Playing with the delicate glass bangles
tinkling on her dainty wrist
a half smile hesitantly appearing and then disappearing
hopefulness sits expectantly on the rims of her dark eyes
myriad thoughts crowd her mind
she hushes the annoying tyrannical ones
determinedly focussing on the pleasant only
tingling at the thought of happy disbelief
that she hopes would be writ on his face
as she muses on the reason that had led to the silly tiff
and her walking out in a huff
her face mirrors the startling emotions running amok
swinging her from despair to elation
but as the evening progresses, she is sure
they would put behind this disagreement and move ahead.
Distant evanescent lightning
imparts a faint blush glow to the room
I am faced with the prospect of being alone in the dark
as mom and pop are away
losing track of time, I am plagued
by dangerous thoughts
banishing them away, I stay brave
I don’t want to go anywhere
history repeats itself, they say
I sit on my bed waiting
for the very social Goldilock’s arrival
‘cos I don’t believe the rumours about her.
I would like to share with all of you my happiness that my poem A foolish notion has found home in Spillwords.
You can read it here.
She sat on the stairs
Clutching her teddy
Her eyes on the road
Waiting for dear daddy.
Her eyes wandered around
A sea of faces around her swarmed
Her school bag heavy with books
Bewildered, she waited for her mom.
As she played in the park
Her gaze fixed on the gate
She participated listlessly
All the while, in best friend’s wait.
She paced restlessly in the college campus
Glancing every then and now at her watch
He was late like always to pick her up
She waited for the one who was her perfect match.
It was already time for kids to return
But she could hear no footsteps outside
Her ears strained to hear their voices
As she sat waiting for the apples of her eyes.
It was later than the usual office timing
She sat resignedly on the armchair
It was becoming a habit of late
To wait for her husband, but it was difficult to bear.
She stood in the balcony, as if carved out of stone
He was late yet again in spite of warning
She knew not what she could do
And so it went on like this for her
Till on her deathbed one day she lay
Everyone prayed for her pain to end
But she knew she would have to wait for another day.
Moods swing her like a yo yo
one moment euphoric and high as a kite
but the very next minute insecure and fearful
one day life feels like an extended vacation
and the very next day even moving out of bed seems impossible
the rollercoaster ride her hormones are taking her on
leaves her breathless and bewildered
running on low esteem and raging emotions
standing in front of the mirror
looking critically at her stretch marks and bulging belly
she smiles at her reflection and blows a kiss
then says aloud,
“You are the most desirable woman right now!”
The blues did not come from out of the blue
they slowly soaked his skin in sorrow
the restlessness quietly jangled his nerves
his eyes became twin pools of reminiscences
sehnsucht washed over him in wave after wave
regret a dagger stuck in his heart
was twisted with exquisite precision
by every passing second
fool he was to spurn love
for it frightened him
the way it pulsated in his bloodstream
a life of unencumbered living was what he wanted then
now standing alone watching his reflection
remorse turns his bones to liquid
and he wonders how he could have
shredded her dreams in seemingly dignified air of victory!
I am happy to share that one of my poems found home in the latest issue of Indian Periodical.
You can read my poem Pocket sized sun here.
Pocket sized sun
The forest of my mind is a maze of distraught darkness
the days are dull, discoloured,
devoid of any drama
the nights are chilly, lonely and forlornly moonless
a wilted wallflower waiting
for a pocket sized piece of sun
I wander aimlessly, blindly
being gulped by despair and devoured by silence
silence that leaves bite marks all over me
silence that comes unstuck in the air
mingling with fear and sweat
and keening softly in my ears
rain washes away all the markers I had left
now lost forever
I keep losing myself over and over again
my mind fiddling with reality
a handful of truths slip through the cracks of my fist
as I try to pummel the lies
spinning their web tight around me
my days segue into weeks that segue into years
but the pocket sized piece of sun continues to elude me.
My beloved, I curse the day I said yes to you,
It was my prerogative, no doubt
It could have been sooner my beau
I so fell in love with your pout!
You are the inspiration for this third class verse,
My love for you colours my vision for better or worse!
Written for terrible poetry contest.