Lost in the stars

Lying on our backs,  in summer blankets,  gazing at the dome of the sky,  the stars and constellations  sprayed like fine glitteri...

Wednesday, December 25, 2013

Mettlesome

I turn around.
Wrinkled face,
Back bent,
Short baby steps
And knitted scarf on her head.
Gran!
Instinctively,
As if she hears me.
She looks up.
I am disappointed,
Hold back my tears,
And
Busy myself on mobile.
Before stealing a look at her again.
Somebody spares a seat for her.
She hesitates,
Like
Her eyes seeking permission
From all of us standing,
Like
Apologizing,
For being favored.
I steal a look again,
Seated,
Singing to herself perhaps,
Looking out of window,
Like a young tiddler,
Awed by the
Whole metro-paraphernalia.
And then
The bus rings with
His insistent cries
Growing louder by the minute.
The crowd encouraged
His harried father
To take the seat.
I looked back
At the commotion,
Only to see that Gran
Had spared her seat
For the father-son duo
And joined the
Standing milieu.
Proudly.
She stood
Close enough
That
I could breathe
Her grimed shawl.
She turned to me,
Her voice
Just an audible whisper
“The child was crying”.
Currents well up inside me.
A schoolgirl
Offers her seat.
Gran is seated now,
Again singing to herself,
Awed by
Sights beyond the window.
Awed myself,
I look-on
Until it’s time,
For me to de-board.

Wednesday, November 27, 2013

Innocence uprooted

Gorgeous green patch,
Sometimes barren brown,
Or even the rooftops,
All alive with
Glimpse of childhood
Scuttling away,
On tiny feet.
Innocent banter,
Soccer and rumpus,
A catch here,
A goal there,
One life down,
Two more to spare,
Soaring kites,
Scaling skies,
Evening gathered,
And so did life
In these little niches
Now remembered
With fervor
And
Even a tinge of gratitude.
The patches stand silent today,
Forgotten, blanked out.
Favored
Only by flocks
Of thoroughbreds of air.
Nonage now prefers
Sophisticated gadgetry
To bruised knees.
Who ever thought
That
Technology
Would come to
Pluck out
The very childhood.

Linking with Trifecta : Week 105
Linking with Picture it & Write 
Linking with Five Minute Friday : Fly

Friday, November 22, 2013

Stay analysis

Stay!
The thought struggled.
And stayed;
Never expressed.
Stay!
Prompted in psychology experiment.
The most charming word
In a friend’s vocabulary.
Stay!
Easier said than done.
Out of sight is out of mind.

Thursday, November 21, 2013

Azure skies can wait

Once in a purple moon,
The God retires.
Takes a break,
And goes on vacation.
The prayers go unanswered.
Dreams fade.
Miracles become bedtime stories.
And then,
When you walk on wet sands
You don’t look up to the azure skies.
The extraordinary does not happen.
Or perhaps it does;
Given that He has His share of oddities.
Its just that
We fail to comprehend
What he is up-to.
Good thing is that
His establishment
Doesn’t sanction His LFC all that often.
Oh but when it does,
Well!
Happy Holidays, God!
Azure skies shall have to wait
For
Your return.

Linking with Picture it and write

Wednesday, November 20, 2013

Companion Thought

Living evermore
Until
Its
Icy hands
Begin to probe,
Find flaws
And break us.
Reverent,
Bowed,
Awed,
By this hide and seek
Of
Comrades.
Death
Strikes
Companion
Thought
On life.
And
Vice versa.

Linking with Trifecta : Week 104

Friday, November 8, 2013

Hungry Soul

Tattered clothes;
Thin wrinkled skin,
Wrapped around bones;
Shaking hands;
Torn slippers;
I reach your door.
I am shunned;
Ostracized;
And hungry.
I knock your door.
For care and courtesy.

I am God.

Wednesday, October 30, 2013

Rush Hour

Bread toast for breakfast.
My regular menu.
The watch ticks 9.
Plan to leave the meal unfinished.
The hurried gulping
Not helped by horlicks-laden milk shake.
9:15.
A panicking look at watch.
I should be out on road.
Right now.
An urge to leave utensils unwashed.
The cockroaches scurrying across,
The remnants of someone’s dinner,
Strongly deter.
The dress all stained with water,
The dish washing done,
I run a comb through hair,
Not stopping to look
At the volume of tangled mess in comb,
Done, all done.
As I change my shoes.
Wait, wait, wait!
The bed-spread creased
And wrinkled.
Can’t leave it like that.
So smoothed and stretched,
Oh! I spread it again.
Not daring to look
At the watch,
I pick up my bag
And am out of the door,
Out on the road.
Finally.
And by estimate
I am a good fifteen minute late.
Unusually
I hail a rickshaw.
20 bucks!
For a small stretch
That I would have walked
Had I not been running late
And had I not been gripped
With this sudden atrophy
After an hour of running around.
Boo.
Say I.
And begin to walk,
Strenghtlessly;
And surprisingly,
The rickshaw turns around
And looks at me encouragingly
Agrees to my price
And drops me in time.
And the moment I pay him,
My regular bus
Arrives
Like it was waiting for me.
It is all vacant.
I am the first person in.
15 bucks for my destination.
I have either 20 or 10.
Boo!
Say I again.
He’ll settle for 20 and
There goes my 5 bucks.
This happens quite often.
It will happen again.
Thinks the now drained me.
Only not today.
For he hands me a crisp 10.
You paid me extra last time.
Says he.
God bless you!
Says I.
And finally I dare
To look at the watch.
Its ok.
I am right on time.
I smile.
People smile back at me.
Unknown,
Unrecognized faces.
Today’s gonna be sunny.
Splendid and superb.

Linking with Trifecta : Week 101

Saturday, October 26, 2013

A place for demons

Why do you
Stay away from
The empty plots
Littered with garbage?
Demons
Don’t live there.
Except for folklores
And
Scary stories.
They live closer than that.
Much closer:
In
Our

Hollow hearts.

Beast-time

Two little hands
Out of nowhere
Going round
My neck
Slimy.
Gooey.
Soppy.
Wake up affrighted.
The clock ticks 3.
A.M.
Scared to
Close the eyes.
Lest the beast
Cuts across

My captain-bed.

Tuesday, October 15, 2013

Some life

Sleeping off her mornings,
For this bachelor girl
Doesn’t have to
Send people
To schools or offices.
And when she faces the sun,
Hurries with hair and care.
A slice of bread
Perhaps two
And rarely three
Downed with milk,
Not often though.
And then off to office.
Steps outrunning others,
To make it on time.
Motivation?
Her ever-growing list
Of stuff for guys back home.
Steps outrunning shadows,
Mind planning
Some mix-n-match cooking
Towards evening.
Then some aimless browsing,
Poem or two.
The day’s all-done.
Trying to sleep
With an
Aching thought.
‘tis not my home-roof.
Unfaltering routine.

Sunday, October 13, 2013

A passing thought

Someday I’ll fade.
Dust in dust.
Air in air.
Elements in elements.
And
Name in names.
Till then I’m busy scribbling,
On these walls.
To be read later.
Both,
With love and contempt.

Sunday, September 15, 2013

O for twilight


Blinding, baking, burning,
Merciless gold ball,
Strong as ever,
It holds the fort,
Guarding dusty dry days.
O for twilight, wait these eyes,
When the silver sliver smiles
And down rains the poetry

Wednesday, September 11, 2013

On her way

Rear aisle seat,
Not her preference.
A kiddo with his mother
Seated to her left,
The welcome-safety speech
Lost to their fuss.
While the child was deciding
If eagles would fly higher than plane,
She fell asleep.
She woke up;
To tilting wings,
To dropping height,
And panicking faces.
Faith plummeted.
Prayers rose.
Her father waited at arrival.
Muffled voices over hysteria
Pleaded calm;
Went unheard.
Hands struggled
To release the mask.
She watched
Dream-like;
Too numb.
The reality didn’t register.
For a-minute-and-a-half.
And then it was calm.
Relief flooded her eyes
As she made her way

To the arrival.

Saturday, September 7, 2013

For love

Resplendent gems of loft,
Thee make my spirit glow.
Thee crown my being with bliss,
And quench my thirsty soul.
Thy shadow all I seek,
For love,
You tether joys to my heart.

Wednesday, September 4, 2013

Size Perfect

She climbed the stairs
Two at a time,
The shortest road to
Possibly a shortest queue,
Attempting to avoid the eyes
That would look
At little beyond
Her hourglass figure
And chiseled face.
Eyes still turned.
Deriding
Her attempt
Of visiting
The sanctuary,
Desecrating it
Frivolously.
“Please go through the tests first”
She joined the queue.
Moving with finesse,
Traversing thin crowd
With effortless grace,
Eyes burning her back
And her cheeks.
“Your weight, pale skin,
Please don’t participate”
Her hemo-count ok.
Her weight not-so-ok.
She walked out,
A laughingstock.
She couldn’t be the donor.
Just a size perfect.

Saturday, August 31, 2013

Haiku - Lonesome


Damp winds ruffle my soul.
A rainy august evening snatched her away,
Forever. Cold clammy fathoms stare.

Monday, August 26, 2013

The prey

“Let me bag a turkey
And then,
I promise we’ll leave”.
The minutes ticked away,
The crowds thinned.
The turkey eluded.
Despite incessant attempts.
At last, he gave up.
Had to give up.
They were about to shut for the night.
Or whatever slices remained of it.
Their footsteps echoed in the parking.
She hustled close to him,
Clinging on to his arm like a lifeline.
Scared of some unseen, unknown waif,
Lurking in the lonely, isolated car park.
Scared of two green eyes,
Blinking in some crevice,
Watching their steps,
Waiting to hunt.
The newspapers were screaming precautions.
To avoid wee hours of morning
Waning hours of night,
Lonely lanes, abandoned areas
So on, so forth.
“ Take it easy honey”.
He comforted her.
Maybe he was still contemplating
That elusive turkey.
She hoped she had
Her pepper spray handy.
A puma bag on her desk
Some twenty kilometers away was er….
Focus. Breathe. Brave.
The car took eternity
To spring to life
Another eternity
Maneuvering turns for exit.
Back to lights and life
Of metropolitan road
Glistening in rainy days.
She breathed.
Relief.
But perhaps a little too soon.
The hunter was still on prowl.

‘twas night still ...

Sunday, August 25, 2013

Hard came the fall

One little bird
Two little necks;
One little stomach
Two little pecks;
One found nectar,
Drank it all;
The other sought venom
In greedy call;
In went the beak,
Hard came the fall.

Saturday, August 17, 2013

Perspective

Granny often sat
By the small window
Admiring
What I thought was
Just a lonesome bunch,
Now green, now graying,
Now glistening with raindrops,
She, however,
Saw

Life dancing in every single leaf.


Picture courtesy Trifextra - Trifecta Writing Challenge


Tuesday, August 13, 2013

Touchwood!

The innocent babbling
Some that I can comprehend
Some that I fail to grasp;
Tiny little hands
Falling in
A comforting grasp;
The infectious smile
That holds me captive;
The naïve games
Those keep us involved;
And his antics
Keeping us on toes;
The learning to speak,
To walk, play, read and color;
The learning to live;
The curious eyes
Following us through;
The curiosity
To see him evolve;
The urge to grasp in
More hours, minutes and seconds;
For days fall seemingly short
And no time is ever enough,

To bask in blessed company of a child.
Touchwood.

Linking with Trifecta: Week Ninety

Friday, August 9, 2013

Cutting t(r)ooth

His first smile,
His first murmur,
His tiny feet
Measuring the corridor
In baby-steps,
His cutting tooth,
Pre-nursery school,
Bedtime stories,
I feel it was yesterday.
He is 7 now.
And growing fast.

Thursday, August 8, 2013

Abstract answer to abstract question

Your silence
Forwards
Your argument;
Putting into words
The tender,
Weak and fragile
Sentiments;
Speak it does
Loud and clear;
Voicing
The unheard
Yet seen and felt;
No, you don’t hate me.
You lied to me the other day.
Words, you could fake;
Words, I could believe;
But
For this silence,
Potent,
Perfect,
And
Promising;
I know you were lying
And
I relish
Knowing this;
Am almost
Basking
In my
Secret serendipity;
Whatever it is
That you feel
Whatever it is
That we share
It borders
On what they call
The essence of living;
It gives me
Reason to

Live.


Friday, August 2, 2013

Shadow-dance

Life:
A dance of shadows;
Momentary flickers
Saltating
And
Then
Fading
Into
The backstage;
The characters
Flitting
In and out
Of plot
At
Just
The right time;
The story
Woven
Worth

The applause.

Wednesday, July 31, 2013

Thank you, my friend

The hearty cacophony
A pleasant welcome
In the otherwise
Silent, serene seclusion.
A cup of coffee
On
A cozy couch
Served hot
With
Friendly banter,
Spiced with
Silly squabbles,
Sugared with
Picture perfect
Moments of
Relieving
And
Reliving
Life,
(As we know it,
As we knew it,
And
As we shall know it)
Sipping the heavenly
Bliss of being able
To band together.

Nothing beats that.

Friday, July 26, 2013

Color of broken heart

You’re asking me
The color
Of
A broken heart?
I’d say
It’s still red
That is
Minus
The
Ebullience,
Vibrancy
And
Exuberance;
Dull
Dead red,
Like
Boring,
Drying
And
Caking
Bricks

In sun.

Wednesday, July 24, 2013

Babbling about balloons

Balloons
Big and small
And
Lots of them
In
Bright beautiful hues.
Birthdays
Bring back
Memories from
Baby days
When
Balloons
Used to be
Big time thing
For me.
Right from the ones
That I could dribble
To the ones
Filled with helium
Or perhaps hydrogen
That would waft away
At the first instant of carelessness
And how can I forget
The water balloons
Bought
Basically
For savoring
The burst-splash.
When we were babies
We didn’t need billions
To be happy;
Balloons sufficed.
And today with all
Those trips
To Baskin Robbins,
And
Barista
Something’s amiss.
Baby days,

I want you back.

Tuesday, July 23, 2013

Ex Parte

The glitter
Got to her eyes
And
Spread
Itself into
A million dollar smile.
The sparkling
Splendor
Dazzled her.
The
Perfect size
Made her
Heart leap.
Like a wild horse.
This minute
She was in Tiffany’s
In faded jeans;
That minute
She had imagined
Her whole life
With him.
Things could be perfect.
Between
The two of them.
She had just reached
The foot of the altar
When she looked up in anticipation
“ She’s a childhood friend.
I’m sure you’ll love her.”
He spoke as a matter-of-factly.
She just wished
He had let
The charm

Work a little longer.


Saturday, July 20, 2013

Surmise

Like a stone
Tossed away
On aqueous stage;
Dreams wasted.
Like
Expanding ring
Of ripples
Synchronous stir
Spreading slowly;
The pain of loss.
Fading away
Into
Those unfathomable
Depths of water;

My being.

Thursday, July 18, 2013

ABC Wednesday - A - Archer's flight

And away! Far away! Far far away!
Archer knew this
Monologue
Almost by heart now.
After witnessing 21 fledgling flights,
Anybody would have.
So when it was his turn,
He stood erect,
Flapped his wings …
And jumped.
All before
That away, far far away wisdom.
And then it happened.
First the fall,
The sink,
The struggle
With air, assistance
And then lack of it.
Teacher’s voice
Became a background.
After seemingly long few seconds
And seemingly some more futile flapping
Archer found his bearing.
The proud teacher looked on
As another one flew

Away, far away, far far away.

Linking with ABC Wednesday - A

Tuesday, July 16, 2013

A thin hairline crack

It all starts
But
With a thin hairline crack.
And the next thing
You know is
That the dam has burst.
And that
There is absolutely
No stopping it.
Its like a whisper
That grows and grows
And grows
Until
It becomes loud enough
To be heard
Over the blaring din
Of surrounding minds and hearts.
Like a ripple
That strengthens to
A fierce storm.
And despite
The rush,
The flood,
The force,
One can feel
Absolute joy,
Pure, sheer bliss,
A sort of calm and peace
That is unbound,
Unparalleled,
And equally inexplicable.
But
And there is always this but
That makes things complicated.
But,
Like all exciting things,
Like playing with fire,
And not knowing if
It will warm or burn;
Like dancing on shards of glass,
Balancing precariously lest they pierce;
It comes with its risks too.
Risky – but worth the temptation.
And trust me.
You can’t go looking for it.
It comes to you – at the right time.
And when it does,
It will begin with

A thin hairline crack.

Wednesday, June 26, 2013

Some Rusty View

The rusting doors
Creaked
As his hands
Pushed against
Years of inertia,
Encountering
Familiarity
In atoms
Of
Stale air;
Tiny little feet
Wobbling in and out;
Balancing precariously
On parental love.
Carefree running
Of growing feet;
Away from
Fussing mother
And
Piling homework.
Lanky strides
Of
Teenage dilemmas;
Pandora’s boxes
Sealed with
Job, career,
Crushes, infatuations,
Lipstick and perfume.
And finally
The confident steps
Of maturity,
Closing
The not so rusty door
Behind
And walking out
Onsite;
Planning
For three months,
Extending
To three years
And now maybe
This whole lifetime.
The disconnect,
The void,
Spreading,
Deepening,
And
Strengthening,

Everyday.

Friday, June 14, 2013

Sum-time

The relentless sun
Burning and scathing;
A drop of
Chilled lemonade,
For parched throat;
Or may be
Cumin, mint and yogurt smoothie,
The elixir
Downed in a gulp;
The relief
Overwhelming
But

Shortlived;

Wednesday, June 12, 2013

The light

By and by
The light flickered;
Dusk lingered,
(A waning spirit)
And finally,
The sinister night
Claimed
The vast expanse
With
Sudden, swift
Descent of clouds.
Words of
Her sainted nanny
Rained down,
“Don’t you be forgetting
Your umbrella”
As she kept moving
Homewards,
Tired and exhausted.
War had taught her
To feel the rain.
To toil.
For survival.
To Fight back.
Just like the
Rays of dawn.
To wear
The
Battered
And
Soiled
Hem of
Her dress
With pride.
And to bury
The dead memories.
War had taught her
That
Life
Goes on.
Despite
The
Bruises,
Scars
And
Wounds.


Picture courtesy - Ermiliablog - Picture it and write prompt



Friday, June 7, 2013

The last minute

I fall, struggle a little, sink, some bubbles, some ripples and then it’s over, she thought.
She toyed with the idea for a while, took a deep sigh, threw back her shoulders and walked away from the bridge.
December night was catching on and the water would be freezing.

Wednesday, June 5, 2013

Junostalgia

“Hey Freak!
How’s you?”
Some greeting
For me
(Oh of course,
This and
The bear-hugs
Of my cousins
That completely
Swallowed me)
As
We arrived
In the
Sweltering,
Scorching
Indian plains,
After
Eight hours
In a
Creaking bus,
With
Dust, sweat,
Grime,
And
Anticipation
Of fun,
And frolic,
Written large
In our
Colgate smiles,
Days
Passed in
Sheer bliss;
Nights
Filled with
Insomnia,
Unending
Chat sessions,
Scary stories,
Dusky rendezvous
With
Fleeting friendships,
Cycling competitions,
Cool showers
For twilight,
Bedtime praying.
Of course,
We were freaks!
To be
Spending
Our summers
Away from
Our little
Cool and refreshing
Hilly hamlet.