My Heartbeats

Hands so little and face so naive,
To tiny footsteps crawling into my life.

Rush of energy & moments of pure pleasure,
To the radiance of innocence shining from the purest of pure.

It brings back melodies to my memory,
Those long forgotten tales of bravery.

Reminds of Jill came tumbling after,
To fairies never failing to say happily ever after.

From the shattering of your unbreakable,
To breaking smiles to faces unshakeable.

All this comes like a symphony to me,
Waking a dormant hidden part of me.

To hold on to that little finger,

To start the most magical journey ever.

The Tragic end of my life

I sat on the balcony thinking aloud,

My heart beat twice and came to a stop

Eyes blurred and my mouth choked,

I asked myself, “Am I having heart attack?”

My time had come to bid adieu to life,

I tried to turn around and say goodbye

From the corner of eye, I saw a movement,

I thought the gates of hell were opening

To suck me in and take my soul

At last I managed to look at the sight

There sat a cockroach equally quiet

My sixth sense said, “You moron!

Stand up, run and save your life.”

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.