I am retired Information Professional. I live in Mysore. My last position was as Senior Manager in an International Agricultural Research Centre called ICRISAT near Hyderabad. I have been consultant to Unesco, FAO, IDRC, Canada and to a few centres in India. I published a book of short stories and poems, titled, Eavesdropping. This was published by Partridge, a Penguin company. I am married; we have a son who lives in the US.
BROKEN GLASS Standing here in front of me Are many pieces before me Looking down all I see Are different colored pieces Of what was me Broken, shattered and scattered Use to resemble me The glass I see before me
Not yet, the courage will wait for the curtain to fall, will then disappear in awakening; the crucial thing was the love of absence the scythe of eclipsed moon. Suspense hangs from the tall image in slow turn of thighs
the first is touch losing touch sense of touch losing softness losing abrasions… in dark amputation… this is how it was, my mother did not die, just detached, gradually less tenuously linked to life, until there was no link… now
Though I clearly see Paralleling traits, Corresponding facets Astonishingly quaint This complex, albeit moving, Prominent connection Holds a minute blemish Worthy of reflection. Contrast, yes there’s one, A distinction can be drawn, For you’re rarely right, While I’m never wrong!