Ma,
I feel fear...

He flies
his tattered kite...

Young minds possess wings
of imagination to...

Its not that I don't like seasons
but I hate the way...

Your love was like
the freshness of a haiku...

Enveloped in the shadows of barriers,
my conscience searches for freedom...

Her life
gifted her pain...

Today when I opened
the book of my memories...

Little birds whisper
God's pleasant note for today...

If I could write a letter to me
I would send words of praise...

My eyes open mirthfully,
by the soft rays of the glistening sun falling...

"Amma", her voice goes
as she strides barefoot...