The watermelon rolled down
Splashed, when hit the stone;
Juice and flesh
Scattered all around.
Roads pleased
With showered droplets
Moments of pleasure, unexpected.
The little urchin ran to pick
Wary, yet take a bite
A treat it turned, unexpected.
And I stood there watching….
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Reflections
The wall in my bedroom
Turned dull with time;
The paints couldn’t hide
The otherwise styled but
Her now blemished skin.
The otherwise makeup-free but
Ensembles added to enhance;
The times spend in grooming
Exceptional on every ordinary day
I see myself, refreshed.
The mirror stood before still
Picturing us in reflections
Awakened by the awareness
Exceptional on this particular day
Her face I see, afresh.
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’.
Conquer
Door shut behind.
Ventured out in the dark
Far, further, and further away
Whispers heard no longer
Alone walked miles, and
Fear went away, ashamed.
Variety is the Spice of Life 