Wanting to turn the cold winds into a shower, she waited for the storm. That storm, she believed, would take her through a secretive egress that’d clear all clouds. The rhythm in her chest paced up signifying some complicated happiness.
If someone discovers you while yearning to be discovered, the feeling remains etched. Then, waiting wouldn’t be exhausting; it also won’t any longer be only the essence of sadness or loneliness. That was what she felt, a roller-coaster of emotions, that couldn’t easily be put in words.
What if that doesn’t happen at the dawn? Maybe, it’s meant to be at the dusk. The end of the wait will be that vibrant sunset, the best show saved only for the end of the day!
When people enquire about my busyness and the response comes out to be ‘I’m engaged or committed with something or somebody’, why can’t they just let it be? In awe, the follow-up is usually, ‘Why haven’t you told me yet?’. I mean, why should we announce if it’s just another part of our normal lives? Won’t you get to know if you’re meant to know?
How come the words ‘committed’ or ‘engaged’, in a multitude of minds, just associate themselves with romantic relationships alone? Can’t someone be committed to their family that requires special attention, their dreams that require extra efforts, just those regular chores that happen to be unusually long, or some self care practices that require more energy?
I strongly believe that commitment develops depths of emotions and understanding, be it in a hobby, a goal or a relationship. But, I don’t understand why this personal responsibility often gets mixed up with societal expectations.
There was an owl, and a mail sometime later, with a prompt to get home soon. It was once home, and will always be. But barely did it strike then that your voice nor my name will ever be heard thereon. The why was never answered and it’ll remain so.
A new star studded to the dark sky. It began to burn fiercely with that fuel of the pain it left behind on the earth. It is still as bright as the first day even after years, as if the fuel never depleted and is far from running out.
As a new norm, they communicate and discuss their deeply troubling issues in the relationship to strengthen the bond. But, this was totally unexpected. It’s not even a thought that has crossed the poor mind or that could even be imagined!
“After a little fight, your figure disappearing at the end of the street still remains inked in my mind. I hadn’t expected you to leave me then, that too locking me in.”
“I don’t even remember the incident. Which day are you talking about? Is it not a usual thing to lock you in when I go out temporarily so as to not disturb your task?”
An unseasonable lamp
Stays my side,
As rays of the sun
And shimmers of the nights,
Reassuring words of love
With her hands in mine! Like the touch of the wind
On a scorching day,
She is that touch wood
Amidst the decaying logs,
Making space for me to
not seek more but enjoy the lesser!
The tanka pictures the scene of a meteor shower. The territory is that of the planet Earth and the cloak belongs to the sable sky.
The poem can also be conceived as an expression of love, wherein the act of a man who appears hard on the outside (dark cloak) opening up his soft inner self (silvery streaks) to his beloved would illuminate her world that is already sparkling with the bond they share.
The water fallsWith the fallen leavesWhich make no soundAs the season spells fall.They flow togetherAs the stream flowsTo sink in the bed of beauty Steered by the scream of streams.
As autumn (season of fall) arrives in one’s life, at times, they (leaves) surrender to the closest cascade (waterfall) silently with no choice, even after which the unfulfilled memories follow the time’s (stream’s) flow to the bed (death) at the end of one’s beautiful life that would have been lived with the desired content and joy (screams).
Is it not time we kill those man-made social constructs like religion, race, caste, and class in which humans still hide their inexistent honour? Emphasizing this thought, this free verse is written with six words in each line, and a six-word story is quoted at the end.
Disparaging sanity of love, honour glows.
The crushed dreams fuel its fire.
I’m ecstatically happy to share with you the news that an anthology that I’m a part of, “Utmost Feelings” with the theme ‘Love’, has been released.
It’s been exactly a month today since the launch (29th June 2021). But, I wanted to share this news only after I received a paperback copy. The delivery was a mess, unfortunately, and I got my copy only a couple of days ago and hence the delay in the announcement.
Attached with bittersweet memories, this book will always remain special. Astha, the girl who initiated the process of compiling this book is no more with us. Today marks the end of three months since her demise. But still, the legacy of her dream lingers in each word that the book holds. I heartily appreciate the efforts of True Dreamster, the publisher, who took Astha’s wish forward and presented this bouquet of love to her family as a tribute.
I extend my heartfelt gratitude to every person who’s a part of this wonderful project and all supporters.