I carom my thoughts
against the block;
not the usual one you know
but a fear of sort,
not to sound callow
or more a manic,
when my words escape
the electric bond
of type and erase,
of paras and essays,
glistening off my head
will pearls of wisdom
feel worthy of all this sweat !
Written for Monday Melting week 4
Also linked to Open night @ dverse
not the first time like she thought;
nor the last time like he assumed;
and talked of impressions and feelings;
without saying a word.
Image prompt @ Sunday Picture Press
Silently she hears
from people unknown
of things, men and women
others are jealous of;
of colors and fabrics
and the patterns worn;
of this and that and more,
but will tell you not;
she knew it better
even before you told;
she’s forgotten by most
but her senses still
can beat yours.
Written as a dedication to one of my relatives I love to talk to. She maybe not one of the best persons I know but she indeed has a brain worth being jealous of.
Also linked to G-Man’s friday flash55
Wisdom comes to you from unexpected places and people too. Same way, a reminder to be aware comes at unexprected times.
As I went for the daily walk with my friend today morning , we were stopped by an aged guy walking in direction opposite to us. He asked if we were students ( I wish I really looked that young ) and so on. Before we parted , he asked do you know the name of India’s first PM and President ? Well, I did. And the latest he asked. I did know that too. He was pleased. And I was pleased to see that smile at his face. And that moment I thanked all my teachers and my friends now who keep me aware of the world around me.
Half an hour later, in the vegetable shop, me and my friend were discussing about some shopping we did last week. And I casually said “have you gone mad?” to her. An aged guy turned to us and asked if it was really necessary to say that one sentence. I was totally embarrassed. He did not stop at that and kept adressing everyone in general, adding “if only such sentences could be avoided, there would be so less fights and arguements.” So true ! I reflected as I came back home. We really have spoiled our manners and conversation skills. Its not wrong to be polite to all and at all times.
Thank you Oh wise older generation !
We still have a lot to learn and preserve …
In unknown lands that do not feel that way , She sat wondering about herself and what led her here. He paced in the room without reason, occasionally looking at her and nodding in approval. He knew not why he was there with her, more importantly, why she chose to bring him along on this journey.She smiled at him, as if reading his thoughts. He finally gave up all his thoughts and joined her in bed. Collecting her in his arms, he kissed her forehead.
“This is perfect.” she whispered to herself.
“you really think so ? You do not even know me” he laughed lightly and hugged her close.
“I know your words , and my words know you.”
” One can not live off words these days”
“Can you not ?” , she asked with disbelief.
“You look determined to prove me wrong”
“We’ll make believe we never needed any more than words”
“or this” he finished her sentence, like they been doing from last few months.
“yes, we only need us and our words”.
He smiled at her grin. She grinned further finding the love in his eyes.
For the IndieInk Writing Challenge this week, Cheney challenged me with “We’ll make believe we never needed any more than this.” and I challenged Steffani with “will the room cease to exist, if there was no wall ? Or will it become a larger room. Will he like that, I wonder”
I separate an image of myself
from who I am, or appear to be;
A frail soul in a wax replica of me,
melts and solidifies the hidden anima
as thoughts percolate over damp edges;
my timbered voice fills the hollows
made in marsh heart by acid of reality;
self-healing might not last this night …
Prompted @ Monday Melting. while the actual inspiration was this image I saw on another blog ..
“It has to be here”
“Then Why can I not find it”
“This is the road of riches?”
“Yep. More shops. Less people”
“I swear, the pic was taken here”
“Where exactly was he standing ?”
“Staring into a shop’s display”
“Gosh! that would be the toy shop”
“you and your pet! teddy lovers”
Inspired by Indigo spider’s Sunday Picture Press
Linked to G-Man’s friday flash 55
Well I had no plans to fill this space with any “lonely” talks. But reading this post by Yogesh triggered some thoughts about it. A person sitting alone anywhere is assumed to be lonely. Most times he/she is. Unless you know how to fill the time and space around you with your imagination / or other’s imagined words ( i mean books , music etc) , you are going to be lonely when alone.I have long left being lonely at such times.
But there are times I feel lonely and thats when I am surrounded with people i know, certain friends and family. I would be normally taking part in the activities or conversations and then one moment I would miss some one. I would feel lost and helpless so much that the people around would appear strangers. Or atleast I would feel I am a stranger to them if they can not guess my lonliness. Its ironic that at times when I expressed such feeling, my friends said I am going crazzy since I do not have time to be alone or feel lonely. With so many friends and things to do crammed into my life, do I really have any time or right to be lonely, I once asked myself. More importantly, why do I feel lonely in a crowd. It was not about the people, but about what interests you. Or maybe I am so damn used to keep pain as a pet, that I forget how wild it can get at wrong times. How some memories you burn down are kept alive by the tears you did not shed one night. All those haunt you and tease you to let yourself free. But the timing is not right. Not in front of all these people. So I miss the one who can let me cry and talk at same tme and still smile at how stupid I sound. Who would understand my reasons and not worry about what to say. I miss such friends and I feel lonely with the rest.
(source : imgfave.com)
She was scared. Nervous actually, she corrected herself. The roads were packed with people and vehicles.The noises were almost deafening. The drums , excited children, frustrated grown-ups, irritated shopkeepers – all add to the set of voices that together troubled her a bit. She loved lonely walks, yet never ventured out of her neighbourhood alone. Ironic that it may sound, her wandering habbits were limited to within 10 miles of her home. “Never at home , never so far from home either” , her mother’s favorite line about her. She always felt there was a different meaning of this line.
She had travelled from far in search of some answers. She could not let her fears paralyze her now. She looked around , feeling scared from every harsh look at her. she felt so tiny, she wanted to vanish some how. And then the music hit her. She had never heard anything like that. The drums faded from her ears, all she felt was a heart beat – not hers she soon realized, but of the approaching circle of people. Dressed in black, some men and women , equal in munbers, had formed a circle with a speaker in the middle. They slowly started a chant, clapping their right hand on left side of the chest – exactly above te heart. It was as rythmic as it could be, and it was heard clearly. Very clearly she mused,looking around. Every one had falled silent. She could feel the skin on her arms tingle with excitement. She was losing herself in the music and getting dragged into the crowd.She did not resist it even once. Soon she found herself a part of the circle moving sideways as she added her silent clap to the song.The speaker turned to her, gave a smile and said in a whisper , “You are the odd one. Welcome. We been looking for your questions.Here the road ends for you.” And then everything spaced out. She found herself standing in the middle of the road, people staring at her with concern and confusion. but the music lingered in her soul. And that she followed from there on , all life long, in search of the speaker, who for once showed her the home she wished and the way to find it.
For the IndieInk Writing Challenge this week, Jay Andrew Allen challenged me with “Never been so far from home” and I challenged Jen O. with “Open the page of your favorite book/ or have your favorite poem or story (first 10-15 lines) open in front of you. Pick one word from each line of it and write something using every of those word.”
He,gem of wisdom
lies forgotten and forlorn
a wet death by air ..
Written for Haiku Heights , Magpie Tales
People do not make tribes,
it happens on its own accord;
but each tribe does have a soul
a music, a breath,a life,
an identity that’s just its own.
Tribes do not produce people
they are accumulated over time;
but each tribe gives itself a leader
a voice, a face,a name,
a place to leave its mark in life.
your lips on my head ~
bond of love i wanted ~
bond of care i cherish
Pages will turn tonight
your memories will burn in peace
I forgive the hurt
the flowers bought
but delivered not
still smell of her
Brilliance of dreams
shine in her sleepy eyes today;
she was in his arms
Also linked to G-Man’s Friday flash55
Her skin rippled
corseted within his gaze;
her soul extracts from its folds,
a velvet bed punctured with trust
She angled her face
to the luminary satteliite in sky
making her jewels glint in the dark
irretrievably admired by demons and gods allke;
the hunt ends tonight,
everyone pauses to stare
centuries had waited for the power play
his brutal call of lust mingles
with her sullen ochone of being made dirt.
Written for 3WW , Monday Melting (Week#1)
Cara was a beautiful angel – lovely , kind and helpful. but she was lazy too. She would often be found dreaming about her prince charming or gazing into the open skies for clouds when she actually must be working.
One day, the Queen of angels – “The mother” as every one called her, was touring her garden.When she came across her favorite corner, she found it littered with dry leaves. Of course she could turn them into green ones or better into flowers if she wished, but she never did that in order to teach all her angels to clean the area as it must be. It was Cara’s duty that day to clean the dry leaves but she was lost in the book of magic tales written by her favorite human author.she did not even notice The Mother standing in front of her with anger building fast in her head. And in the same rage, queen turned Cara into a stone statue and sent it to Earth. the yellow leaves and her broom followed her trail and settled around her as well.
And later when she felt, she was too harsh, she willed the curse to be broken by any guy who would cleanthe mess around this lonely statue. And so Cara awaits for the day she would spread her wings and be back in her city. Help her if you ever come across her please.
Image : Title Unknown by Steve McCurry (http://stevemccurry.com/galleries)
I hid your name
in the extra spoon of sugar,
i added to my coffee;
in the smell of wet grass
i walked over in winters,
in the yellow flowers
you loved to give,
in the lines of the book
you suggested to read.
I hid your name
and never said it aloud
till he whispered in my ear
you can let the secret out.
I never knew I would heal
once i talked of the hurt
what i thought as invincible
he banished it from my heart.
Some one asked me to imagine being on a star and be able to see all and everything in the universe. Not the inhabitants, but everything else. No one asks such questions these days, not since some one last asked me, where would i want to visit in my dreams. So I was out of practice when this question was asked. I replied, I want a sparkling neat and calm river, trees of coolest shades, grass of softest green and flowers of all shades, and ofcourse night time to last always. Darkness studded with golden lights and filled with air that shimmers as I move. A lovely corner set up with books and chairs for myself to spend my time.
And I deliberately skipped having a small lake with rocks beside it. I thought of having not to live alone but with some one who loved me, but did not say. I wanted to have a kitchen to myself and all fresh vegetables to cook each night, but I knew I would not like that alone. I wanted to have a velvet bedspread to lie down next to you and make images from the stars. I would love to have a glass dining table with just two chairs. I want pen and papers abound to scribble such fairy tales together and leave them for the winds to carry to far off places. I did not say all these, for I was scared to want more than I deserved. Even in my dreams.
Dreaming all that felt so normal. More than I knew. Maybe it was ’cause you only asked me this question, Something normal people do not !
with cooking -
I am, to You
what We create
This poem is dedicated to my best friend and mentor of life and its art forms.
naughty kids ~ rule my mornings ~ Calvin & Dennis ~ joy read ~ with my tea
“you are special”, he said
it was tactic, but i let it be.
“Be your own manager”, he said if you want to reach the Zenith. “And a good one too”, I added in my head.
Prompted @ 3WW , River of stone – Jan 2012
a winding river and
some mountain peaks;
in her eyes i see.
Oddly she stares
at the open skies,
wishing the rains
would wet her eyes
and not the memories,
of the wild she liked.
Written for Magpie Tales, Open Link night @ dverse
when a mirror I face,
I see the girl,
only you could love.
And not often
I wonder aloud
if I was wrong
to let myself walk out !
only to realize
the decision was made
not by my action
but by your thoughts
that suddenly changed.
Jan 1 :
Its freezing cold outside , and yet when I look at the kid smiling at me, I feel warm inside.
Resolutions , new or old
break not from you forgetting them
but ignoring them instead.
Written for River of Stones , Sunday Scribblings
you know MY good,
You know ME best,
You never let me feel low,
Even if i fail or give up a test.
You smile even at my worst joke,
And match it with your poorest,
When on a path better not taken,
You fight me the hardest.
Your hugs give me strength
Even memories light up the darkness,
Well wishes run short at times
But you know to understand the rest.
I will always be the spoilt one
Today tommorow and the days next
Only to enjoy the affection you have
For this bond,by birth or by a thread.
Dedication to my kiddo, fahad, saurabh and yogesh. You make me proud always to be your sister.