YOU ARE THE LIGHT AT THE END OF THE TUNNEL

(A gratitude poem for all doctors and the medical fraternity)

When the storm hit the coast,

your kind hands cupped the dangerous waters diligently, patiently casting them away, day after day.

The wild pandemic storm did not cease  even then, knowing there were white coat clad commanders ready to save the shore from putting weapons down.

The vulnerable ones lost the battle.

Innocence stopped breathing.

The human scenario changed from bad to worse.

Lost lives could not be reclaimed.

But the sick, the downtrodden, the confused, the helpless were saved again and again by those generous souls, warriors of today's kalyug.

Indebted to you for life for the love that you have perceived in each one of us.

Grateful to you for reaching out when you yourself were at the receiving end putting self and family to risk.

Thank you for keeping alive the light at the end of the tunnel!

NaPoWriMo Day 5: Weather Beaten But Not Out

 

 

Beckoning me to come to him

he sent invisible vibes

the wind could hear

and, of course, Me.

 

We had been friends, ages

ago, but moments of business

mostly, living mundane lives

for common day survival.

 

We had lived existence, racing

at will, not pausing to reflect,

we moved on, memories brushed aside,

weather-beaten emotions cast away.

 

On another note, maybe, ignored

the friend hiding within us

forgotten for long, down but not out -

my hope for a recharged friendship.

 

What had gone was not going to come back

A loss in time yes, but the sapling just withered.

The tree could still grow.

The bridge could make us meet.

 

So, I am accepting his vibes, invisible or not.

Flying to meet him despite having fought.

Interested we both are in taking the walk together.

Worried no longer of animosity in weather.

Prompt from https://www.napowrimo.net/day-five-8/: Using a favourite poem to form your own poem using The alphabet of each line and writing that many verses as in the chosen poem. My poem is Emily Dickinson's Because I Could Not Stop For Death.

 

 

 

 

NaPoWriMo 21: Day 3: Bamboozling Day

 

Juggling dreams keep me

clear headed, a day waiting

to be conquered, denying

me the chance to cast a challenge

and maybe, win?

 

Claustrophobic vibes threaten

my hazy reflections, forcing me

to think ahead, not pause in

lethargic rendering of a note gone haywire!

Cheat codes hoodwink my system,

 I live life on coding terms,

less on perception, more on deception

as if knotting myself in the embrace of a python!

 

NaPoWriMo21 DAY 2: SOUL APPROVED ROUTE

 

Fuelled by father’s dreams for me,

I galloped like a horse unbridled

rushing, lunging towards a goal

I knew nothing about.

 

New landscapes colored my horizon.

Stranger perceptions forced through

my measly existence, still I carried on

pausing but never actually reflecting,

 

to wonder why I was taking a route

I was not passionate about, why not

allow my aspirations to take wings

and fly towards the heavens that let you be

 

yourself, praying for a divine message,

I tripped, faltering in the race to win,

I stumbled on the path I recognized as mine,

an unlevelled track that my soul approved as fine.

 

Prompt: Robert Frost’s “The Road Not Taken 

NEW HORIZONS : NaPoWriMo: Day 1

 

Clusters of scorching dust

wedge into the interiors of my mind

letting lose lava that colors my world red

brightening the ambiance that trumpets

 into new horizons, galaxies flowing

into my universe, transforming bland into bold,

limp into lively, colours spraying to form shapes

of the unknown, darkness sprouting up

silhouettes of a psyche, I didn’t know

existed, moulding eyes that penetrate into my soul

connecting into cultures I absorb into the old,

uneven paths of my past widening into a world

of joy fulfilling voids left behind by orphaned memories.

Prompt: 

Sun Ra Arkestra - Seductive Fantasy (A Chad Van Gaalen animation)

An Early Bird Prompt - A Memory from Beyond

 

Covered from head to toe.

Of a different culture though.

And yet, you seem as if  someone I knew

from a land filled with flowers and dew.

Why do you seem to call out to me

even though unknown, inviting me for tea

when all I would desire is your presence

in private, a friend, a lover, would take make sense?

The burning lamp sends messages via your silhouette.

I receive the coded love hidden, true I bet.

Meet we cannot as of now

I promise, we will get together someday, somehow!

(early bird prompt from https://www.napowrimo.net/ for the April month of poetry taken from the  Fujiwara no Teika (1162-1241))

Don't you dare!

Picture credit: Aliyah Jamous

For every tear she made you shed

I'll see to it that she is consequentially fed!

For every sob that ruffled you

I shall make her taste venomous dew!

I can be the most submissive woman on earth.

But, when it comes to my loved one I can make you eat dirt from hearth.

Restless nights he has spent.

You too will toss and turn, feel the dent.

Hey! Girl. Don't do to another what you would not want for your own son.

You will be a mother someday. Don't jump the gun.

The Almighty gave him freedom to love, not cry.

Remember, we all have to face the Creator when we die.

Your day will come too.

So, stay away. Or be ready to sip sour burning stew.

Don't be an abuse to the woman race.

Reform yourself. Don't become a disgusting disgrace!

Open Spaces. Closed Barriers

The space in your mind that prided itself for its open-mindedness is clogged now 

refusing to allow entry to ones who were once your very own, who still are 

but are stopped by your bar

which you planted in cement out of nowhere,

here, there, everywhere!

Now, when I want to reach out, you make your relaxed body erect,

your jaw muscles begin their restless workout again

and I know then, that you just closed the gates of your mind again.

Does it make any difference that there is someone else in your life?

Our relationship was unconditional,

then, why the stale barriers that pretend to be firm, wanting me no way near your thoughts.

I am no stealer of reflections or emotions.

And yet, you demand your share of space after years of bonding.

How was I to know those little tantrums of 'no space at home', 'I need my privacy' were only indications of the coming storm.

Now, I fret and fume while you make plans for a future with someone else.

I am willing to walk the entire distance to calm your stressed nerves and listless mind

if only you permit me to do so.

Until then, I shall wait in hope 

like you do.

Sad, your hope and mine no longer merge.

*published in the poetry ezine poetryparlour.com

Kalaivaani

We played hopscotch on the narrow street outside our houses.

I visited her typical Brahmin household to watch old Hindi movies on her then-in-vogue black and white television set

while her soft spoken pirate eyed mother made some strong coffee, the smell making me wonder in my little mind whether her husband left her because the coffee burnt her eye!

Exchanging notes when we were sick, we were together by default, not by intention.

Less in thought more in deed.

Less in emotion more in ease.

No wonder miss we did not one another when I moved away from the city while she dabbled in newer friends, fun and feasts.

Parted as kids, somewhere in the abyss of my nostalgic mind I still hoped to bond with a friend from my past.

Somewhere, I longed for that little pearl to join back in the broken string of childhood friendship.

I saw her again, grown but still looking the same scrawny girl. I lunged to hug her. She pushed me away.

"I have rich friends now. Not you."

Crestfallen, I realised why Papa bought that EC Tv.

*published in the poetry ezine, poetryparlour.com