I wake up each morning to look at the sky

Is it blue, white, and billowy?



They always surprise me



                                                 Image by Heemal Handoo Bhat


Today the cerulean canvas 

is filled with stratus clouds

Leaving a wispy trail 

across the sky

Bringing bliss in the quiet dawn.


Delhi never gets to see

A lustrous sky

We see gloomy clouds hovering over the city

Or peripatetic clouds in the monsoon

But these seem to be idling

Ephemeral and detached 

unlike my thoughts


I silently witness the culprit wind

Shooing them away swiftly 

Rays of hope and courage

Are nestled in cloudy layers

Leaving behind a trail of happiness. 



Welcome to My New Blog

Go where you feel most alive.

I have always been passionate about teaching and have devoted more than three decades of my life to it. I have loved meeting people and students and teaching and learning from them. However since the last few years I got promoted but this pulled me away from core academics and threw me right into a pile of files! While this administrative role has helped me grow as a person, there are strong urges to get back to what I was best at doing… teaching, learning, sharing great moments with children, being myself, trying out innovative things in class and enjoying learning from others success and failures.

This blog is an attempt to share my experiences and learning from life. Join me in my endeavour to navigate through life and its teachings .

Give Me A Balcony

Give me a balcony

Where I can sit and watch people.

A place far from the madding hustle

With a view of the bustle

A place where I can appreciate the untouched dew

And feel the first waft of morning breeze.

Give me a cozy balcony

With a chair and kadak chai.

  To bury myself into the newspaper

Between the printed lines

and people on the street below,

I see a morning full of liveliness and joy.

Give me a quiet balcony

So I can look across the street

At the tall lady walking hurriedly

To clean the houses that

Give her children and family a reason to live

Submitting  to a surrendered rhythm in her walk.

Give me a balcony

Veiled by the tall palm leaves.

Which allows me to be a voyeur

I can see the boy gazing shyly

At the girl lost in the loud prattle of friends

Oh, how times change!

Give me an envious balcony

To have a covert tête-à-tête

With my friends from the countryside

As I speak to the twittering birds

Who hadn’t visited me in days

And the squirrel who picks nuts from my parapet.

I want a balcony

All to myself

To gaze into nothingness

And rewind the memorable moments

To see my own story

In every story on the street below.  



You Are The Envied One

When I get mischievous like you

I am scolded

When I am naughty like you

I am chided

When I try to steal butter

I am reminded to stay off calories

When I run out to play like you

I am called reckless.

Lord, you are the envied one!

When my cricket ball breaks a window pane

The neighbours whine

 When you dance on the head of the serpent

You are adventurous

When I tie a tin to a dog’s tail

I am called insensitive

When you break the Gopis pots

You are adored

When I break a potted plant

I am rebuked.

Lord, you are the envied one!

You don’t have to attend school

No home works to complete

 When you play on the flute you are cute

I am given the flute only on your bday

When they deck me like you

When you dance it’s Ras Leela

When I break into a dance it’s mindless!

Lord, you are the envied one!

You are always having fun being out with friends

What do you do to not get chastised?

How do you manage to be so loved?

Even after you do all the things I do?

I want to be like you

By the way,

My name is also Murali Krishna

                                                   But the world treats me differently!

Painting credits: Heemal

Friends of Yore

I miss them all

Those who would eat my lunch but never shared theirs

Even those who shared a candy and those who went out to eat it alone!

How can I forget those who secretly shared their Mills & Boons with me

And those who would hide their notes from me!

I miss them all

Those who remained silent when they should have supported me

And those who gave advice but never followed it themselves

I can’t forget my fierce friends who didn’t let me face it alone

And the supportive ones who remained my best critics.

Fierce Friends

I miss them all

Friends who remained only during the good times and then vanished

And those temporary friends who are and were

How can I forget the ‘oh you too?’ ones

Who doubled my joy?

Oh I miss them so much

The fickle minded ones who changed in a second and

The friends who accepted my faults

And wiped my tears 

And the ones who didn’t take me for granted.

The Mysore Maharanis

Oh I miss them so much

Even though they were toxic

You never forgot the lessons that hurt taught you

‘Never to leave anyone high and dry

When in troubled waters.’

Where are they?

My Tom and Jerry friends

We fought but couldn’t do without each other

“Oh did I offend you with my opinion” friends

Who changed me for the better.

The crazy and talented friends at Inter University Youth Festival

Where are they ?

My friends who were crazy, silly and weird

Went all out to make me laugh more and cry less

Who may be absent but will go all out to help

Even though they have their own lives.

Where are those gems?

Who never sugar-coated anything

They saw me and my worth

The ones who were not fake or flaky

They may not keep in touch frequently

But you know they are always there.

Met her after three decades!

The shy sisters

 Hiding behind caring lushness

Bashful, I come out


As the leaf lifts the veil.

We shared the hues of love

Spirited and blossomed

While my shy sister

Still waits in secret patience.

The shy sister- wanting to be out….but….

With a timid big smile

We step out

As if on a date

To meet the radiant Sun.

Two sisters out in the sun

Picture credits: Heemal


Away from my land

I am restive,

Distanced and lonely.

The pangs of separation

Are insufferable.

The land of Chinar , Pines and Poplar trees

When will I get to see you?

My eyes are fatigued and heavy.

My zest for life

Has frozen,

The glory of my tumultuous land

Now lies dead and buried.

I stroll behind the mountain

On the sun-struck road

Singing songs of memorable days

And old delightful tales.

The sound of gushing water, aroma of pine trees en-thralls

No one knows this desolation

As we suffer silently.

There’s a deep estrangement

From the land of our birth.

As I pray

My heart sighs in grief

Of the valley’s lost joys.

Sick of the city

It wants to go back

To my roots.

Picture Credits: Heemal



Its ok to cry they said,

But I am unable to.

You, the fire of my life

Taught me chutzpah

And to find happiness in liberation.

You taught that even when you’re in pain

Don’t let things drive you insane.

Your carefree laughter

Your welcoming arms and smile

Make me wistful.

 Maya, Maya…

Your name brings along a silence.

They envied your impudence

But you will remain in their thoughts

Even if only as a fleeting memory.

All you asked for was love,

Friendship, self-respect.

It seems like yesterday

We were playing hide and seek

Preferring to hide than be sought

Happy in our privacy

Enjoying our paysaa and idlis

Making garlands of mallige

over naughty giggles.

Oh Maya!

Who would have thought

Loneliness would consume you.

We were there for each other

You would call me and it made me feel special

I regret not reaching out to you often.

I shall always remember you

As a gorgeous girl

with a mix of brashness 

And conformism

Who lived on her own terms

And brought happiness to others

Without expecting anything in return

Who loved only once

And lost it to one. 

An ode to my childhood friend Maya. Maya lost her life to loneliness and the discriminating traditions and beliefs of a dogmatic society.

Dusky and Divine

Why stare at me?

I know you despise my cocoa skin

I know my colour is descriptive

I know you find me ugly.

Who are you to define beauty?

I consider this my uniqueness

I am interpretative

But not shallow.

Who are you to dictate my thoughts?

Don’t misjudge my kindness for weakness

Don’t misjudge my shyness for timidness

Judge me when you are perfect.

Who are you to talk of my aesthetics?

My head is draped with immense compassion

Which accentuates my aura

Binding me to the world.

Who are you to silence me?

With your dark chatter

While you see only my dusky skin

I read your dark mind.

My silence is my resilience

I deserve to be loved

I may look dark to you

But my life is in color.

Painting credits: Heemal

The Gracious Tree

Standing tall and stately

Stretching to the sky

With blowing green locks

Whispering boughs

It’s bosoms cradled the nests

While the birds sang

In sheer happiness.

As I passed by the gracious tree

Which bowed in courtesy

Its boughs waved in reply

I rest in its shade

Absorbing its perpetual greenness.

Two decades have passed.

I passed by the gracious tree again

Now, I am saddened to see it

Old, large and bent

Without a cloak

Standing with its flaky trunk

Holding on to its majestic glory of yesteryear.

Having seen storms go by

It shrugged off  its foliage

And stood shy in its own nakedness

Scorned by birds unable to nest in its boughs.

Broken and brooding

The gracious tree stands

Without complaint or sigh

Ready to caress the earth.

Picture Credits: Heemal

The Cloaked Sky

Tranquil dark sky

Smeared with dreary clouds         

Scare me to scramble for light.

I stand captivated

By the smell of the impending storm

Daunted by the deep mercy of the sky.

There is beauty in the darkest clouds

They come and go in my life

At times they carry rain

And sometimes they usher a storm.

Even on days  

When my anger is spent 

And emotions stirred

I love them as they paint my sundown sky.  

Stopping By on a Misty Morning

My heart skips a beat

As I stop by a street.

I witness you blushing

And stand in admiration

Of a truly lovely sight!

I see you 

On the roadside where you grew

Standing in resilience

Blinded by your fiery brilliance.

I take a deep breath 

Taking in life’s beautiful moment

The gentle breeze exalts

Your boughs that do a waltz.

Are you cherry blossoms’ cousin?

Your striking color is buzzing

I love the pink carpet you lay 

For an impressive seasonal display.


If autumn is here

Can winter be far behind?

Inspired by Robert Frost’s works

Picture credits: Heemal 

Create your website with WordPress.com
Get started