Tag Archives: flying


I flew a kite today
after almost three decades.

As the fragile bamboo and paper
contraption caught the wind
and whirled and dipped ,
muscle memory
flooded back and I tugged
at the string with a deftness
quite new to my middle aged

I watched my nine year old
fed on a diet of YouTube and
Playstation clap and jump with delight
at this novel display of realtime
aerodynamics, as I remembered
a tired old man, the warrior
Bhishma, lying on a bed
of arrows in the foggy
fields of Kurukshetra,
waiting for this day die.

This, holiest of Hindu holy days.


The day when winter breathes its last
and the days begin to get longer.
The nights shorter.

Less darkness.
More light.

“Tamasoma jyotir gamaya”

The ancient hymn from
Rig Veda urging us escape
the murkiness within.

To light.
To light.
To light.


The secret of flying

If you plan to be a kite
all your life you may
love the wind
but you have to be
married to the thread.

Someone to hold
you in place.
Someone to ground you.

Only then can you truly fly.

Only the orderly can
create true chaos.

The thread is
more boring
than the wind.
But it holds the kite
in place gently.

Order itself is boring
but it allows imagination
to run amok.

Don’t resent what
grounds you.

Don’t grudge the one
who repairs your paper
thin sanity daily,
prone to ripping
at the seams.

To resent stability is
especially for the
terminally insane like us.

You can smoke up all
you want, drink your self
numb, try to lose time,
my love,
but what you want and
what’s good for you
will never be the same
thing in ten thousand

Life so beautiful
you can’t have
don’t you think?

So poignant.