for a sister...

i see a
gentle wind,

its not a cloud,
it neither has force.

it just sweeps through faces,
gently, soothing the stupid senses,
bored 'th outward objects of beauty.

in effect,
and in a sense,
it stirs the soul,

in all of us,
tired and desparate.

this gentle wind
named `venil' in tamil
happens to be my mom's name.

my so called sister's name is shyama
may be i should accept her as she is

do winds have colours and names?

is shyama, space?
only krishna knows

theres no wind
up above the earth

there's silence,
there's stillness,
there lie simple souls.

of yours and mine
minus the timid mind

beyond the window,
the wind flows gently.

i feel love
all around me
and within self

a rare calm,
resonates round,

soul sleeps,
with it shyama.

me says sorry,
feelin sleepy.