SIGNATURE STANCE

A melancholy of a familiar tale, Stomping the castle of the dream, Behold the face of every girl, The eve hood born with a curse alike… The wedding bells knock the door, And here goes the knitting of the dream, The fuss and roar of a little mind, The tint of shades to the ring of a glass, Pick and drop for the choice is vast, Says the mind of an edgy girl, For the dreams weaved is to grow, And for once will be the moment… Tone of lilac of a long loved tulip, And the quarts of string melt melody into air, A step await a fresh phase, As the carpet lead her to the stage… A drop of tear in the place of curve, And the hush-hush not to be heard, The lilacs crushed on the floor, And the empty seats on the dome, The silence before the consent, And the pause after the ‘I do’, A flash evoking the staleness of soul, Leaves the bride with the broken castle of her dreams... 

Out… Out again… a leap… rise... escape… and into the veil of goodness merge the shade of the wicked one after the other... Uninterrupted … Finally revealing the dread of gods thereby poisoning the innocent dumb hearts on earth… and thus unfolding the mysterious tale of the Pandora box. Nevertheless there lies a last boon of solace for the beauty that set open the jar of mystery… challenging the doom yet to come... HOPE ! Leaving us to come up with a pack of keys… to untangle the puzzle of secrecy making it best of all than mere realism. And so the last unleashed drop of goodness brings back the gone fancy of kids… all set to listen to yet another fable… “The soul that has conceived one wickedness can nurse no good thereafter “... This has been the watchword of life for many of my friends who held high the notions of destruction for this sinking world of corrupt leaders, critics and sadists – we call them the Pandora horns. As not everyone is capable of masking the worst curse of

Sensing the stench of a nasty eve, I sit like a corpse, Stiff and cold Gazing outside to see the charm of nature My mind hard and frozen from inside… One fine morning it was, When the deadliest news reached my ears, Of a girl who got brutally raped, By heartless minds on earth… Miles apart were we, Attached to in no phase of life Knowing little of her self I spare a thought for the demise… Feeling close to her Being a woman, the only cause… A rain drop fall on me, And the drizzle shook me from the thoughts. The pain of helplessness so potent, I wish to cry aloud… But fearing the human world Even tears loath to come down… Being taught to live as the ordinary, At the feet of men for all the time, Sacrifices well thought-out as innate Getting nothing in return… The feminist in me rise swift with time, Craving to question the evils For why pleasure for seconds take a life? Seeing myself in her position, As the sole breadwinner of a family… I could perhaps im

Isn’t it interesting that we are one such species capable of creating a tornado of thoughts in a jiffy? Weaving a chain of memories surrounded by a number of ideas, though we never think deep on each of it, its amazing how a thought takes us into another and then to the other… finally dispersing peace of mind. Even now while reading this write up, it wouldn’t be easy to focus on a topic for the words totally different from one another urge you to follow their world. And to me, this is one such freedom even the under – privileged, poor, rich, black, whitish… people from all walks of life get to enjoy. The only thing not to be judged by the society, free of all rules nevertheless uncontrollable. Else even dreams lie in the foot of the so called norms built by us. How easy would it be to live life if we learn not to regret anything that brings a smile, and not blindly follow what is given to understand? Over estimation is indeed a very dangerous flaw as is said by higher minds on

A Gaze so restless at the corners of eye, An edgy hunt for a regret that lie, The buried calls of time that fly, And a scar that lie so new as dew... Seeking the heat of love in vain, For the awful bit of guilt that lurk, And a name engraved so new, As a stone welded on a flame.. 

There were things I wish I could replay a million times in my head…   and amidst them lays a beautiful memory of an awfully serene bond stuck in the pages of yesterday. Alike the familiar theme in all the ‘offbeat cheesy bollywood films’ ,  it unfolded a hundred levels of drama followed by the antagonist shrugging her shoulder and tossing her head with a disdain smile and words of fury on her lips.. “We had a fine run” being the final words of concern for the devastated young lady portraying the parallel lead in the mere tale of life… And so the whole story meets a tragic end. And is to remain in those rusted turns of life for things never happen the same way twice as is the hearsay... I don’t even know where to begin or maybe bad stories are better kept untold but the fakeness in every creation of god urges me to pray for the sky to get crumbled over the head in haste. Although there are some things that I can never get back and people who will never be sorry, the vitality of a

The tooth fairy once for me was of immense fascination...                                                                          The gone pearly whites stirring up a subtle selfishness of getting a new penny out of the fairy shire! The Easter bunny and the golden egg favors excited me even more for secrets lived before eyes and at all there was never a second call from within. The closed mind hardly greets the wonders now...   the wet eyelids and the hugged pillows thereby switching the tiny world! They say,”oh! Well, you will just have to learn it the hard way “... But the problem lies nowhere near to complexities of time...  it is the voice of the soul creating charisma and crushing dreams at the same time... And it is then that a mere wish for locking up the heart comes up,  couldn't  I use it when I want to?!  Or maybe wrap up the secrets of mind, tie it to a balloon and let it fly away?   The poor little feelings of mine stepped over...  how can one not fume over the