Storm and Me

The storm has abated

Did what it can
Shattered my existence
Where do I begin?
How do I pick these pieces?
There is no ground
Under the feet
It’s all water
The roof over my head
Has blown off
Whatever I held close
Simply floated away
Some with water
Other with the wind
How do I get my life back?
How do I prove I am me?
How do I show?
Where my mud house stood?

It’s all gone
Either with water
Or with the wind
Did you hear howling winds?
Did you see the waves rise?
Those uprooted trees?
My uprooted life?
No, you wouldn’t notice
You were all locked in
Blind and deaf
Till they cleared it all
There is no sign left
Of howling winds
Of broken homes
Of my lost past
I too ask
Am I me?

amphan #cycloneamphan

Spin

What kind of a spin is it?
What goes around, does come around
Yet, its never the same!

Laws teach nothing is lost
Yet, much cannot be retrieved
The top is also below
A walk on the mobius strip

In a world so self-similar
Nothing is familiar
For – What is, is never,
What really it is!

What we know, is actually,
Only the depth of the unknown
And that bond also decides the drift

Stuck on a blue planet in a vast abyss
Where war literally is sold as peace
I wonder,
What kind of a spin is it?

The Blue Door

There is a blue door at end of the road. People say it’s the door to the happiness.  One can hear laughter and songs, but no one is ever seen crossing the threshold. Neighborhood believes that all the peace and happiness has got locked behind the blue door. No one knows who has locked all the joy away but the sadness and anger that is left behind is quite palpable.

As one walks down the road, one can hear screams of the locked lunatic sibling coming from an attic of one house. They say he lost his mind over a girl who was forced to marry someone from her clan. From another house one can hear heart rending lament of a mother whose only child has gone missing. A misogynist cop rants and screams in the other one, ordering his wife and children who tremble with fear. A young girl screams hysterically in the next one whenever she hears a footstep, “They are coming for me. Save me.”

The town has a church, a temple, synagogue and a mosque where prayers are held daily. Everyone prays for peace and prosperity that they think is locked elsewhere behind the Blue door. They all hold each other’s faith in doubt. They all live in constant fear and pride of their gods. They fight and attack each other relentlessly. It feels as though they are compelling their gods to compete in a race to gain the highest glory and power of the land (just like they wanted the children to compete once upon a time). Sadly, they have managed to drive both gods and children away.

After prayers everyone returns to the little hell they have managed to create. The Blue door remains shut forever. In their fight, hatred and bigotry, the town has forgotten that the gods have left key to the door with them – the key that opens only when there is love and kinship.

Howling Winds

It was in the news

Cyclonic storm was on its way

They did what they could

To prevent the disaster

They monitored the eye and the tail

There it was circulating,

feeding on winds

And gathering momentum

It all seemed calm on the shores

Till the waves began to move faster

It came closer,

Sounds of the howling winds

Made it all real

Everyone knew

All preparations were made

All estimates looked good

But there was no way to assess

The damage it did

Young ones quivered in fear

Homeless knew they will be

Unaccounted ones

Lonely man walked on the street

Unaware of the perils

No one had told him to be safe

He took shelter under the very tree

That crushed him minutes later

Howling winds

Harbingers of death

Preyed on lonely, helpless

And homeless

Farmers lamented as

Entire harvest got washed away

No one realised

Storm was our harvest

By feeding Earth, wind and seas

Our anger, disgust, greed,

wastes, pollutants and hatred

Cyclonic storm just churned it all.around

And returned what we had reaped

With anger and vengeance

Winds, earth and sea turned hostile

Howling winds perhaps were warning us –

“Don’t be a bully

It all can all boomerang very badly!! “

Silence and the Darkness

When silence becomes deafening

And the words hide in the dark

Slowing erasing history

I try to figure out their forms

Or meaning or language

Nothing emerges

It’s a dark dense space

Nothing is visible

Nor is audible

I wait

Maybe words are being born

Maybe a new reality is taking a form

What if it’s a monster that’s in the making?

What if the silence is made of inaudible screams?

As the world looks away in faith

Blinded by the festive lights

I will hang on to my doubts

I shall still try to listen to sounds of silence

And try to peer into dark abyss

With or without hope

Jump

Unable to find answers

Unable to bear the questions

Acutely aware

Of all closed doors

And humiliations

And all silences

She decided to jump

As she walked along the edge

Too many thoughts

Crowded her mind

She wanted to cut loose

From the past

From the present

The questions

The helplessness

The despair

Her luckless and

Loveless life

When no one pays heed

When life is cruel

What’s the point?

What’s the point?

On and on

The thoughts fogged her mind

Tears blinded her vision

Suddenly a stranger stopped her

“Please take one bunch please.

I haven’t eaten whole day”

A blur of bunch of yellow roses

Were staring at her face

Prodding her was

Another voice of despair

Carrying a bunch of bloom

What an irony!!

She paid the boy

And watched the train go by

She brought home

The yellow flowers.

She wondered…

There is a point maybe…

There are people maybe…

There are doors maybe…

There are paths maybe…

There is a future maybe…

That day she didn’t jump

But took a leap of faith instead!