Sep 11, 2013 | Creative Writing
I make an attempt
I try to put the empty jar in water
It gets filled on it’s own
I try to stop the river midway
It gets accumulated
At the feet of my ocean
Turbulant
Rising into waves after waves
Roaring
Witness to silence
Ocean has never uttered before
I make an attempt
I raise my arms
I beg with my eyes open
I fall at my own feet
I kneel down
At ocean’s roaring silence
I make an attempt
I crush my soul’s bleeding lnsults
With the muffled laughter
And the owl in my tree’s highest branch
Looks surprised
at my brazen idiocy.
Sep 11, 2013 | Creative Writing
Sitting camotes at my windowsill
Looking out through the tinted glasses
I polish my whiskers
And the temptation to bark
At my foes and friends
out strolling on the thick green turf
Kills me
Moment by moment
I lick my paws
For that forgotten aftertaste of freedom
I wait till the bright afternoon
Goes off for a siesta
During fading lights of pre-evening bliss
To utter one silky soft mew
And stealthily walk out
through the cat flap
To merge into
Forbidden animal kingdom…
Sep 6, 2013 | Creative Writing
I turn the light on
And look for
The teltale signs
of a moon
Instead
A whole array of stars
Fall into my lap
And my thirsty eyes
Begin their search
For those
fragrant flowers…
Sep 6, 2013 | Creative Writing
Slowly I get up from my post
Leaving that threadbare
faded cloak lying on my bed
Flattened beyond recognition
Devoid of me, emptied of presence
As I wade through untamed grass
Knee deep, filled with weeds
I stumble upon leftover daisies
From an earlier open eyed dream
I cross my heart and fingers
As the red mail van passes by
Wishing for a night of blessed sleep
The midday strikes sharp
screeches it’s tail till wee hours
And the night
my very own night
Falls prey to it’s laments
Unsung, not spoken of, unheard
Forever unseen…
Aug 29, 2013 | Creative Writing
I walk the road less travelled
to reach where it ends
bewildered I am stranded midway
where no man stands
they either pass through this stretch
or they simply climb that curve
and take that foot bridge
far more easier to walk through
as it has a sloping edge
where walking slow is cumbersome
running along leaves you breathless
yet it reaches till the end
but…
do they know where is this end?
or where it leads
this standstill end?
or is it just a word written
in gravel
on this charcoal floor?
or is it just another cloak ?
to cover that threadbare dress
in which my soul stays encased…
Aug 27, 2013 | Creative Writing
The clouds are thirsty now
They had been quenching fires
Born out of hunger
of bodies we are imprisoned in
They had been soaring
Higher and higher
They had been roaring
Louder and sharper
They had been thundering
Lightier and brighter
They had been pouring
With the broken heavens
Yesterday
They sat down tired and spent
They sat down around the round table
They sat down holding their chins
In chipped cupped palms
They sat down thinking about rains
They were silent
They had been raining
They were thirsty now…
