O moon !

 

This half-smile of the moon tonight,

Feels like a soul, gently incomplete,

Yet in its silence, it softly speaks,

Whispering truths so tender, so sweet.

Cradled in the arms of the darkened sky,

A glow so pure, so calm, so far,

And still it feels so close to me,

Like a familiar, quiet star.

Just this glimpse of you is enough,

To fill my dreams, to light my way,

O moon—whole or broken in parts,

You make my world shine anyway.

Even your scars feel beautiful to me,

Even your silence sings like a song,

You may not speak, yet every night,

You tell me where I belong.

Perhaps I’m a little like you,

A little unfinished, softly undone,

And maybe in this shared incompleteness,

We become whole—just as one.

~ Dawn

A walking bundle of laughter

 

Mic in hand, with a style so unique,
The moment he walks in—no one can stay meek.

He starts off calm, almost serious in tone,
But the laughter he sparks quickly overflows.

He pauses, thinks… then drops a perfect line,
And suddenly, everyone’s laughing at the same time.

A simple face, but a mind full of spark,
Every word he speaks hits straight to the mark.

Not just a man, but a moment of cheer,
A walking bundle of laughter, standing right here.

~ Dawn

A simple little story,

 

Wrapped in a warm dosa, a simple little story,

A quiet plate filled with everyday glory.

In its crisp golden layer, a gentle calm resides,

Each bite brings comfort that softly abides.

Like coconut chutney—pure, soft, and light,

Like sambar—warm with a hint of spice.

Served on a leaf, so humble and true,

Like finding something familiar in all that we do.

Pause for a moment, just smile and be,

Let small joys unfold so effortlessly.

Perhaps life is just like this plate we see—

Simple, colorful… and beautifully free.

~ Dawn

A gift of rhythm

 

In the folds of a saree lives a world of melody,

Each beat of the drum carries a quiet longing within.

In every strike of the hand, a rhythm finds its voice,

In every echo of the drum, identity begins.

A smile softly hums with notes unspoken,

In every tune, life’s quiet dignity is woven.

This is not just sound—it’s an ancient song,

A gift of rhythm that has traveled generations long.

In every cadence lives the spirit of celebration,

In its pulse resides an entire world in vibration.

In every beat, the heart finds a voice again,

Speaking in rhythms words could never explain.

~ Dawn

Happy Vishu

 

Golden blooms hang like a message of Vishu bright,

In Konna flowers lives Kerala’s every dream and light.

With the first rays of dawn, when they adorn the home,

Every corner whispers joy, no shadows left to roam.

Beneath the shade of Kannikonna, as Vishukkani is laid,

Each yellow petal carries blessings, gently displayed.

In temple chants and sacred songs, their fragrance softly blends,

In every prayer and offering, their quiet grace descends.

Even in childhood memories, their golden hues remain,

A mother’s careful setting—still alive within the frame.

These are not just flowers, but traditions held with pride,

In every Vishu celebration, they stand close by our side.

~ Dawn

Happy Birthday !

 

My dear Rhea, my quiet joy,

You’ve brightened life since you were a little girl.

Your smile still feels like home to me,

In your dreams live all I hope to see.

I remember your tiny hand in mine,

And now you’re growing, finding your own shine.

With every year, may you grow and be,

Happy, kind, and truly free.

Happy Birthday, my love,

Keep smiling, always.

Mom ❤️

~ Dawn

This is not just tea you hold...

 

In an earthen cup so warm,

This is more than tea’s soft charm,

In the very first sweet sip,

Feels like home upon your lips.

In the rising, gentle steam,

Lives a mother’s kitchen dream,

Every sip holds memories bright,

And a touch of childhood light.

By the roadside, evening chill,

Or sleepy mornings, calm and still,

This humble cup of chai somehow,

Draws your wandering heart back now.

As it touches waiting lips,

All the weariness slowly slips,

One more sip… then one again,

Smiles return without refrain.

In the earthy, fragrant clay,

Lives a warmth that wants to stay,

This is not just tea you hold,

But a bond—timeless, pure, and old.

~ Dawn

It gifts a stillness

 

In this little cup, a tiny world,

A flower blooms in foam unfurled,

A gentle whisper of coffee’s grace,

Softly touches the heart’s quiet space.

Placed upon marble, calm and still,

This cup feels warm beyond its fill,

Like morning light at break of day,

Or a mother’s love in a tender way.

In every sip, a comfort lies,

Like home beneath familiar skies,

A hint of bitterness lingers too,

Yet sweetness follows, pure and true.

That empty chair beside the table,

Waits for someone, if only able,

Or perhaps it calls you to simply be,

To meet your own quiet company.

This is no coffee, it’s a feeling deep,

A pause the restless world can’t keep,

Between the rush of all we do,

It gifts a stillness, soft and true.

~ Dawn

Each heart sings a tale ..

 

Beneath a blanket of endless blue,

The city stands proud in its view,

Amidst the towers rising high,

A river hums its gentle sigh.

In quiet waters, the world reflects,

Like a dream the moment protects,

In whispered waves, soft and deep,

The noise of life is lulled to sleep.

These buildings lining either side,

Hold stories time cannot hide,

Even in life’s relentless pace,

They offer stillness, a breathing space.

Boats drift on like wandering dreams,

Moving ahead in silent streams,

And the bridge—like a bond so true,

Joins two worlds in a single view.

Within this city lives a calm,

A lonely hush in the bustling swarm,

Where every face is strange, unknown,

Yet every gaze holds depths its own.

Between the sky and emerald flow,

Life keeps moving, soft and slow,

In the city’s quiet, steady beat,

Each heart sings a tale unique.

~ Dawn

Oh life !

 

What a life this life can be—what a curious, shifting tale,

It walks beside us hand in hand, yet leaves us lone and pale.

It binds our hearts to many souls, draws every stranger near,

Then softly teaches distance too—that solitude is clear.

Not just to live, but crave to live—it plants that restless need,

And once we grow accustomed, it sows a deeper seed.

“Walk your path, be set apart, don’t lose yourself in the crowd,

You came here all alone,” it says, “leave smiling, gentle, proud.”

This game of life is strange indeed—each plays by different rules,

No soul can truly carry yours, no borrowed strength or tools.

So place no weight on fragile hopes, let your heart stay light and free,

If someone hears, then let it be—if not, just let it be.

Don’t spend your breath in proving things, or chasing to be known,

Life’s quiet truths reveal themselves when you stand on your own.

O life, your ways are wondrous still, your patterns rare, untold,

You walk beside, then slip away—leaving silence to unfold.

~ Dawn

May your spirit always sing

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The queen of melodies now sits in silent grace,

As if the music of her soul has slipped from time and space.

The voice that held our hearts through joy and hidden pain,

That soothed our restless spirits—will it ever sing again?

Through every shade of life she wove her gentle art,

A note for every feeling, a rhythm for each heart.

Even in laughter, in mimicry and play,

Her voice was the magic none could take away.

Asha Tai, your leaving has left an aching void,

From childhood days to now, your songs we all enjoyed.

Your melodies sustained us, gave calm in every storm,

A timeless, tender presence—so human, yet so warm.

Now only echoes linger, soft upon the air,

A voice that time cannot erase, forever living there.

Immortal in our memories, in every note you gave,

A song that lives eternal, beyond the silent grave.

For parting is the truth each living soul must face,

One by one we fade away in life’s unending race.

But wherever you may wander, may your spirit always sing,

In a world of endless music, crowned forever as its queen.

~ Dawn

“Gum Wall”

 

There was a time when laziness had its own quiet art,

When, after the flavor faded, gum found walls to depart.

Day by day the surface filled with colors, random and bright,

By morning, hands would clean it all—restoring blank to white.

This ritual carried on, unchanged in careless flow,

While those who cleaned grew weary, yet had no choice but go on so.

And slowly, curious eyes began to see a different view,

What once was idle habit, felt like art to some who knew.

What started as neglect became a spectacle to see,

Now people pose for pictures there, in strange admiration’s glee.

Even today, if the city wipes the canvas clean once more,

By dusk, the wall is colored back—just like it was before.

Now known as the “Gum Wall,” a place of quirky fame,

Who knew that simple laziness would build such a name.

~ Dawn

Keep living—until the race is run

 

What a fierce, unyielding life this is—each breath demands its due,

To live at all, we labor twice; there’s no easy passing through.

Be it human or humble creature, the truth remains the same,

Every breath is earned with effort, every step a quiet flame.

Here, each soul must bear its burden, none can shift the weight away,

On this road, we walk alone, carving strength from day to day.

Life spares no one its trials; it plays no gentle part,

Even breaths feel rented here, taxed upon the heart.

Only through the heat of striving comes a moment’s fragile peace,

Life’s a test we keep on taking, with no promise of release.

I too wander in this journey, striving hard beneath the sun,

For to live is to keep living—until the race is run.

~ Dawn

AI in our hands...

In circuits of thought and rivers of code,

A new kind of intelligence quietly flowed.

Born not of breath, nor heartbeat’s art,

But shaped by the brilliance of the human heart.

From ChatGPT that weaves words into light,

To DALL·E painting dreams in colors bright,

From GitHub Copilot whispering code in a developer’s ear,

To Midjourney crafting visions surreal and clear—

These tools are echoes of minds that dare,

To build, to imagine, to deeply care.

Algorithms dance where ideas begin,

A partnership forms—of soul and silicon.

Yet behind each line, each spark, each start,

Lies a human dream, a restless heart.

For AI may learn, evolve, and grow,

But it mirrors the truths that we bestow.

In hospitals, it heals; in classrooms, it guides,

In stories, it listens; in data, it hides.

A quiet companion in a world so fast,

Bridging the future with echoes of the past.

But let us remember, as we rise and create,

We are the keepers of balance and fate.

For technology shines its brightest hue,

When it walks hand in hand with the human in you.

Not man versus machine, nor a battle to be,

But a symphony played in shared harmony.

Where wisdom meets wonder, and logic meets art—

AI in our hands, but humanity in our heart.

~ Dawn 

Earth—adorned in beauty

 

Four voyagers sailed into the silent skies,

Chasing my moon with wonder in their eyes.

But from the vastness, what they chose to share,

Was Earth—adorned in beauty beyond compare.

A canvas of blue with whispers of green,

The most breathtaking sight they had ever seen.

My moon is dear, with its silver glow,

Yet carries scars that quietly show.

But Earth—oh Earth—so vibrant, so alive,

A living poem where colors thrive.

Enchanting, serene, a soulful sight,

Holding the universe in gentle light.

I wonder if beings from distant spheres,

Gaze at this world with the same reverence I hold dear.

The way my heart belongs to the moon above,

Perhaps they too are bound by Earth in love.

For love like this knows no boundary or place,

It travels through time, through infinite space.

Some fall for the moon, soft and afar,

Some for the Earth—the brightest star.

~ Dawn

Where Are These Roads Leading Us?

Roads—

everywhere.

Here. There. Everywhere.

Some rise above the earth,

some sink below it,

stretching upward—

as if trying to touch the sky.

Flyovers climb higher and higher,

and we rush across them—

faster than ever before.

But where are we going?

What are we crossing over—

distance,

or meaning?

These empty roads—

what destination do they truly lead to?

Because tomorrow…

they may not even exist.

One blast—

and everything we built

turns to dust.

All that effort,

all that creation—

reduced to silence.

And the truth is—

it is not nature.

It is us.

Humans,

destroying what we once dreamed into being.

So tell me—

why build at all,

if we are only preparing

to erase it?

Why climb so high,

if we are ready

to fall back

into the life

of our most primitive past?

What are we becoming?

~ Dawn

It Feels Right

 

To be with myself, to spend time within—it feels right,

To sit with my thoughts and quietly listen—it feels right.

Be it a place unknown or one I’ve always known,

Among strangers too, to simply exist—it feels right.

Even when hatred and bitterness fill every space,

To guard a little love in the heart—it feels right.

When people seek friendship in lifeless figures alone,

To step away from such hollow bonds—it feels right.

What strange times we live in, what silence surrounds truth,

To speak what is real, even if it hurts—it feels right.

If kindness, sincerity, and love still survive somewhere,

To hold onto them with all I have—it feels right.

Why is it now, more than ever before,

That quiet, lifeless company comforts me—it feels right?

~ Dawn

Waiting for Five

 

The streets whisper all day long,

Echoes keeping silent watch,

As the house slowly empties—

Everyone gone,

Chasing their daily worlds.

And I wait.

I wait for footsteps,

For familiar sounds,

For the door that will open

Just for me.

Strangers pass by—

Even other dogs,

Glancing my way

As if to tease,

As if they know

I’m still here… waiting.

But I am patient—

Or at least, I try to be.

Because I know,

My time will come.

When the evening softens,

And the clock nears five,

A leash will find its way to me—

And I will be free,

If only for a while.

So I count the moments—

Quietly, eagerly—

When will it be five?

When will they come for me?

~ Dawn

Lessons We Never Learned

 

In school—

we read about wars.

Not games…

not victories…

but blood.

Loss.

Silence

after the screams.

They called it… history.

And our teacher said—

“Learn from it…

so it never happens again.”

But tell me—

If we learned…

then why

is it happening again?

India. Pakistan.

America. Iraq.

Israel. Palestine.

And now—

Russia. Ukraine.

America. Iran.

Different names…

same graves.

So where are they?

The ones who taught us?

The ones who were supposed to learn?

Why is no one—

pulling them by the collar

and saying—

THIS.

IS.

WRONG.

This is not strategy.

This is not politics.

This—

is humanity

bleeding.

Tell me…

why don’t we fight poverty instead?

Why don’t we build homes

instead of graves?

Why don’t we give people

a chance to live—

not just survive?

What have we become?

We know what’s right.

We know what’s wrong.

And still—

we watch.

Wars begin.

Lives end.

And we scroll.

Our ears?

Numb.

Our eyes?

Tired.

No explosion…

no scream…

shocks us anymore.

Are we still human?

Or are we monsters—

hiding behind comfort?

Or worse…

walking corpses?

Why does no one

hold them accountable?

Take them—

not to power,

but to truth.

Make them sit.

Make them listen.

Make them feel—

every loss they signed away.

Because maybe—just maybe—

One day…

In this broken, war-torn world…

Someone will wake up…

And choose peace.

And maybe then—

We will finally learn

the lessons

we were taught as children.

~ Dawn

Moon, My Quiet Companion

Life's longing did something strange to me -

The moon became my friend from childhood days.

Whether I found friendship in people or not,

With the moon, my love sank deep into my soul.

Childhood passed, and youth quietly arrived,

Yet my love for the moon only grew stronger.

With each passing night,

I tucked a little more of it into my heart.

And now—

Why does the moon seem only half in the sky?

Perhaps the other half of its heart

Has stayed behind with me.

I still hope, someday,

It will descend in search of me—

The way I’ve followed it

Through every street, every corner, every night.

~ Dawn

A silent bud blossomed

I brought that pot of flower home with tender care,

Yet seasons passed - no bloom was waiting there.

Months slipped away, then years quietly moved on,

I kept asking why no bud chose to appear.

I played the gardener’s role with patience and grace,

With water and hope, I nurtured it here.

At times it seemed a bud might finally rise,

But dry leaves gathered—nothing but illusion, unclear.

When hope itself had quietly faded away,

A silent bud blossomed, soft and sincere.

Adorned in violet blooms, it healed the waiting heart,

A gentle reminder—faith is always near.

Keep doing your part without longing for reward,

For in time, every effort finds its sphere.

~ Dawn

Learning still

 

Life is a journey strange—yet we are learning still,

We’ve grown in years, not in wisdom—learning still.

We thought in childhood, books would teach us all,

But beyond those pages, life keeps turning—learning still.

Who said that knowledge lives in schools alone?

In every breath and fall, we’re yearning—learning still.

To walk is life, to learn is how we stay alive,

Through every rise and break, we’re burning—learning still.

Death may be certain, the end of every road,

Till then, with every step, we’re learning—learning still.

~ Dawn

May I always see you smiling !

 

Once you were so small

you fit easily within my hands.

Today you have grown so much

that even my arms cannot hold you the same way.

Back then my heart carried quiet worries,

wondering if I would make mistakes

while raising my son,

learning motherhood step by step.

Muttasi would smile at my anxious thoughts

and gently remind me,

“Children are all the same in this world—

sons and daughters alike.”

You were the youngest in our home,

showered with love from every corner.

Yet you never took advantage of that affection;

simplicity and kindness stayed with you.

Nineteen years have passed,

but a mother’s heart remains the same—

filled with care, pride, and quiet joy.

Stay happy always.

Never bring sorrow to another soul.

Whenever you can, lend a helping hand,

for humanity still lives in such acts.

My only prayer is simple:

may life treat you kindly,

and may I always see you smiling

as you walk your own path in this world.

~ Dawn

With love, today and always —

 

Your smile lights every heart,

Your friendship is a beautiful art.

You bring loved ones closer in every way,

Spreading joy wherever you stay.

May your life be filled with cheer,

Blessings, laughter, year after year.

With love, today and always —

Have a truly wonderful birthday !

~ Dawn

Let Go !!!

 There is a limit to all things—

to goodness, to cruelty, to beauty and decay.

A limit to what we hear,

what we see,

what we allow our tongues and hearts to carry.

We all have thresholds,

quiet lines drawn by the soul.

No one has the right

to bruise us with words,

to dress harm as advice,

or raise their voice as power.

Even sweetness, they say,

can turn bitter in excess.

So do not bow

just because you choose civility.

Strength can be gentle.

Leaving can be brave.

Walk away.

Let go.

~ Dawn