Project 2: Art of Outdoor Poetry

Read about a fantastic poetry group in Pune, India

You’ll sure love it. ❤



Midnight Day- Motivated by dear poet

​Few lines were shared with a beautiful poet friend +Betania​. 
Raindrops on secrets of paradise,

Whence pieces of beauty, not in words,

Could find a night, lost among sleepless dreams,

The night lived by million stars,

And lived by thy speechless soul.

The nightly moon came down, to thy lips,

To kiss, imperfection defined in thy smile.

For your legacy brought back,

To stories waiting thousand years.

In darkness of thy shadow,

Older got the night, and,

Deeper was the Moon lost in thee,

For once, a life was lived in silence,

For once, it was a day in midnight.
– Teddy ©

Collaboration with Artist #1

First collaboration with an artist, also a good friend. With- Subhankar Bala aka Aaron, the painter.

Credits: Subhankar Bala. 21 Aug 2016


Slow decibel, the silent noises,

I am terrified and it is dark.

Indifference bellows the path,

In steps that chastised our thoughts.

Here I am now, weeping peacefully,

Among the ruins of our existence.

I constantly search for the fallen pieces,

But they are gone with our last walk.

This crimson red trail, covered in your whispers,

Where I walk with the sun,

A fantasy to catch the night where you hide.

I am terrified and this heart is starving,

For I know it only wants you,

To serenade you our last walk.

  • Teddy ©

Restful Chronicle

Bow infront of the truth that                                                                                                           winches with the leaves,

The face that lives on the                                                                                                                       night street which grieves.

Our roads cross everyday over                                                                                                                 the ashen of the streetlight,

Only a benevolent smile is how                                                                                                                 we greet on the east-side.

No sober interaction and what it seems                                                                                               the secrets cross the realm every time,

The thoughts that fought once, hugs                                                                                                      now in the silence of our chime.

I wonder why not we talk and                                                                                                                    be the soul of a unison rhythm!

I wonder can I ever sing and                                                                                                                 dance below the Rosewood with’em.

Will I ever cross the dilemma and                                                                                                          see the world through her eyes?

Every night infront of sleeping Daisies, I wonder                                                                                   will I ever be part of her journey to baptize.

Someday the flowers will die and the trees                                                                                       may sleep forever withered by our hopeless canonical,

And someday I will walk past the light and                                                                                     bestow her with my Restful Chronicle.