Fledglings of Falcon

The wailing walls of Sirhind,
stand in sombre solitude.
The howling chilling winds,
the numbing weeping waters of Sarsa,
bemoan and grieve.
Eternally condemned
and permanently blotted,
these coffers
rocked Thy tender kids
to quietus.
The supple souls,
seasoned spirits,
and their ominous farewell,
Soil of Sirhind,
(fortunate enough
that such pious feet
walked on it
and regrettably unfortunate
to have become their deathbed) ,
witnessed
what we dare not dream.
Unwavering, unflinching,
unswerving and unyielding,
subtle yet strong,
the fledglings of falcon.
embraced their pallbearers
with smiles on their faces.
And this is their legacy.
They were bricked alive.
But they never died.
And never can they.

Welfare unto all 

Rab rakha 

Fare well

Zilch

Zillions in pockets,
pretty much zero in hearts, 
zombielike ratrace.

Linking with Blogging from A to Z April Challenge 

Farewell

You were born.
And your birth made him so happy
that he cried.
He held you in his hands
with reverence.
And he spent every second
of his short break
looking after you with love.
But you were too small, too infantile,
to register the word father.
Then he left. For his duty.
Service to family over,
it was time to serve the nation.
He had served his family with love.
He served his nation with sacrifice.
When they brought him home,
wrapped in tricolour,
the sad commotion surprised
the wide eyed toddler in you.
When they laid him in lobby,
you crawled up to his motionless body,
gently shaking his shoulder,
as if he would wake up from his eternal slumber.
When they laid him in coffin with state honours,
you patted the wooden box, repeatedly,
to hear the dull thud
your small hands made against rough wood.
Recognition, zero. Outright organic innocence.
That stirred the souls of the entire nation.
You may not recall this when you grow up,
but we do hope that you become his shadow.
Conscientiously dutiful

Yesterday night, he slept

Late again.
But her colleagues knew the reason.
So they did not seek explanations.
A middle aged woman,
experienced both in life and workplace,
stood at crossroads.
This was the least the office could do.
The patriarch of her family
had been admitted in semi-coma condition last month.
Only last week the doctors had sent them home.
“The hospital has done what it could do”.
It was prayer and serving and support now.
Prayers and life support machine.
Alive.
His heart beating, eyes blinking
blood flowing in the veins,
if it is called living.
Yesterday we exchanged a word with her.
“We are waiting, someday now he will ask of us,
He will wish for his favourite food,
He will recognize us”.
Yesterday night he slept.
And never woke up.
Today she was on leave.
Will be for a few days.
We observed a two minute silence dutifully
and proceeded with the day.
But my thoughts keep drifting
to that kid in her
who was waiting for her father to get well soon.

Memoir

Smitten by her loquacious eyes, I committed my life to her, and for a good 30 years she helped me traverse this circuitous journey showering unfathomable joys but how swiftly joy and sorrow alternate and before the blinking of eyes, she receded to a painting hung on wall but sinking into oblivion would have been denigrating to our "we" time so I chose not to wallow in her sorrows and took to exploring the Himalayas and while the demons of her memory stalk me continually, I am glad she still joins me in circuitous travels, she with those loquacious eyes.

Linking with Thin Spiral Notebook: 100 words challenge : Demon

Linking with Thin Spiral Notebook: 100 words challenge : loquacious 

Farewell

My mother is packing my bag,

because I am too lazy to do it myself,

and because I stack things in a horrifying manner,

and also because deep down she knows,

I am being dramatic;

That my postponing this exercise

will not change the fact

that I have to leave tonight.

My father is hovering around

hiding a green apple or two,

or maybe mandarins this time,

between the folds of my clothes,

our protests notwithstanding,

And I am staring at the

fluttering list of holidays.

All my bags packed,

I leave an important part of me behind – my heart.

Linking  with : Thin Spiral Notebook: 100 Word Challenge: List

The last hurrah

She savored her stay with us.

Every single moment.

A slight pause,

Miniscule almost.

And then

It was time for her,

To wander

Beyond the horizon,

Behind the sun.

I still remember her last hurrah,

“Alright! 80 years of heaven are up”