Now playing (NaPoWriMo)

(The camera pans leisurely)
It is dusk, the sky painted in pastel hues
a smattering of cumulonimbus clouds
floating shyly
the setting was pedestrian
as pedestrian as it could get
potholed road, cattle roaming free, horns honking, vendors peddling
drum rolls…er, I mean thunder rolls;
a sudden heavy downpour!
like a typical damsel in distress, I twist my foot
on the uneven pavement littered with empty boxes,
tottering on unbelievably high heels,
as I fall in slow motion
I clutch at the nearest arm,
in the swarm of limbs around me,
for support. Dagger eyes glance at me
I hastily remove my hand from his arm
only to fall in a heap at his feet.
Cut.
After that ignominious and corny start
are you intrigued, interested enough!
Keep watching this space.

Today’s challenge is a fun one: write a poem that takes the form of the opening scene of the movie of your life. Does it open with a car chase? A musical number? A long scene panning across a verdant plain? You’re the director (and also the producer, the actors, the set designer, the cinematographer, and the lowly assistant that buys doughnuts for the crew) – so it’s all up to you!

Journaling (OctPoWriMo)

Day 30

Prompt: Diary

Form: Free verse

A whiff of mothballs takes me
to the dusty ephemera
that surprisingly did not
crumble under the pressure of time
as I look into the potpourri of my teenage memories
a cavalcade of emotions rampage all over me
bemused and bewildered I watch
corpses of defunct passion tumble out in a spuddle
the ferocious angst that ignited my soul then
is now just an ember; flaring up occasionally
the social activist’s dogged haunting
has kept my conscience alive
scattered in between the cobwebs
of spidery scrawls of scribbles
are the posies of verses inscribed in calligraphy;
kenspeckle for their earnestness
the apparition of my younger idealistic self
looms large, accusation writ large on its countenance
my moral compass is intact; only I have traded idealism for pragmatism
a whiff of something burning brings me back to the now
as I rush to the kitchen
the glimpse from the bedroom window gladdens my heart
sitting in the balcony
my teenage girl pours her heart in her journal.

The cup that cheers (OctPoWriMo)

Day 28

Prompt: Tea

Form: Free verse

Soother of jangled nerves
peace broker par excellence
rejuvenator incomparable
deal maker, irrespective of the size of the deal
world unifier,  conversation starter.

never finicky about how it is served
equally at home in a snooty fine porcelain cup,
a glass, a steel container
or an earthy earthen cup
nor bothered about accompaniments
shining on its own and graciously sharing limelight
with dainty sandwiches, cakes or pedestrian samosa and bhajiya*
warming hearts and hands together.

most versatile and chameleon like
changing colours according to surroundings
heavenly in its pristine avatar with no add ons
perfect pairing with milk or cream
sweet enough without sugar
but welcoming both sugar and sweeteners
suitably changing self to suit different tastes.

in good times, in bad times
for celebrations, at mournings
in a meeting, on a road trip
to welcome guests, to bid farewells
on rainy days, on cold wintry days
in the summer heat, in the humidity
all weather and all time favourite.

Warming, cooling, calming, uniting
tiny curled leaves unfurl gracefully under heat
fruity, smoky or musky aroma
manna for a parched soul.

*Samosa: south Asian savoury snack. Fried white flour pastry filled with spicy potatoes.

*Bhajiya: vegetable fritters

I must have written and discarded at least six poems on this topic. As is obvious, I am an ardent tea lover. This is more of a stream of consciousness write. Please overlook mistakes and repetitions.

Filling my cup (OctPoWriMo)

Day 25

Prompt: Cup

Form; Free verse

Every morning as sunshine pours into my home
the nearby mango tree waves cheerily
sitting in my chosen spot in the balcony
I pour fresh brewed tea in my favourite cup
feeling warmed inside and out
I feel the golden and amber seeping into my cracks.

The moonlight is a salve for my achy soul
bathing my being luxuriantly
the soothing scent of tuberose welcomes me
as I pour my heart on a pristine sheet
words flow seamlessly
my cup of contentment runneth over.