The Hippopotamus by T.S. Eliot

The Hippopotamus_T.S. Eliot


Words and Color

Some words and colors mean more than by themselves.

Some words and colors mean more than by themselves.


Drifting within the wind
sculpting through the clouds
slowly and dispersing few,
the melody of a Robin.
Hearing her again
I lost myself while reliving
a fragment of memory
I always found delightful.


A Moment

When he walked into that empty room,
he had no pictures, just a blank black page.
A plane without a wave in his mind
neither shifting, nor curving or bending.

The working of the moments

The working of the moments

Into that spacious box, he walked,
and then, started to travel through it.
He encountered an infinitesimal sized window
on that wooden plank and he peeked.

Suddenly all those reflections from the past
came straight at the top speed known.
He sat quietly, and hoped to understand
the point, that had started dispersing.

Ubiquitously assimilating the colors
and thoughts flowing through his mind.
Moments never occurred;
only a single picture was enough.

From some, he drifted and shifted.
With some, he curled and bended.
On some, he stepped and stopped.
To some, he absorbed and observed.

Like the tail of the raindrops, piercing
into the deepest ocean of moments.
The rays, iterated and returned to oscillate
in the untouched blank black room.

Now the empty room is filled,
with the colors that are known so far.
Now he has started to revere for reverberations
along with the uncountable other desires.


Old Friend in the Woods

“Oh!! I am lampooned again.”

I wish you were here, my friend
to laugh at my misery after seeing me
struggling with my choices of life.
Stories – the old pain in those memories.DSC_2558

The coin of good and bad,
the endurance of pain and gain,
the power of freedom and chains.
The entertainer of senses and illusions.

I wish to feel that comforting presence,
not just to go through this life
but to go in it everywhere and here.
In this world, nothing is suffice.

Beautiful stories that darkness knows
that everything survives this light
and it heals in mysterious ways.
A tiny ember, my words,for the way back.

Stories- the reflected light from the places
at the edge where dawn begins and
slowly flocks together with the breeze.
Here, I wonder the oddity of space.

“Oh!! I wish to be lampooned again by you
my dearest friend.”


Note: Please read in both directions. Enjoy!





Learning grows deep and flows in time.

Putting a larger block on the base and so

Blocks after blocks, forms this beautiful life.

May learning never saturate at any certain time.

Only then will we see the truths around and deep

When we stop and observe this beautiful of Eve-ry.

May be there is an Eiffel curve in our wishful minds,

Or, Shiva’s three lined symbol of grey lying horizontal.

Or, may be it is the Pyramids in the hot, dry desert sands.

May be the stupa on the bowl and the four eyes of wisdom,

Might be the impossibilities filled in the mind of the mad man.

Struggling the way up, sliding, crawling and shifting again and again.

One decides the fortune of everything lying around, and them, their own.

Some fortunate enough to think and others leav-ing to come back again to learn.

Th-inking! Rem-ember-ing and for-getting! And, th-inking again along with the stars

Radiating their own form of light in the colors of the Blue, Green, Neon ,Yellow and Red.

To combine again as one and be this glaring light to flow freely in its own time reviving human.

The objective remains the same in all, though seems like standing on a plane-t or on a sphere-ARC.


Out of the Clouds

When the stars shine,
It comes out without fear.
To see the play in the dark
When everything is clear.nature-wallpaper-clouds-moon-night-sky-starry-x

Some fading slowly
And some burning fast.
Few have started caring for
The dreams that never last.

Hiding in the day it has
The real black world of pain.
When true colors of light are out
Everything seen goes in vain!

But tremble not now and never
For life has always found a way.
Even an old dying star lives
To see yet another day.