Wednesday, November 19, 2008

Harbour View

Rise, brothers, rise, the wakening skies pray
to the morning light,
The wind lies asleep in the arms of the dawn
like a child that has cried all night.
Come, let us gather our nets from the shore,
and set our catamarans free,
To capture the leaping wealth of the tide, for
we are the sons of the sea.

No longer delay, let us hasten away in the
track of the sea-gull's call,
The sea is our mother, the cloud is our brother,
the waves are our comrades all.
What though we toss at the fall of the sun
where the hand of the sea-god drives?
He who holds the storm by the hair, will hide
in his breast our lives.

Sweet is the shade of the cocoanut glade, and
the scent of the mango grove,
And sweet are the sands at the full o' the
moon with the sound of the voices we love.
But sweeter, O brothers, the kiss of the spray
and the dance of the wild foam's glee:
Row, brothers, row to the blue of the verge,
where the low sky mates with the sea.

- Coromandel Fishers by Sarojini Naidu

Monday, November 10, 2008

Step-Out, Step-In

It has been a rather dull monsoon for me this year. Just a few heavy rains now and then. The weatherman's prediction of good rainfall has completely gone wrong and failed to drench me as I have dreamt.

Anyway its time to say 'goodbye' to the monsoon and is also the time to say 'hello' to winter. The new season as I could feel is slowly stepping in. Its time to catchup with warm rugs, long sleeps, and hot coffees.

Saturday, November 01, 2008


I went down to the river,
I set down on the bank.
I tried to think but couldn't,
So I jumped in and sank.

I came up once and hollered!
I came up twice and cried!
If that water hadn't a-been so cold
I might've sunk and died.

- Langston Hughes, Life Is Fine

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Ansel Adams


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