that the neighbouring birds

Would shed tears of the death of any bird

But my sincere prayer is only one -

“Let this poor little dear bird

Know not that King Sibi lived here on this land”