Tag Archives: Hope

Leaves

A leaf swigs every droplet but burns with thirst for the last one one resting below on the shard of grass. Have you seen a falling leaf as it breaks free? When it gives itself into the hands of morning breeze that makes it pure by cleaning off all the droplets resting upon it. As the leaf touches the ground and prepares to hold the last drop into it’s embrace, a shoe tramples it and makes it filthy again. The first and last kiss from the drop makes it all worth it for the leaf. The worth diminishes though as it is raked along the dead leaves. It cherishes the ecstatic death only to realize later that it’s thrown back into the same pit, the same cycle. Even love is an illusion and so is success. The end is to come and it is ‘the end’ no matter how much glorified it is. Every cause worth fighting for will be forgotten, a thousand years from now. Every pain worth crying for will fade as the mind gets bored and looks for a new pain. Every beloved droplet, worth dying for, will lose its purity after life parts ways and lose earth would trample upon the lover. Come let me make you a drink while you sit beside me holding hands, watching all the falling leaves until there’s no dew left worth dying for. Maybe the leaves won’t take birth as there’s no more dew left to give them the pain of droplets. I want to see that void with you by my side. I want to see you watch me fall in love with that void and then being pushed off to my last. When you witness that, do remember every moment that unfolds. Start from where I leave as I started from where left the leaf. Let this cycle go on till eternity. Then you would have the answer to whether the leaf’s death was worth it or a mere pity.

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Child Labour

Ring ring the poor girl dies

Surprise me if an onlooker tries

Death as if the lil one fell asleep

Right where her broom used to sweep

Would someone embrace her now

In life not but in her last vow

So little but wanted to see it clean

Yet the stains on her clothes go unseen

Don’t be mistaken by the innocence

In her sleep, death, might you sense

Ring ring the poor girl dies

Surprise me if an onlooker tries

Love

Love for a lifetime is not essential if you had a single day to feel love of a lifetime

A Mere Smile

What knowledge would teach
about this swelling beauty
that makes a gaze pure
over lips cascading slow
A mere smile, a lover’s paradise
Nothing exists beyond or before
a dying oldman’s ‘cherish’
Swiging along the swinging chair
A mere smile, a lover’s paradise
Not age nor prudence
and all books in the study,
with sweet tales of ecstacy
could meet the horizons of
A mere smile, a lover’s paradise
Hushed serenity that jolts,
running inside, coupling
joy with dancing happiness,
an achievement a trophy,
A mere smile, a lover’s paradise

Words from Prison

Dear,

This writing shall not replace the cold slabs under my stiff buttocks though it won’t make my indifference colder. Here we have a competition between stone and a man’s perseverance. You must have heard about ice over oceans which gets harder against harsh winters. These slabs are water and I’m the ice. I don’t know when this winter of my confinement will end but I won’t break until the end. This irks them the most. They are mere officials who follow commands. Hard working young men, trying to break me everyday but failing. I hate to see them exhausted and angered when they throw me in this isolated cell for revolting with my silence. They are not at fault. They exist in the same whirlpool that keeps me confined and makes them watch over me, where in the vortex I dance with the victim.

Are you the victim, love of my life? I might be a loathed rapist but the implications have made me a thinker and transformed thought into word. What a wonderful experience it is to be disgusted in courts and public and papers as a perpetuator of beastiality. Prison is the only place that harbours beasts and these inmates respect me in the most heinous ways. I don’t stay with them because I’m not one of them but they don’t know. No one knows that but me and you darling. I can taste blood in the corners of my mouth from yesterday’s punch by the prison warden. My bones creak under the flurry of batons. But I sit alone, in the calm,  memorising these words to write them on a paper until I’m provided with one. I see you in the dark. I see ‘Me’. You are the best con of my life but I’m the artist this world doesn’t dare to see.  I’m coming! And I would love to see the look in your eyes when you see me. You won’t be scared I know, but the look of defeat in your eyes and impatience for the next plan to throw me back would be my ecstasy. I’m coming! Alive? I don’t know but life has never been a medium for me. Just a life imprisonment more and I will be there. You know what I would have become by then. You out of all the people know that well. Convey it to whom it concerns. Prepare yourself before I put these words on the first paper I find. Prepare yourself for I’m coming!
Yours