Lessons of life

Your story is not your story alone,

It entwines with people who cared

People who stood beside you all along,

Holding that hand to reach the path you belong

People who threw toughest of challenges,

Making you stronger through the ages

Your story is not your story alone,

It entwines with people who disapproved

People who ridiculed your choices,

Teaching you myths are to be broken

People who wished you fail,

Holding hope till the tail

Your story is not your story alone,

It entwines with people who ignored

People who called you strange names,

Making sure you turned stones into shapes

People who left you mid way

Realizing you didn’t need them anyway

Your story is not your story alone,

It entwines with people who loved

People who tolerated your tantrum,

Teaching that love is the only fulcrum

People who thought about you before them,

Making you feel blessed to have them

My journey is not my journey alone,

It entwines with people who came along.

First and last heroes

First and last heroes

Dedicated to the biggest strength in a child’s life - Parents

 

Daddies aren’t supposed to ask for support,

Mothers never call in for sick days

But time and tide never wait for anyone

I ask out aloud, “What is the scariest thing?”

I reply, “When the hands that held, reach out to you.”

It’s not the greying of hair or the pain in the knee,

It’s those invisible signs that give me chills.

When the pillars of your strength look up to you with hope,

Just to find they are hanging without a rope.

In the selfish run to achieve your milestones

You didn’t notice the quivering legs that helped you walk on stones.

Hands that crafted the veggies into delicious dishes,

Were holding a cup full of bitter medicines.

Eyes that helped you aim high and leap,

Was now struggling to get some sleep.

Sweat that dripped to bake your favourite cake,

To the wrinkled face that still smiles for your sake.

Days when your tantrum could get you anything,

To the days when someone is just waiting.

The free rides that got you to school,

To the long distances you never could commute.

From the tears of pride that roll down at your dance recitals,

To the tears that missed their names on your celebrations.

Arms that held you during the darkest of nights,

To the shoulders that slouches waiting for you all night.

When you waited for the advices to stop,

To the quietness that followed would forever haunt you out.

I would......

I WOULD……

A small girl who witnesses war at a very young age blankly mentions what she sees…..

If winds could talk, I would hear,

But all I hear around are heated arguments.

If clouds could hear, I would talk,

But all I talk is that I am afraid.

If trees could sing, I would join,

But all I join is the shattered families under the tents.

If mountains could join, I would race,

But all I race for is to save my life.

If rain could see, I would dance,

But I can’t dance as the ground is covered with thousands of dead bodies.

Flickering flame

I came to this world with tears in my eyes,

But brought others heaps of smiles

I was the apple of my ma’s eyes,

I was my dad’s little girl

Holding cherished dreams and wishes,

Aiming to touch the skies

Outside world welcomed me with hope,

Only to tell me I have no scope

Told I deserved to be a house cat,

My position was marked as a doormat

I told equality and fairness was my birthright,

They demeaned, called me the fairer sex sight

Discounting my credit all along,

I lived in a world wherein I had to shout out aloud

I tried to start a revolution,

Was pacified with reservation

I thought I won the battle,

Only to take blame for forsaking my stature

Shamed for choices of my life,

For my control over my own lowlife

Ignoring the cries, I pushed myself with all might,

Only to let the demons inside

They robbed me of my innocence; my pride,

I still fought to stay alive

Holding hands of my loved ones,

I heard the fire raging outside,

With tears in my eyes, as I took my last breath,

From a victim, I became the nation’s fight

The Wrinkled Scent

He lived his life as a flower vendor but it didn't fetch him a penny. Since he didn't know anything else to do, he found happiness in whatever he did.

The day I saw him, I noticed a spark in his eyes,
The twinkle will remain etched in my mind.
He was busy decorating his trophy shop,
Which stood along the bus stop.

Everyday he passionately cleaned the edges rickety,
The shelves that the running roads made rusty.
The summer heat brought beads of sweat and salt,
Which shimmered with the water droplets on his plot.

The air carried the sweet scent of his flowers,
Stopping each passerby to a halt.
But none stood to make a bargain,
Yet he stood there hopeful again.

I wondered some days did he make any money?
Was he able to fill the growl of his tummy?
I wish I knew why he sold flowers,
The smell of which seemed to fade fast.

Then one day I saw him smile at me,
That very second his eyes answered me,
The eyes with the twinkle said to me,
The flower’s scent was the reason for his wrinkle. 

Kaleidoscope

Life has come a vicious circle,

A topsy-turvy journey of memories fickle.

When I was young, I wished people took me seriously,

Now I hope they treat me more causally.

Life was fun when it just meant owning a doll,

Funnier is now when life itself has becomes a call.

As a kid I craved for new books for ages,

Now I miss smell of old rusty book edges.

When mistakes just required an eraser,

Not when it makes a heart of anger.

When numbers were your checkered Maths homework,

Not a judge of your performance networth.

When buying house fetched you rent in Monopoly,

Not establish your stand in the society.

When colours were just strokes of your creativity,

Alas, not the colours life throws at you to check your audacity.

When tears didn’t declare you an emotional fool,

Although, it served no purpose or goal.

I replay the tapes of my childhood again and again,

Yet to figure out what made me today so sane.

Fear

Long back, i tried my hand at writing fiction...this is my one and only attempt ..............thought of putting in my blog. Hope you have fun! :)

A stormy night can be very dangerous. Be careful, there are evil forces out to chase you.


It was a stormy rainy night, Jack quickly parked the car in the garage and headed towards his house. The rain was pouring so hard that in a few seconds itself he was completely drenched. The lightning struck and the electricity went off and Jack was left all alone in the pavement in pitch darkness. He adjusted his eyes to the darkness and tried to look ahead but all he could see was darkness and only darkness.

But somehow Jack managed to reach the house and tried to find the keys in his pant’s pocket and he suddenly remembered that he had left his keys in the office. In anger and frustration he banged his hand on the door and ended up hurting his hand. But suddenly he heard something in the dark and he tried to figure out from where the noise actually came. He realized it was coming from inside the house. Shivers ran down his spine. He was scared, it might be a burglar as his colony was known for thefts and even killings. But suddenly he thought how a thief could get into the house without breaking the lock. It didn’t make sense to him nor did he want to think of some other conclusion.
There was a cemetery in the neighbourhood but he didn’t want to believe in ghosts. But now things were different, he was standing outside his house with no keys to get in, there was someone inside his house and he was so scared that it was impossible to think straight. He thought of informing the police but how could he leave the thief here and call the police, the thief could have run away by the time the police arrived.

At last he thought that if he could climb up the pipes he could somehow reach the terrace and if luck favoured and the door to the bedroom was open he could get into the house. Thinking that it was the best possible solution, he started moving in the direction of the pipes by staying as close to the house and not losing track. Finally he felt something that felt like pipe and he wrapped his hands around it and started climbing it. He realised that he had become very heavy in the last few years and he was finding it very difficult to drag his body up. With great struggle he climbed up the pipe and managed to reach the terrace but he was so tired that he had to rest for few minutes before moving on. His back ached, naturally he was not used of getting into the house through the pipe. He finally gathered all the energy he had and went towards the door. And as he had wished his forgetful nature came to help, he had left the door open. Maybe that’s how the thief must have entered the house, he thought. Without thinking how careless and forgetful he had been throughout his life any longer he decided to proceed further. He entered the bedroom and again he had to adjust his eyes to the darkness. And when he did he realized that the thief or whomsoever it was had not yet reached the bedroom, it was just as he left it. The clothes were lying on the floor, the cupboard was open, clothes were hanging out and there were tea cups lying on the table but it was just exactly the way in which he had left it.

It was dark but the frequent lightning helped him to see where he was heading. He slowly walked towards the corridor and started to come down the stairs. He heard another noise and this he felt was coming from the kitchen which confused him even more. He thought, "What would a thief do in a kitchen, he definitely couldn’t be stealing food?"

Then a second thought crossed his mind, could it be a ghost? He did hear a number of stories of his neighbours having seen ghosts but he never thought them to be true. But now could it be possible that a ghost had arrived in his house. Recently his Aunt had died and she was indeed buried in the same cemetery and not only that, she was very obsessed with keeping things clean especially keeping the kitchen clean. He shuddered to think so, but could it be possible that his Aunt had come as a ghost to clean his kitchen and that also in his absence. Although he loved his Aunt but seeing her come as a ghost was definitely not what he wanted to see at this hour of the day. But he realized that ghosts obviously come out only when it was dark and not when the sun was shining. And what if his Aunt had turned evil after death and had come to punish him for keeping his kitchen dirty? And what if she had teeth and long nails to attack him? He knew that his thinking wasn’t making any sense but he couldn’t stop his weird imagination from running wild. He was so scared of his Aunt and her constant complaints when she was alive that he even hated the thought of meeting her as a ghost, cleaning the kitchen and that too with teeth and nails ready to attack him. He decided to stay in the hall and wait for his Aunt to finish cleaning the kitchen rather than disturb her in the process. He didn’t want to make her angry. He quietly sat down on the stairs. The thunder struck and he jumped in fright. Suddenly he heard a vessel fall on the kitchen floor.

This tension was killing him and he just couldn’t just sit there in the dark waiting for his Aunt to come out of the kitchen. His heartbeat was increasing every minute and he could feel the blood rushing up to his head. His hands felt numb too. He decided that sooner or later he had to face his Aunt so why not get over with it at the earliest. He bravely stood up and started walking towards the kitchen. He reached the foot of the kitchen and nervously peeped in, that’s when the thunder struck again and something jumped on his face. He was so shocked that he became unconscious and everything became blank.

Next morning, the police found Jack’s body outside the kitchen, they said that he had died of a major heart attack. Things found with him were a bunch of keys in his shirt’s pocket and a wallet with a photo of his pet-- a cat. That cat stood silently beside his master’s body, failing to understand why its master had reacted in such a manner when it had jumped on him.

And finally when Jack reached heaven, he did find his Aunt.