Wild Is Life~

My sleep broke with the chirping of birds

 I came out stretching; started walking, crushing
  the forest litter under my tennis shoes,
There were stones in heaps; leaves,
 snail's discarded shells, acorns... 
Autumn month is untamed, wild and wilful
Rain pours, so does sunshine!

It was a perfect walking weather
crisp, clean and cool, away from the
 tourist-laden curves of the Hill Station,
 There were larks singing high up in the skies
 Frogs croaking, as if searching for the chipmunks, squirrels
Rain clouds armed with a longbow; O', impulsive nature took my heart! 

My feet continued crunching through the fallen leaves
Crunch Crunch Crunch...
The bees went on buzzing cheerfully
Buzz...Buzz...Buzz...
A gaggle of clucking hens exploded over the lush earth
cluck...cluck...cluck..

It was a morning borne upon a tide of music

The delight of walking, the deliciousness

of the cacophonies tucked inside my ears
created magic 

Inspiration gleamed in my eyes...

I started whistling to their tunes 

 became more alive, more real…


A part of it was written in kasauli sitting outside a Himachal Pradesh Govt Resort...



 This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda....

I was deeply moved when Blogadda featured it as a WOW  post...!!!

When Words Fail...

‘I wish someone told me…’
Dreams I was dreaming belonged to the dream time
They were enough to embrace me, stifle me
And obliterate me at some point of time!
Looking back, I think now
Why did I take so long to break the rules?
A precarious existence wouldn’t have lasted long
It left me in tears, oozing love smudged the air
He had two loves; two precious hearts to die for

 I kept fighting for my share, for my rights

Ah, there were things I did not see; or may be

 I didn't want to see; I wanted his destiny to become mine,

Alas! My revelation was shocking to say the least

 I couldn't take myself away from the orbit of his world

---real or imagery, I kept ignoring his flaws

For me, love was God, pure, sacred; almost a religion

So, my struggle continued...

I neglected my own self…more than all

What a waste of time and energy it was… now I think,

The scary nights when I didn't hear from him

Felt almost faint with deprivation, humiliation

My wayward dream for return of love was ridiculous

No one came to know; I never put my agonies into words

But one night when he returned home; I tried to talk,

But...he sealed my lips with his mouth

How I hated him that night

His demanding, probing hands, and mouth rattled my bones

He convinced me about my ‘worry-wart’ nature

He sounded accusing…he was in his element

I pushed him aside, felt liberated
Facing the truth that night

It was a night to celebrate

He looked at me with most pitiful eyes,

Tears had made his irises red;

Upper-lids were swollen like blisters

He opened his heart and asked me to forgive him…

We sat side by side, numb, ...there was no pain

Thank God…

My little heart was strong enough to let me ride on it

‘I wish someone told me…’

That love is a fantasy and not reality

It creates a space to be left alone later 

I hesitate to use the word ‘love’ today

For me love is naked; he'd sullied the purity

Love separates, brings pain

Love is choking, cloying, distant and oppressive

Past is, what I treasure today as a symbol of pain

Still there’s something of him everywhere

Memories still follow me like a snake

The hooting of the owls,

Howling of distant jackals, and dead of night

Add more to the mind’s debris,

And pushes me to a dead-end

I dun know how to get rid of the aches 

The dark threads of memory

Ridiculously loop me in their grips, like snares

‘I wish someone told me…’

Splendors of romance

Have something foreboding

Beneath its opulence

Adultery—what an ugly word!

 This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda....

Iridescent Clouds

IRIDESCENT CLOUD....

Sun dips behind the clouds

in the sedentary western sky

Tossing a canister of paints

to drench in its plunging rays.

Strips of colors

Displaying fury and helix

Gush out… morph

Into a gleaming rainbow.

A strange synthesis

amid world's grandest scenery

grips the evening sky;

Colors, with tiny swivel of their heels

resembling little Macaw birds

Leap at the sun rays

clouds go drifting by

colors spray paint the mist

Another Rainbow resurfaces

 Flawless-- beautiful and so clear;
But, soon drizzles of rain

come blustering with winds

 blur the rainbow 

and stroll back

Darkness swallows the earth

Lightning flashes,

changes the regalia

 for good...

Displacements 

initiate prophesies of change

A new beginning 

lays mortality and

 mysteries bare---

Life's Twilight

I feel giddy with the pressure of age

Ties have frozen, tears must crystallize; 

Cooped up in my room...not knowing the future...

lonesome and insecure...a life continues to live

bits of me....do I still want to prolong it?

My heart is bizarre...hard, energetic, nervy

 It makes me see beyond the tangible

which my blurry eyes can't see

in life's Twilight....

How happy was my world….

With a paltry existence,

Tethered to the gleaming columns of my home
I traveled with passion and trust

I loved boiling up a kettle every morning

Enjoyed stirring the cauldron of daal every night

Worked hard scrubbing the dirty linens

Painstakingly, I worked through a lot of grime

Ah, that arduous trip seems like

A waste of time now
in life's Twilight...

  I hear the Surf Excel Matic jingle

Raving, ranting, swaying to a crazy rhythm

The 'vibrating molecules' strike the life chord; and

 give me strength; it widens my face into a smile

I realize, I must soak no more!

nothing should make me quit...Ever!

The quivering ride on my mind for sometime

Eyes and senses wake up, and then I hear a whisper,

'Veer veer... so that people understand

that wrinkled visage is still profused with life

This is your home...this is where you belong

You must reclaim the space, guard it well
Let peace fight the time

in Life's Twilight,...'

This has been written for 

The Surf Excel Matic #SoakNoMore Contest in association with Indiblogger.... 

DriZZling darkNess

It was like watching 

‘Jackson Pollock’

Creating a 'drip painting',

Energizing every inch of the floor

Without the usual easel

Palette and brushes.

The fog of the dusk

With easel of his own

Went on its merry way

Drizzling in the dark

Rode along; dabbled under the skin of water

Inky blue color grimed, glistened, splattered

and daubed amateurishly, and then

Gently glided into the hollow pool, and

eerily pinned the edges; 

Night perforated...

The moans of the breeze spilled over

Stirred the anesthetic recline of the silhouettes 

A masterpiece of the 'drip' emerged

Like a luminous pearl, shy of own beauty

A retreating nook shimmered,

Under the moon light!

Jackson Pollock, was an influential American painter and a major figure in the abstract expressionist movement. He was well known for his uniquely defined style of drip painting

Last Look

 

At 40,000 feet above

overlooking a monochromatic

expanse of rocks

I start feeling the effects of altitude

feel light-headed and giddy;

I sit cross-legged on the edge of the cliff

clutching the bundle of my bones in hand

I latch on to the thin air...;

The high gods are silent; today I am one with thine

I look down, and shout aloud

the rocks reverberate; I realize the distance;

I am no prisoner with a physical body anymore

Away from the greeds, fears, and hates which boil within it; 

 Like a rock, I have to be here for eternity…;

I have executed a strategic retreat ; henceforth

My days will be spent in peaceful contentment

But am afraid to sit lazily upon the mountainside;

Gravity must not transfer me back

to that nasty world down below;

To the world of rulers and masters

who repulsively burn the slums everyday

to make rooms for their limousines and mercs;

Emotions tumble every night;

leaving nothing behind but ash

This is the stamp on their destiny

the ritual I've seen so many times

Memory is like burning ash, it follows me

There's no savior except death; 

so in search of the inevitable

One morning, I threw a grenade at myself

Thank God.. I’m not living anymore!!

Linked to Poetry Pantry ~ Poets United

Hunt For A Home

Evening descended,

The blue sky still had a hint of crimson
Babaushka, the horse came to a halt
He looked through the gentle slopes towards home
It was far, town looked so torn and bare
Amid the stumps of memories, he fell silent
Only the footfalls of his hooves pierced the blazing stillness
Implacable destiny broke his age-old dwelling
His address was gone
…he'd lost his right to live in his home!

 He quivered, as his memories roared--the streets were full of blood
He remembered his dying master writhing, trembling in pain; 
and how he cautiously pulled him up on his back

Kept dawdling towards home; 
Before he could reach home; his master was pinned to the ground by enemies
Babaushka got on his hind legs, reared into the air; slumped near his master.
Pulled him on the saddle went sprinting over the hills, holding him stoutly on his back
Through the rocks, he saw the master’s wife in the courtyard; sure-footed he entered
He put the dead-body at her feet and neighed…and then
..........Hell suspended on earth!

A few lashes sent lacerating pain through his shoulders and collarbone;

Sounds of half-moan, and whimpering left his mouth---
Faithfulness a tragedy no doubt.!
She pulled the straps off his shoulders in anger and grief; banishing
Persecuting and letting him bleed into the deep teal of the night...
Wind shifted throughout the night
Babaushka was now awaiting a tiny slice of morning...
A paradise--- safe from snakes, pests was all that his heart was desiring
Away from the world of cheats who rub shoulders with death on the way
Tears blurred Baboushka's vision...slowly
The riotous bougainvilleas and the passion flowers drifted out of his sight
Only black outlines, ugly human figures stood on the ridge of the night sky

A profound peace slipped in; humming verses comforting the stallion
Baboushka stayed there until his pain and exhaustion passed …
With unsteady trot, stamping his hooves, he started moving
There were maggots multiplying in his wounds; he could smell his own blood
But, this was not torture, ...his heart went tripping to spread out; and he rose
He mounted on the flowing river; fishes swam and pecked his legs
But on rounding the bend something bit him hard, and his body twitched 
He looked down; it was a snake-infested stream…the horse's legs trembled
The angel of death came in the guise of a snake and took him away...

This post is part of the contest Ten words to a Story(or Poem).. on WriteUpCafe.com

CLOSURE~

The narrow door of the local almost sucked me in

‘Indomitable is the spirit of Man’, I muttered...

Once in, I saved myself from the fury of the scorching sun

I had a gift of disappearing –real or imaginary

So, I hid myself in a corener and ceased instantly

It was so simple to exist and yet appear not to exist

In a crowd, that was reproachful rather than welcoming

I looked on with many improbable ideas in my mind...

The crowd growing in size was soon heedlessly everywhere

I remained clutching window bars; concentrating on reading was impossible

Calls of the hawkers hummed along with the tunes of my ipod

There was not an inch to stand in the compartment,

But, it was amusing how the raucous vendors were triumphantly perched

On top of their large baskets of fish or vegetable with so much ease

Their sense of space was more quick-witted, I observed

Eminently, more virtuous than mine stuffed with prejudices

They knew, it was no use fighting for a little space

Co-existence is real…lay hushed.

First time, I felt so incomplete.

 The crowd was babbling, brimming with an outwardly energy

The train lurched on, but my alter ego wouldn't surrender

An uncanny fear gripped me now

I took off my gold bangle from my hand, shoved it in the handbag

Created a  'net of precaution' around me

And this time, my beleaguered spirit barked at me (it rarely did)

‘The ornament was only an object, .....wasn’t it, just a thing? ‘

Licking the salted flakes of sweat from my upper lips, I crouched in shame

Ah, what a misfit I was amongst the colorful folks with simple lives

Adorned with so much pretence...

I became naked in seconds...

Humdrums never been the beat for me....

But, do I always have to be same?

My carefree mind laughed at my sadness

Squeezed between the contorted bodies on one side

And, grimy bars of the window on the other

I paid a price for my antics

Human beings thrive with life and madness!

For lesser mortals racism, consumerism, corruption have no meaning

Inequality and oppression in rawest form is rooted in their dreary drudgery

A ditty pulled me up to the surface...

For the first time, I felt cleansed and sanctified

Came across a beautiful alternative world…

So different…without sleep, luxury and senses

Where man actually survives without Technology’s lure.

He knows that the joy of sharing is actually priceless.

Away from my air-conditioned coaches and cars

His life moves on in an eternal sojourn

Everyday he stumbles, falls, gets up and runs

Frozen mind is eternally bliss.....

Indian local train service is the fastest way of getting from one side of the city to the other.Getting on and off the train is a specialised skill. There’s no room for niceties. People elbow, push, and shove their way through.Every time I get on the train, ( which is rare---I’m so thankful that it’s not a regular part of my life.

 This is a prose in poetry. A work that has poetic characteristics such as vivid imagery with concentrated expressions. Prose poetry deliberately breaks some of the normal rules of prose to create heightened imagery or emotional effect. Just trying my hands ..:)