Vaani is asleep, She is in her world, And I must not make noise, I should draw her in soft tones, for even a noisy emotion is a noise, when a bud is asleep… Sunlight kisses her cheek in silence, A gift she is to all nature, Sometimes a sparrow peeks into her room to have a look at her soft, round face, Leaves are teasing the sunlight by coming in way between it and her face, for friends often celebrate each others' good fortune…

for my little one month old daughter — That powdery fragrance when I kiss you when you are in my arms — I imagine its essence when I see your face on the video call — my mind, then, is playing a game with my sense of smell — its perception moves from the realm of the usual to the realm of the real — to the realm of dreams — to the meditation of children — to the place where I once was — that has opened up again like a treasure chest opens up in a story, when two magical puzzles meet — Similarly, my mind has met its other puzzle piece in you, that had been lost since I was as little as you — my little bundle of joy, my little Vaani…

a poem — That pleading old woman at the red light crossing – a few coins being all her life in that moment Look at her pleading – In a museum of highly respected art, people would have seen the same scene and wondered about her beauty Oh, how her moist eyes plead, How dense the network of creases on her face – Rivers on the map of an anonymous country! How at night, the white light from a car is seen through her flowing cream-colored Saree, as if moonlight is making a space of windy dance in the clouds…

a poem — I say to the rich - I don’t need your money, I need your time. I say to my well-wishers - I don’t need your care, I need your understanding. I say to him, who feels hostile towards me - I don’t need your silent contempt, I need that you look inside…

a prayer of love for this universe… — May I love this Universe… May I open my heart to its winds… May I find its nectar-filled meaning while I live… May I tend to its ways as a little plant does to a soft wind… May I grow flowers and fruits for the oasis of the seekers… May I light up in a candle flame which shows the path and is love and warmth… May I close my eyes and look at all the peace that is gifted to all by no one knows who, that comes from an unknown place, and is thus, a sweet mystery…

Stories — Dreams, Imaginations, Colors, Loves, Lives, Magic, Starlight, Dancing, Depths, Inner Lights, Happiness, Sorrows, Swans, Lakes, Lamps, Clouds, Shiny little mirrors with little lights falling from the clouds on the earth, intricate patterned deep-colored carpets, People and Heroes, Rough Villains, Storytelling Parrots, Lover Monkeys, Wrinkled hands, Young promising hands…

1 Lotus Pond - Heat waves everywhere - A morning frog, Really can’t wait - to get Kerplunked! 2 A splash it will make! And all the heat - It will beat! 3 The Sun - Will go home beaten - to return, but after being taught - A lesson!

My eyeglasses remind me daily of the gift of sight, It is taken from me and given to me many times in the day.. The gift of details, to be able to look at a red dahlia, and get immersed in its show, a show, the ticket to which, is this life… a single show is enough - Enough joy, enough love, for the life to have a purpose, for us to be able to thank this life, this lovely life… © Manan sheel

That flower we saw today in the garden - A gentle, grand flower, its cream-white petals like swirling skirts on the outer periphery, and a pink-red tongue it had rising in the middle, covered all over in abundance of pollen… Some flowers prefer to be more beautiful, but a little arrogant, like the rose, which can cause a clever lovesick insect make it sick with love, but this flower we saw today, is all open, an outward beauty,