My Sister

She is the pillar of responsibility, that shares my load!

She is that understanding eyes, that listens quiet

She is that loud voice, that ferociously fights

She is, the happy days, safe place and chaotic night 

She is this wondrous warrior, that protects me in my plight

She is this adventurous soul, that explores and enlights

She is the warmest hug, that comforts unconditionally and  makes it all right. 

She is my guide, my companion, my confidant

She ... my sister

*This for that special person, with whom you can find home. on Request of a friend !

Savory Song

Savory song

No, I am not just that sweet smile on a pretty face

Neither the calm nor the kind

Rather

I am that angel with a crooked halo.

I am the charm that harms

I am the laze of Sunday afternoon.

I am the gaze that lets you dazed

I am that punch that stuns

I am also the words that strike

I am the bitter in the bittersweet

I am the darkness of the night

I am but who, that I show you

And remember

I am not all sweet but savory too.

Reconstructed Rains

It began to pour outside and something filled her heart. Little Zoya loved the rains.  In her mind the rains equated to happiness. She didn’t know why, but she loved every minute things about it.  To begin with the shade of the cloud, there were different from the rest, darker but not black, a graceful grey or rather silver as her mother would say.

They weren’t the silent types, they came announcing their arrival with music and lights. She loved to see the lights but the music scared her. Nani used to tell thunder came only when the clouds fought amongst themselves, “like mum and dad!” she had exclaimed.

After their arrival with the band, there were two possibilities. One they just pass away to destinations unknown leaving Zoya in wonder or they showered. And when they showered, that sound, It felt like a gush.. Nani said, when the clouds were overwhelmed, they pour their love on us, and the earth in turn made that delightful sound. But not always the sound was same. It was loud, when ice had showered! She couldn’t believe the clouds could shower ice too. She never got to ask Nani why, but she did try to taste that ice and in doing so, had successfully angered her mother.

She loved the feel, when the drops hit her palm. Sometimes like needles other she could feel only a chill. Sometimes too quick other too far. They were never the same. She longed to play with them but her mother had ordered supervised visits only. Nothing more than her hands were allowed and if her mum felt generous, Zoya’s feet were too.. Strict supervision prevailed at such times accompanied with a human taller than her.  Nani had taught her to say a thank you too when the rains spread delight and so she did.

The sound intensifies as she rushed to her courtyard, only to see her mother already arrived. She had bought coffee and hot bajji’s along with Zoya’s favorite hot chocolate to celebrate. At times such she felt a gush towards her mother that usually ended up in hugs and giggles. She then knew how earth felt.

Her father arrived on time to join them in their play, who got wet the most, a game she loved to lose. She liked it when the rains stopped too. The puddles they left behind, the joys of becoming a cold mess to be washed in a warm bath later was immense for her. She couldn’t wait to conquer those seas. That’s when her father told her to get a paper. Unhappily, as she got the paper, settling on his lap. He stared tearing the paper, folding and folding and folding and a boat appeared. It was an absolute delight. Now she, Captain Zoya got more paper to make boats to successfully conquer all her unknown seas. 

It would be very later one day, she recollecting the joy it bought her would make it a tradition to celebrate with her child.

The cruelest curse

To be loved in words but not in essence

To be comforted by silence but not in hugs

To be loud but yet unheard

To be generous in gifts but busy with time

To know. Yet, choose to remain unknown .

To be given what you want

But not what you need

By a loved one is the cruelest curse bestowed upon.

ILLUSION

Temporary
There I stood, constant at the edge
As the seasons visited.

 

It was strange, as it began with rains..
Unleashed she, the blessing casually collected.
Cleansed the crude, she flowed.

 

Then arrived he, the mighty winter
with coats and colds, ah! He plays the perfect role!
Warmth he spreads, in an ironic way that has to be said!

 

With her symphony she waltz, 
Autumn she was, as the piper who played
she carried away the leaves dazed.

 

In all the chaos around, arrived the standard spring
Swish.. Swash.. Blooms and sprouts
dutiful he, the usual colours he doused.

 

There I, standing at the edge, why so temporary I wonder?
Or is it I, that is  ever revolving and  In this dance of the Night and day
Its the role they have to play?

Belong

Sunset to sunrise
Sunrise to sunset.
As she sings his name
A name so divine to her
To her heart it belonged
Belonged it might to her heart
Heart of his, rather was entwined elsewhere
Entwined elsewhere in such a way
A way where it was dawn.
Was it dawn or dusk?
Where the colours of night and shades of the day merged
merged, as yellow mixed with red and twisted all the laws that were sewn
Sewn, they were in such a way
A way inseparable like thee and thine shadow
 Shadow she cast on his heart
His heart now brimming with her..
With her..  tell, I now.
Now to whose heart thy belong?