Bound

I asked my mother if I could fly,
She said that the sky will scorch your lungs and wings dry

I asked my father if I could walk,
He said that the earth will bleed you just to humor its rocks

I asked my brother if I could swim,
He said that the sea will drown you and this despicable will

I asked my sister if I could dream,
She said that those will corrupt your soul beyond belief

So I sat in my little nest for long
Watched the night turn day and day turn night like a record

One day my branch squeaked and my nest shattered,
For the first time I look around to see all of them unfettered

I then tried to fly and I tried harder to swim,
In tears, I tried to walk or only dream something

But I failed each time, my spirit was long shackled,
In the end, I realized – my time to leave was now ashen

Picture credits

I Dream of Snowflakes

Its twilight, hushed and cold
Sheathed in swathes of white snow
Atop the hill, the flakes are silver and bold,
Their fall, neither hurried nor slow,

Very slightly ruffles the sledging marks,
And footsteps, that start
Where Deodars are a lovely dark,
Their covered furs lend a contrast

To a quaint wooden home,
Whose charming old windows are warm and yellow
A beautiful deep brown, a dream lone
Deep seeded in a foggy white mellow

Do you know?

Do you know how I feel when I wake up to a crystal blue, with a tinge of orange that is just making its way through?
Or when I sleep late at night, fumbling through my thoughts,
Scribbling random pieces of jigsaw on my bedroom wall.
Do you know how I love the aroma of coffee when I enter that book café,
And how I want to curl up in a corner and watch rain pour over that glass pane.
Do you know I still love comics? Joker, Batman, DC, and how they charm me?
Do you know how much I love to explore the nature, in all its beauty, its intricacy?
And its benign simplicity?
Do you how I love to finish that novel and ponder over its imagery again and again? Did I tell, did I tell you books were truly my best friends?
Let’s be friends, you and I. Let’s get to know me and know you?
Draw those parallels and sort these delicacies.
Let’s create beautiful memories.

Impervious Thee?

Tick-tick-tick-tick.
A life lives
Memories shape
Which thy immolate
As if all worthless castaways
I’m made to look through a veil.

But ‘twas my life
Couldn’t thy fathom?
None had a right
How could thou take it away?
Make me plead,
Forcibly, make me pray?

Blood Stained Child

Sparkling ebony water, gushing under a dilapidated bridge

A small shape, silhouetted against the moonlight

Almost invisible

Staring into the starless sky

Leaning against the edge

That child’s figure, looking astray

Wandering so deep down,

With fingers curled around something far away.

 

Holding his mother’s hand, hopping down a street,

New shoes and a candy

That figure was a priceless possession,

A mother’s beloved child.

Unscathed, shielded from life’s cries

Living in an Utopian world created by her,

While she herself braved the reality’s harsh sunlight.

 

Water surged with fervor below,

The rest of the night lay bare,

Standing there, he held the feeble ropes

Like a caged soul,

The vacuous gaze penetrating the sky.

Beckoning, it seemed, someone with all his little might.

 

She placed her hand on his head,

Slightly ruffled his hairs,

Picked him up and fixed him under a loving stare.

Then it happened

The screeching brakes and the screams.

Knocked to the pavement he saw,

What no child should ever see,

He had his heart pierced with her shriek.

 

The water malevolent, it roared.

The senile bridge threatened to give in.

But the child unfazed,

Kept searching for someone far away,

Kept willing the clouds to give way.

While the lone moon shone,

Shone on his blooded Pokémon shirt

 

Spattered with blood,

Frozen in time, unable to close his eyes,

Her hand outstretched towards him,

Her pieced, blooded hand.

Lifeless eyes riveted to him,

With a tinge of horror that hadn’t yet left

 

That day he was reborn,

Reborn in blood he was,

The blood stained child.

 

Years passed, he grew

But that child in him never left that gaze,

A loving gaze that turned lifeless in a moment,

Life’s ironic ways!

He never grew out of that moment,

He’s been stuck on that bridge ever since,

Unable to accept, unable to deny

A recluse to his own mind.

 

Moonlight glistened on his cheek,

Flowing down, like a deep scar

On the innocence beneath his pallor,

It fell,

Disappearing in reveling water below,

A drop of sliver consumed by an unrelenting darkness.