my breath and i


to be in that space
long disregarded by time
untouched by memory
spiralling in unimagination
even god should not dare
my breath and i
or even not i


I have completed over a year of my daily breathing/meditation practise. It has surprised me…pleasantly :) never imagined I could be disciplined enough. I gifted my meditation chair a new cover. Have a look

IMG_20171113_193753 (1)

Image credit

Ancient Connections

(for the teachers who found me
some came, taught, left
others still grace my life)

~Ancient Connections~

with a voice that melts lyrics like warm honey
reminds of the gentle fragrance of incense
what higher form of devotion
than the offering of eternal music
that echoes in every heart

unseen are ancient connections
unbroken though lifetimes have passed
may our paths be entwined forever
the way a melody is bound to rhythm
and the soul exists within vibration

…and you shall be found
that is the bond of your master


I was inspired to write this poem after constantly listening to this beautiful dedication Guru Meri Pooja by Nitin Dawar.


Nitinji is not only a talented and soulful singer/musician, but he is also an inspiring Art of Living teacher. I had the good fortune to volunteer for the Happiness program conducted in Kawangware, Nairobi last month. The course was made available at a special low rate to make it accessible to as many people as possible. Working with him as he facilitated this huge project, yet made it seem so effortless was fascinating. Nitinji engaged with people from all walks of life so naturally.

The Happiness course was a 2 day event. The difference I saw in the participants by the second day was phenomenal. Lot more stillness and silence … and plenty of smiles! Participants had such positive experiences.

Here are some photos of the Happiness program. Nitinji, Asante sana! And we hope to have many such programs to create a Stress-free Violence-free society. 🙏

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Just One Word

For the past few days I had been struggling to find the words to express what we are going through as a nation. In less than 3 months we have had elections, nullified them, another election, boycott of elections, police brutality, protests, demonstrations, a nation divided, economic slow down and uncertainties. It was difficult to write and wished I could find just one word…and then I did. In fact I found several one words and made poems using letters derived from just one word. I was amazed at how much I could convey even with the restricted structure.


Inaction (is)
In Action
Act (my)




do speak




Democracy: the Demo version has expired
install now the Mockery


These tweets tell a story…



Featured Image Credit: @BrianInganga

where are you?

if i was born at a different time
lived in a different place
if i could experience a different dimension
found at the edge of space…
would i fall over?
or would i find myself back to here

and would now hold any meaning
if tomorrow was irrelevant
if yesterday never remained

i still wished i existed then
but i am here now
… where are you?


“There is no past or future
But only the present
Or not even that
Because without the past and future
It is meaningless to call it the present”
~ Osho

The Undisputed Queen

The full moon earlier this month was just amazing. At my meditation time, it was positioned in the small space between our two rooftops…so perfect! Here are my thoughts and some photos of that beautiful night.

full moon 2

Such a gorgeous Full Moon tonight

full moon1

Although I see the clouds have stolen her thunder

full moon 3

Hmmm… The clouds have been dismissed!
The moon’s envy knows no bounds

full moon 4

Curtains are rapidly drawn
Like veils over alluring houris
Even the stars did not dare
Now the undisputed queen of night sky
Completely alone
Alone….but complete


More Moon photography and poetry in these posts:
something old, something new 
Moon Light



Here is a thoughtful interaction between myself and @DeDarkPassenger on Twitter. It is all about seeking, and I for one learnt a lot from it.

He who seeks, finds…

He who seeks
Shall be found

Found by whom?


Either it is too deep or it is quite complicated.

(I think the answers lie within ourselves)
and we searched
and we prayed
… but it was ourselves we found


Glad you understood what I was trying to say 😊

You are good at explaining complex philosophies.

I have good teachers 🙏

That’s it.


Yep, that’s it. Thanks so much @DeDarkPassenger for this interaction and for allowing me to share it here.


…and you shall be found


Image Credit

The Padre’s Shroud

This is a follow up to my mythical figure assignment The Mystic of Mackinnon Road and here I had to be an object in the myth.

The Padre’s Shroud

beside my bold silk of silver finery
they kneel, murmur, plead, chant

bargaining with elaborate promises
hope drenched whispers, ituri
filters through to your kaburi

do you hear their prayer, i wonder
at the blush of dawn, life so still
i feel, a stirring beneath me

awaken my pir, my padre
upon tracks
devoured by rust
seasoned with dust
the early train nears. decelerates.


ituri – perfume
kaburi – grave
pir – holy man

Mackinnon road


Previous poetry workshop assignments are:
Do You Remember?
A Land, Broken
The Importance of Being an Object
Red Stilettos, and a Pair of Shoes

the lost art

i felt it only appropriate to recite this poem. (hope you enjoy my experiment)

the lost art ~ recited by sonya kassam

do not look for stories
that live forever
between the pages of books
tales that hide in the heart
are conveyed orally
with a rising tone
or hushed words
poetic rhythm, commanding attention
meandering through a chain of generations
eager listeners round a bonfire
or huddled in a cramped room,
simultaneous sighs as
eyes captivate, words fascinate
enhanced by gestures
thoughts cross-pollinate
through the revival of a fading beauty
the lost art
of story-telling


we each have a story within us
go tell your story