A stalled monsoon trough over central Nepal
caused continuous torrential heavy rainfall
Slopes pushed up moisture from the Bay of Bengal
The catastrophe was looming large to befall.
Sudden breach of a moraine dam
Triggered Glacial Lake outburst floods
A surge of water and debris devastates
downstream, catching communities off guard.
Landslides continued to collapse slopes,
forming temporary dams that later burst
Steep valleys amplified runoff swift and fast
Flood of fury of all time unleashed the worst.
A compound climate disaster of twin sciences
Meteorology and geology to decipher in depth
monsoon extremes, unstable glaciers, terrain hazards
Perished hundreds of lives and left many homeless.
Sparse sensors, lack of predictive models a curse
Warrant real time glacial monitoring at source
With closely spaced weather station networks
And cross border early warning systems
…….Narayan Gadagkar
i've never let the river within me flow so freely,
flow so rapid, so relentless, breaking the dams the otters built.
i love otters, they're resilient; they don't give up when their twigs snap,
this time, the otters were swept away by the current
it's only up to the otter-
if they want to return.
the otters will never be able to forget the sweeping of the ocean,
they must accept that it happened, and and find it's way back to it's waters.
the ocean never wished for the otter to be swept,
the ocean loves the gentle paddle of the otter within itself.
without the otter paddling, the water lies still.
it was never the oceans intention to become so strong,
that the otter had no chance, but to be pulled beneath the current.
if the world were kinder,
if the ocean were as gentle as it longed to be,
the otter would swim until the ocean dried up,
and the otter became bone.
there are other oceans,
there are other otters,
but the otter and ocean mutually agree,
the otter's dam no longer belongs.
I’m a dusty grave,
Rust bones sighing heavily.
The windows--jail bars,
Display taunting glowing stars.
My heart tugs my veins like lead.
Everything is dark,
And silent--Besides my pulse.
Do they deserve me?
No--That’s why it's called free will!
I laugh, still--I cough--Lonely.
I only want them.
I only want ‘I love you.’
The river dams creak.
I can never fall asleep,
They’ve forgotten about me…
On days of heavy rain
tears from sad eyes
fall like drops from
gray cloud skies
Once, words sometimes
flowed like streams trickling
over polished rocks ---
Sometimes they rushed past --
torrents that broke through
crumbling dams holding
hesitant reservoirs of thought .
Sometimes they were
riotous tumultuous floods --
now, they ooze,
almost stop -- rarely, now
even meandering through
dry debris cluttering
the arid channels
of this aged mind.....
A sudden gift upon a dusty road,
I hesitated, thought it might explode,
Or was it just another episode
Of my life’s unexpected puzzle mode?
How many minutes have I borrowed,
How many favor’s have I winnowed,
Dams installed and still the big river flowed?
My life rolled on by some mysterious code,
Until a sudden gift to me was bestowed.
The water is close
Yet we drown in sollace
The dissaray of despare piles like the water that piles and heaps behind the dams
Our bodies lie decrepid and dry
Yet we are close
The water drips
And
It dissapears
Into the body that now is just as it was before water
We can see this wealth
A body that would sustain ours
Synergetic and symbiotic
Yet, the water remains distant
Our eyes feast on the drip as it sprints and hides
We can crawl but we cannot really
We are all to weak to brave the journey of dust and dry despair
Drip
And those of us who do
Realize
The water is not real
And we all die
All mortal
All with our pains and greivences
The suffering and eternality
The water was a lie
blue man had one mission but it was a big gun
Wanted to hydrate the planet, each and every one
Every plant, every person, every animal who existed.
We who heard the plan helped him. No one dare resisted.
We put water on everything and drank it as well
H2O from farm ponds, lakes, dams, reservoirs and every well
Blue man got famous and paid experts to hydrate the rest
I was exhausted from watering, so glad, I must confess
“Day dreams lay dead in dreams, but when life is breathed into them, they soar beyond the boundaries of success.”
— Poet
My dream is to be great in life,
That all I touch shall turn to gold,
And melt like butter on hot knife.
Thus my reward shall be tenfold,
Full of thriving, less of strife,
Grow finer, like a wine brewed old~
That buds find its rhythm in fife,
A belief I hold in heart bold.
So surprising it becomes,
When I dreamt this dream in dreams,
And dance to its beats on drums,
Then its true essence truly gleams,
And its true purpose it sums.
Its starkness guided by beams,
As if life's dreams are like ripe plums,
That come as easy as they seem,
Such that to no loss it succumbs.
True dreams are fulfilled in sleeps,
And not drowned in dwams' dams,
Where doubt constantly creeps,
To make dreams appear as shams,
Yet my life-dream still peeps
Through this life's tangled jams,
To a place no one weeps,
And free from dreams' logjams.
Mars, Musk, And Bond Girls
Mars is again in the news, and Musk has been silent
about going to Mars, perhaps he has found
Another planet more suitable to his temperament
We read that four women are going to Mars, mainly
because they have been astronauts and know
a thing or two about the limitless space if one gets
to far out can disappear into a time that does not
exist and are doomed to fly while drinking tea from
a straw, worrying about whether sugar is fattening.
It might be possible to unclog the dust in hidden
river beds on Mars, it might be that the dust is dry water
that, if we have a magic formula, will spring to life
sing like a waterfall in April, create sweet dams
and a landscape unspoiled by the ugly windmills
Should Elon Musk take a renewed interest in
Mars, he has the will to go there, but will he when
As a leader, introduce democracy among the crew
or demand Mars as an authoritarian regime
Brackish lichen forms a raft upon the pond,
a low haze floats like a moored airship.
Small frogs chirrup sotto-voce
as if they were
dreaming sparrows.
Water birds dabble in their sleep.
Soon the sun
will dash across a drop of dew
bursting dams of light.
A fisherman in his truck
drinks his coffee,
rubs his eyes and smacks his lips.
He grabs rod and tackle,
hopes fat fish are lazily
rising.
Feathers shake off waterlogged shadows,
wings slap the groggy face of the pond,
ripples splash up
to rinse the air.
Coots and Plover call
until the water
awakes.
When the rains come down
And the dark clouds fill the sky
The old men go walkabout
When the rains come down
And the earth no longer dry
The old women praise the Lord
When the rains come down
And dams are overflowing
The young men learn the secrets
When the rains come down
And fertile fields start growing
The young women long for love
Cosmic dust carpets the night sky
Like glittering snow blanketing billowing pine trees,
Captivating our deepest thoughts.
Inner monologues break their dams,
Flooding our consciousness with fleeting questions—
Of what was and what still might be.
Existential queries fly by like shooting stars:
Why here? Why this planet, this plane of existence?
Only to disappear in a flash, leaving no trace.
For we are so small within the emptiness of galaxies,
Yet we hold onto hope that there is more beyond what can be seen.
For even the death of a star breeds life—
From scattered ruins comes the calcium that builds our bones.
Within the silence of night, we come ever closer to tranquility.
Let the glow of moonbeams wash over you.
As each star has a pattern of its own, so do you.
Wipe your tears, sweet child,
Whilst the balmy breeze wraps around you.
Let your past evaporate like a summer rain
I flew the international route
Had an epiphany, no doubt
Surrounded, the mix of folks
Of ages, languages, life walks
What if we suddenly can share
One intellection, maybe pair?
A story from a distant nook
Earth’s wisdom, ready for a book
Of money, family and love
Tradition, habit thereof,
How we can learn, and why we don’t?
Out of indifference, we wouldn’t
This plane, a sample of mankind
Hey, guys and girls, come read my mind
I long to share, trick or two
You get to wear my old shoe
But no, they slept, restrained and fed
No brainstorms or plans instead
No passing secrets, gained advice
Within our reach, free and precise
No business chat, no meeting place
Or knowledge gained in plane’s space
Polite and friendly, shut as clams
No handshakes offered, only dams
We ate, we read, had movies watched
This opportunity was botched
And as we land - “goodbye, primates”
We split and run, to transfer gates
March 22, 2025
MAY OUR WATER FOREVER BREAK AND FLOW
As like the water, we were created;
In the breaking of the water we came—
And it is said that we did not come here
To be sitting or standing around for nothing:-
Indeed, we are here like the waters of rivers;
Like waters of oceans and seas—flowing to be;
And like the waters, we must ever be about flowing—
Flowing to ever be free from oppressive inequities:-
Strong flowing waters can burst damming dams,
And frozen ice melts in warm flowing liberating water;
And although slow deep streaming water evaporates,
Does it not eventually fall back down on oppressive ground?
Let us forever run and flow in physical strength;
Let us forever run and flow in mental awareness;
Let us forever run and flow in spiritual uplifting;
Let us forever run and flow in undying faith:-
God has baptized us in the water of His divine love,
Graciously dipping our heads in His divine wisdom,
Guiding us towards His shores of divine liberation,
That we may forever flow in His gracious deliverance:-
Confined within the steep banks of a narrow mind
is a cryptic river where men stumble in and go blind
They construct reinforced dams that hold them back
from accepting the candid truth, white is not black
Like the slow-moving current of a trickling stream
their thoughts are clogged and clot like curdled cream
What chance do the recalcitrant ones have to accept
reality if they allow no vision of being circumspect
of taking fault and blame for having a closed mind?
These are the ignorant, the foolish ones aptly defined
as those destined to stagnate until they decompose
It's the subsequent end to the stubborn who oppose
a new premise or concept with which they don't agree
They rot inside prisons of conceit, a human tragedy
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