Whispering voice from the window

Whispering voice from the window

With tone of hope but much of scare

Home alone, unsure what to do

I peep the window, gathering dare

 

Suddenly, the voice, I hear from another

Just as I peeked through one;

It sounds like an innocent call

Away from a villain, on the run

 

Quickly I move to the window

That’s close to the door, to peek

The voice is now clearer

Now, than before, more bleak

 

Approaching the door, some footsteps

I hide behind the curtains, pale

Audible, was more than two sets

With the tone of call becoming frail

 

I wanted to fling the door open

And look them in their eye,

But all I did is stand behind curtains

Until the meek voice I heard, die

 

Next day, I washed them well -

Splashes of red on the curtains white,

Pretending everything was over, fine

Dying with guilt of not even a fight

One step forward

One small step forward

Hear many, speak just a word -

Rapidly, I take two steps back

Making sure that old strings have slack.

 

Life’s reality is a staged truth -

A bucket full of agitated froth,

Above a thin layer of self,

Hidden away in a brightly lit shelf;

Where artificial light makes it hard to realize,

The preciousness, value and price -

Of happy smiles, caring tears

Of stolen hearts, possessive fears.

 

One step forward I take,

Run back two and a long break,

Speaking words only a few -

Swallowing more that are true,

All to keep my environment pleasant

A satisfied loving show of present.

 

Its a heavy challenge of grit -

Trying not to be a hypocrite;

Constantly solving the happy crossword,

While sheepishly stepping one step forward.

Ice

Living can sometimes be cold like ice -

We freeze when questions arise,

Melt while crossing heated bridges,

Flow in already carved ridges.

Heart races

With a notion of having a single lane,

Emotions gushing through the vein,

Widely opened eyes stare at reality

As heart races towards triviality -

Jumping over complicated relationships,

Slowing while over-analyzing friendships,

Ending the race in a strange place

From where home is impossible to trace!

Song unsung

Under layers of time,

A melodious rhyme,

Never sung in life that’s kept sublime.

A lost tune,

To harmony, immune -

Concealed under a timeless time-dune.

Joyous to thy ear,

Painful to thy peer,

Safely hidden from fury and fear.

If ever a storm, strong

Moves the dune along

I wish disappearance of the unsung song!

Cutting through the thousand miles

I can smell the dew on the white water lily

In the crowded bazaar of the vibrant town.

I can feel the vibrations of the dilly-dally

Walking on the streets I’ve always known.

I can sense the approaching storm of love

As my mom speaks with a commanding tone.

I can feel the warm breeze from silver clouds above

As I stand in my balcony eating an ice-cream cone.

I can hear the loud rings with chimes and smiles

When my lovely friends call on my phone.

I’m so close to cutting through the thousand miles -

To be there in a place I’ve known, my home, my own

Engulfed by memories

Walking around the paths green

Walking down the stairs and up

Lovely smiling faces seen

While holding a tea cup

Fifteen people on a table

Plates of food through the crowd

Lots of voices, rattle, babble

Silent looks and laughters aloud

Comfort on the seats with no cushion

Even on bumps and pot-holes

Music, merry, teasing and confusion

Bus filled with love and delighted souls

The mid-day songs by email

The evening snack meets

Jumping around like with tail

At birthday parties with treats

Memories so touching and vivid

Memories that turns into happy tear

In an ocean of emotions, I stand amid

Engulfed by memories so dear

PRIDE

Walking with his head high

With his ego touching the sky

Dint bow to the king who crossed his path

And got the king to show his wrath

 

“I protect him and give him food” – the Kind said

“I love him much more than I should

I helped him when he lost his kin

Now, he walks away with a caustic grin!”

 

Little did the generous king know

The orphan woodcutter would grow

So arrogant as soon as he found gold

In the tree bark, just as the sage told

 

King loved the orphan lad a lot

So, the sage’s help he sought

Sage told the woodcutter that he foresees a gain

The king kept the gold to lessen his financial pain

 

Next day the king called for the lad

And told him in a tone that’s sad

“You stole the treasure, my dear son

I am sorry that you have to be imprisoned”

 

Woodcutter realized the mistake he had done

Understood the entire story and its pun

Wealth and fame may make us glow

But pride will surely push us low!

 

 

( A poem that I wrote in school )

Grain of Sand

Cold were my feet in the flowing water

As I stepped in from the banks

Held his hand really tight

With a smile and look of thanks.

The sand under my feet

Was once very different

A different form, a different shape

Beaten, smoothed, swept, bent

Traveled centuries through terrains

Seen happy summers and wept in rains

Was now here to tickle my feet

I smiled, accepting the greet.

Wonder if the sand, that one grain

Likes being where it is now

Is it happy under water or in pain?

Where it is heading and how?

Where ever it goes with the flow

It brings warmth to many a heart

Even if its a single grain

Of a meter, a millionth part

Heart

It feels heavy and immediately light

My heart is so confused!

It beats fast but still feels weak

I said “calm” – it refused!

Why is it that heart

is so disconnected from the brain?

You try to run away

But it still runs towards pain!

I know it’s hard for the heart

It has too much weight,

So many people running around in it,

No time for ache to abate.

Hearts can handle so much -

Ups and downs, like a sinus wave

No wonder it’s relied upon

No wonder, for it, people crave.