Frozen moment

A snapshot of life in full glory of colours
stays encapsulated in the camera
frozen for the time being
as life fades into greys and blacks
drab shades of uncertain existence

the pace suddenly goes slack
the idyllic surroundings beckon
but eyes glide past, unfocussed
trivia occupying the turbulent mind
cofusion reigns!

the mighty changes unleashed so abruptly
getting entrenched in slow motion
life stands akimbo in a limbo
this genie refuses to be bottled again!

VJ’s Weekly Challenge #102: Pace

Eugi’s Weekly Prompt “Mighty”, June 29, 2020


Finally! free from the drudgery

of cleaning, sweeping, swabbing,

doing utensils in four households

her heart exhilarated!

but loss of monetary independence

now dependence on dwindling doles

perturbations pained her mind!

The thing that bothered her most

a housemaid for the menial chores

lockdown gave her the chance

to break this last shackle of injustice!

but mired in all the chores from morn till night

she wonders

where her “own” independence has disappeared!

Awol thoughts

When thoughts suddenly play hooky

then words are apt to go belly up

uttering incoherent sibilant whispers

they willingly withdraw into wilderness

called by a god, maybe!

you then become inured to vacuity

still you grieve, getting your knickers in a twist

you believed thoughts were at your beck and call

writing was your well-deserved privilege

oh, what a shame!

solitary confinement does not help

nor does seeking inspiration from other’s work

the brain refuses to comply with orders

you risk teetering on the brink of going beserk

you strain yourself, work up a frenzy

however hard you may try to coax

thoughts are in no mood to comply

content to curl up in suspended animation

and you end up feeling like a hoax.

VJ’s Weekly Challenge #99: privilege

Drama of life

The stage is set
the masquerade begins
don’t forget your masks
as well as the elaborate costume
the charade starts as soon as you arrive
and you have to keep the facade
till it’s time to exit
don’t try to look for the real persons
you will find none
acting has become their first nature
they have forgotten their true self
blend in, in this costume drama
or you will stand exposed
and standing exposed under the arc lights
is so damn lonely!

( Sorry Reena, I am late!)



words pirouette and tantalize

then bolt and disappear

syllables naughtily roll off my tongue

refusing to be counted correctly

thoughts are a jumbled ball of yarn

wickedly inviting me to unravel

ideas flit around like birds

tempting me to cage them

similes flutter on the edge of my mind

metaphors evade my grasp mockingly

I let them be

On others…

words string themselves into sentences

to flow seamlessly from my quill

thoughts and ideas are coherent and concrete

falling neatly into words

similes and metaphors adorn my writing willingly

nary a sign of delinquency

respecting the process

I try not to force the flow.


I give below three phrases

  1. Writer’s platform
  2. Writer’s Cave
  3. Writer’s Reality

Choose one or more to elaborate on your writing journey – not necessarily through this phase. It could be anything that happened before, or you foresee as happening after this.

The blues

I dressed my blues prettily

and sent out for fresh air

but it looked pensive in pink

standing all alone

where once blossoms bloomed

an empty bench, where loneliness sat alone,

invited it for company

but it trudged back home

lodging deep down inside me

content to curl quietly

dripping drop by drop,

painting my pained soul

I am learning to live with it

too tired to look for metaphors

I delve deep, cladding myself
in the darkest hue

revelling in the pleasures of darkness

bottling and imprisoning light

for it hurts my eyes and blinds me

blackness envelopes me comfortingly.

"you revel in pleasures of darkness
bottling and imprisoning light"

What do you see # 30 – 18 May 2020


Some days I shun news

(like the plague or should I say covid 19 now)

on others, I am a news junkie

zombie like watching the flickering screen

letting the incessant babble attack me from all sides

getting teary-eyed and raging by turns

being a willing puppet

to the machinations of paid media

carried away by the insincere rhetoric

And yet there are days

when I watch the daily tamasha* for amusement

like a bystander

same information disseminated differently

by those who support the official policies and the opposition

the righteous table thumping and fist pumping

criticism cutting to the quick

and conveniently legacy issues raised

it is a challenge to separate the truth from the gobbledygook

no one really bothered about the real affairs

scoring points, projecting concerned persona

more pronounced now than ever

my amusement turns to distaste

when the unfolding tragedy of migrants

fails to stir anyone to action

so many killed everyday, this way or that…who cares!

we are eventually just statistics

to be either bandied about

or pushed under the proverbial carpet.

*tamasha : a fuss or commotion.

O captain!

The ghostly galleon was a pale shadow in the skies

nervous moonlight peeped from behind the clouds

silvery, slithering snakes streaked down to the seas

the lone, ageing vessel valiantly tried to stay afloat

wailing waves walloped the deck again and again

the master helmed the ship stoically

though his heart was grim at what lay ahead

as the sea-spray hit his face once more, she tasted like memory

of all the good times he had had on her calm waters

and he smiled

her turbulent, troubled flashes of temper did not frighten him a bit

sea was his beloved, he could read her every pulse

yet, he admitted to self candidly, she could be capricious

he wouldn’t mind dying in her arms

but he knew they had many more years of togetherness

he had learnt to starve the fear that gnawed in his gut

never letting the hungry beast devour his mind

he used it to keep the fire in his belly alive

he had been successful in the past

it was a battle he was going to win this time too

he straightened his spine as he saw another wave coming

no wonder he was considered a legend on the seas!


What do you see # 26- 20 April 2020

Tuesday Writing Prompt Challenge: Tuesday, April 22, 2020

Eugi’s Weekly Prompt – “Legend” – April 20, 2020

Inspiration, a bird

For days I stared at the blank page, contemplative,

as I tried to gather the universe in metaphors

pen paralyzed, poised plaintively

words voiceless, suddenly amiss

endless time on hand stretching like a lazy cat

wasted on a futile pursuit of awol ideas

left high and dry by the secretive, masquerading muse

disgusted with the fickle-minded creativity

I wander off to the balcony, my favourite perch

only to be met with the baleful gaze of

the occasional visitor, the one-eyed crow

the nearby mango tree is half stooping

laden with flowers and a bevy of brown bulbuls

who trill merrily, a chorus so uplifting

that I stand there transfixed, as they soar and alight

uncaring of the murder of crows that has gathered

no question of a parley between the two parties

I decide to be a neutral observer

after a hectic and raucous conference

the crows cede space and fly away

the bulbuls fill my heart with a fluttering of their wings

I know now why my caged soul has lost the courage to soar

this once in a lifetime situation has clipped my wings

but my voice is very much in my control

and one day I will surely sing.

Friday Fun – now