Author: 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!

Frames

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photoframe

Frames on the wall

Four generations.

Great grandfather worked with the British

Grandfather witnessed the World War

And my father was born in pre-Independent India.

My brother and I heard their stories with awe;

History a wonder and life  unimaginable;

The times have changed since then.

Our next generation

Loves the frames on the walls.

*Previously Published: April 2014

Blue

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Blue

On an expectant full-moon night

The breezy evening light

 Leaving inhibitions on the shore

I dig my feet into the sand

Writing the words of hope in anticipation;

The distant roar of the tides

I hear with a shudder but

The waves come calmly –

Collective messenger in manifestation;

Gathering words, rinsing feet and

Depositing strange travellers

Living and dead to hope in anticipation;

The spreads of blue with no distinct line

Past, present and future a transcendental straight line

I devour spontaneity

Layers of washed sand visuals

The mystic sea, resplendent.

The Bead

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beads

The string snapped;

Beads scattered

And rolled around.

The released tension,

Unfolded;

A humble string,

Ordinary;

And a single bead,

Unpredictable

That hit the floor

Bounced, and jumped outside….

The street,

Bustling;

The window,

Unsuspecting;

The string,

Resilient.