Warring Words

A hot scalding summer noon
The breeze burnt our cheeks
Scrubbing as though with smoked charcoal
As the loo gained speed
Inside a dashing car
We fought over a ten rupee note
Our ardour matched the heat outside
As the cacophony of raised voices
Reached the crescendo
We conveniently forgot
The frivolous excuse
Which had robbed us of our rationality
In the grip of an insane rage
We fought a daggerless dual

Of venomous words
Tearing each other apart
Bit by bit, layer by layer

When the evening burnt the skies to ashes

We chose a pregnant silence to speak for us
Seething in grave disdain, familiar in our contempt
We turned a little away from each other
And bit our lips disgruntled

Perhaps tomorrow or the day after
We'll look at each other sheepishly
And smile with quivering lips contritely even
But a deep gash has grazed the hearts
Which ripens each moment oozing blood
As red as the cherries iced on her B'day cake
Making me toss and turn on the bed

Hour after hour as the night owl derides

My smothered rants

She sleeps in another room fitfully
A slice of moon sneaking across her face
Where the tell-tale marks of dried tears
Leave a blazing trail on her age-worn cheeks

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Joyful Little Bird



Autumn burns within me
As I feel the spring in his walk
A few gray strands mock me
The fine lines around my eyes
Smile benevolently  in return
The wrinkles on my hands
Indicate the years on this planet  Earth
I groan softly as I move
From one posture to the other
The pain in the joints poke me
In search of a comical interlude

Then there are many more

Hints covert as well as overt

Pointing a finger at the approaching winter

But I laugh in sheer pleasure of living

Life is just not sizzling in summer

Impaled in winter

Joyous spring and arduous autumn









 

 

 

Life is living beyond the seasons

Tells me a little bird

Every morn as I wake up to another day
She rocks the tender twigs of my plants
And shrieks in abundant glee
Isn't it? Isn't it? Isn't it?







 

Rift

Well, last summer
You did leave a message
For me on Facebook
This day
When I leave one
You say “I’ve lost faith”

Do I hear your foot steps
In the whisper of the wind ?
There’s a fragrance that blows in
From a faraway land



Perhaps it’s a mistake
Coz once you said
“I do not believe in
Divine ordain”