What Say?

The drilling work was in progress;

The sound, unbearable.

Unusual as it may sound,

My mind was drawn

To people from the past;

Rich, famous and the change-makers –

The contributors who shared the walls,

Painting shades to the landscape called History.

Often quoted on occasions,

They breathe through the medium offered

And exist in the seconds of our memory clock.

A drill into their lives happen frequently;

That sounds unbearable!

Dissected time and again

With none to clarify

Their privacy gets auctioned off

And their pains never felt, sincerely.

Wish, the dead ‘rest in peace’.


Published by Deeya Nambiar

I believe in taking every day as a learning phase, and exploring my writing skills. I have enjoyed the challenges as a journalist, content writer and college lecturer, and at the moment am living life analysing the extraordinary in the ordinary!

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