Wrote this poem on the subject “Holidays” for a Competition hosted by Asian Literary Society and won the First Prize.

Not the days spent lazing, overlooking the Seine,
or the vineyards of Chianti, having food and wine,
Not the tip of Jungfrau, where heaven and earth align,
or the nights in the Wadi, gazing at stars shine,
Not the cruise at Ha Long where we dance and dine,
or the streets of Florence, shall make me pine,
Cobble-stone paths, blue-green seas, for breaks are fine
Maple leaves fallen, snow- flakes drizzling… I opine;
cannot steal me, from that which is truly mine.

Swaying coconut palms, gurgling streams,
Rain-drops on leaves, glistening; ripples on puddles gleams,
Carpet of green – light, dark, shades in between,
Smell of the earth after the rains… all washed clean,
Men in white “mundus” tied up to the waist,
Sounds of the mother-tongue –sweet; spoken in…