The Wild Heart of the City

In the middle of a bustling suburb in Pune, tucked away within a broad, quiet street lined with flowers, lies a patch of wilderness.

It’s a glimpse of what used to be, before the buildings rose up; brightness and shadows kept contained by corrugated steel.

wild 1

Four trees, twisted by fate, prowl around each other among the defiant green:

wild 2

wild 3

Bougainvillea tangles into furious knots, warning greedy humans away:

wild 4

wild 5

And a young tree, full of foolish hope, dances along to the beat of the flowing creepers:

wild 6

And you?

You stand entranced. Compelled almost to tears by all this primordial intensity. Till the spell releases you, till your gaze shifts, to the road, to sweet green innocence:

wild 7


Hummingbird Happiness

Falling leaves,

Flitting hummingbirds,

– Sunlight symphony.


Sparrow Flight

Flock of sparrows,

Flutter up through the dust.

Sudden ecstasy!


Healing In The Daylight

Initinite Freedom

Your face is daylight,

Learn why don’t you, to flow free?


Emotions too big for the body,

Carried across the infinite sea—


Snowflake shy,

Your hands caress the breeze.


When will healing come,

Is that what you wonder?


With your faraway look,

Your voice trailing off into a book…


Your spirit is fire,

Feel it. Be it.


Be your own healer,

You – who are every infinity!


The Lost Love of Need and Despair


Lost 2

Just a collection of reactions,

Just a rapture felt far off.

Awake sometimes upon the ether.

Humming to a rhythm unfelt.


What’s to do with this bag of wishes,

This chitinous tentacle of need?

Words spill in a variegated tangle,

Stain the mouth they cannot feed.


There is no ‘I’ here—

Go elsewhere.

Look under the chaos,

The mangle.


Just go!

There is no one here to answer:

Your outstretched hand,

Your everything smile.


There are shadows though,

With them will you dance?

Would you clasp close, these discarded images;

That could perhaps pass for a self?



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Guardians of the Sky

Guardian 2

Hold up the sky.

Channel the sun.

Encircle the earth.

Lead us from sorrow to light!

Guardian 3


In Memory of Kafaal…

Death taints life.

Or does life taint death?

The black eyed turtle laughs,

Crawling into eternity.


Kafaal died, the day before yesterday. He was my Ma’s special dog, her closest companion. He was very friendly, thought laps were his to crawl into by right, understood everything you said to him. Loved his treats, loved milk. Would stand patiently while being bathed or dosed with medicine.

He lorded it over the whole pack for years till becoming quiet and ill in the end. he stood up and wagged his tail at Ma and then in an instant — he died.

Here he is–



Forget The Sun

Forget the Sun

Forget about the sun,

You who have not seen the sky an age—

Your shadows burn too dark.


I will sing in the sunlight,

I will dance in the rain!

I will find the light buried deep…


You experience love only through grief,

You cut yourself and others with your cold.

How will you ever fit into normal?


I carry the echoes of old wounds,

But I smile all the same.

I am me. I am. I just am!


You are one who cannot look upon a newborn child,

In the creeping cold you lie alone,

You birth weird words and wasteful things you call stories!


My words are my spirit guides,

They are healing and warming and companionship,

Bleeding away the dark like pink lightning—


With them I march,

With them I speak,

With them I am heard.



Read this week’s short story: Waiting


Bright Flight Of Whimsy


Just the bright in my life,

Give me the sparkle,

Dissipate the dross.

I want to surf the crest only,

The trough is not for me.

In the dance of lifts and swoons,

I would be ever airborne.

What do you expect,

If you trap a creature of mountain and air,

Here on the dreary plains?


Wings of mind,

Wings of spirit,

Wings of heart—

Carry me far aloft,

Into massed cloudbanks of wonder.

Indigo winds beckon,

Invite me into their play.

In a trance I dance upon the air,

Twirl around a swirling pillar of soft white,

And clap as a rainbow fills the skies.


In 2016, Fan The Sparks Of Hope

Happy New Year my dear, dear, friends! :)

Let’s make 2016 a most magical entity! Let us take the hopes and dreams of 2015 and turn it into a conflagration of raw awesomeness!

Suppose, we begin by taking a perfectly respectable spark like this:

Spark 1

And we turn it into:

Spark 2

That would be fun, wouldn’t it?

But we wouldn’t be satisfied with just that much brightness, would we?

We’d turn it up:

Spark 3

Like so!

Now we’re talking!

But why stop there?

It’s sheer awesome we’re aiming at, right?


Spark 4



Just a celebration of all things radiant!

And then for the pièce de résistance, a conflagration of proud bright!

Spark 5

That’s just happy-making., isn’t it?

Be happy in 2016, be absolutely radiant! :)



The Frost Of Lost Memory

The Glowing Cold by Radhika Mukherjee

The Glowing Cold by Radhika Mukherjee

It is the cold spreading,

Leaching away the afternoon glow.


In waking dreams,

Certainties shatter, masks slip.


And the question of you and me,



In metaphor and jagged fragments,

That merge, collide and spin.


In the chill, in the alone,

An undulating rhythm builds—


The icy embrace of lost memory,

Rocking to its missing beats.


Through The Eternal Ocean

Radiant Ocean

The Radiant Ocean by Radhika Mukherjee

Through tattered sleep,

Through realities you can only make with words,

Through a long lost radiance touched once—


There are eternities to ponder

The mysteries.


There are aeons left

To ascend.


And millennia,

To fly.





The rainbow-self sights itself.



Oh so soft!

Goes the world.



Oh so slow!

Fall the words.


A ballet of blown leaves,

Frost-coated sky,

A flower springs from the hand.


In the ocean which leads to the Heart of the World,

All may flounder,

But all must surrender.


The Haze Of Lost Memories

The Haze Of Lost Memories

The deep delicious red of a marzipan rose,

A haze of joy—

Childhood covetousness.


The Little Prince, read and re-read,

Affirmation for life,

For the essential child.


A white teddy bear, lined in red,

A late gift from an absent mother figure,

Cradled in bed nonetheless.


What’s left? What’s gone?

What doesn’t leave its mark?


I thought it was all gone,

Lost. Erased. Eviscerated.


In the making of my own world,

A lost world seems to be coming back.


Read this week’s short story Translucent at radhikamukherjee.com.



The Gap

The Gap

You become a stranger to yourself,

If you stare at the mirror long enough.

Eyes lose meaning,

And mooring.


Something goes floating,

Off in search of the heart of the world.





Filaments of Feeling

Beyond the dark, behind the eyes,

What universe lies?

What atomic secrets?


I send out fishing net feelers,

With breath and wish;

And receive – a moment out of moment…


What is this silence though?


Is it peace?

Or is it a muffling up?

Or preparation for communion?


When will I open mind, heart and spirit,

To feel deep within,

The very heart of the world?



Jewels Hidden In Moments

A Glowing Sunset by Radhika Mukherjee

A Glowing Sunset by Radhika Mukherjee

There is a jewel everywhere you look,

A glowing sunset trapped in each fragile moment,

In each hour whiled away in noise.


Treasure the rare moments of silence,

Inside, outside.


The chance to dive deep—

Into the truth.

Into the absoluteness of the self,

To the heart of the world.


Tendrils of Glory



Beseeching the Universe,

For light and glory.

Arms raised.

Eyes closed.


Mind afire.



Let Peace Prevail

A Peach Peace by Radhika Mukherjee

A Peach Peace

Peach to me is the color of peace.

Peace desperately needed.


Just breathe.

Feel the air around.

See how still it is, how calm?


It’s telling us all something.

Let that budding feeling flower into peace.



There’s A Hunger There…

Hunger and Despair

There’s a hunger there,

Running on empty,

Slipping on oil slicks,

Drying up the winter sap.


Criss-cross coruscating desires,

Wildly leaping forward,

In a thorny void.






There is but broken,

There is but ravenous,

There is chaos,

And unknowing…


And chance-touched sublimity,

That will not let go,

Of the mind.


Will paralyze life!


Salt doll had no chance,

Salt doll with her hubris,

Salt doll sullied her light.


One tiny piece of art—

Was all she wanted.

She circled and circled,

And forgot everything else!


And life sweet!

Life turned,

To others,

To love.


When will it all mesh together?


For aloneness is there a cure?

Is there any hope,

For a girl who has forgotten to speak?



Imagining A Hogwarts for Writers

writing a book

Writers waiting for their Hogwarts letters take hope, there’s an alternate magical-mystical school to aspire to:

The Holographic School of Writing and Cogitating

Read all about it in this exploration of:

What If There Was a Hogwarts for Writers?


Sun Drenched Peachness

peachness in sun


The Waves Wash Over…

The Eternal Wave by Radhika Mukherjee

The Eternal Wave

How many times does the wave have to lash the shore to wash my mind clean?

There is a secret buried deep,

An enchantment dark and proud.


Here, in the space between infinities, awash

Was perhaps a space of rest,

Of respite and resolution.


The quiet lull I sought,

Not your shatter,

Not my noise.


The dark beckons a little too deliciously

A little too dangerously,

The melody sweeps me up.


Clothed in the lightest of gossamer

That wants to melt away,

I welcome the unknown, unafraid.


Dark and light all mixed up

Half magic, half hope,

In this twilight land, we can finally become us.



Such An Important Lesson!


As the sun that beholds the world is untouched by earthly impurities, so the Spirit that is in all things is untouched by external sufferings.

~ Katha Upanishad (Translation: Juan Mascaro’)


Poetry in Purple

Purple flower


The Moon’s Waking Smile

Moon Smile


Epic Sky Medley

One my favorite things in the world is a sunset. The drama! The splendor! The colors!

Here’s a few shots from a particularly gorgeous sunset!



The Silver Lining

Silver Lining


The Trajectory Of A Silent Wish



A Glimpse Across The Tables

Hidden Girl.

Quiet Girl.

Girl exploding with feeling.


I see you.

I used to be you.


Look What The Sun Wrought

Conventional wisdom suggests that one should mainly shoot at dawn or sunset, but I’ve always been fascinated by the bright midday sun and how trees turn glowing and translucent under the strong rays of the sun.

Here are a few sun-warmed photos from a late afternoon walk: