Monthly Archives: November 2024

The riverKeeps flowing,Its waterHas no rest,From beingIn that state,But when that waterEmpties into a lake,Or the ocean,It learns,Almost at once,To cease motionThat carries it forward;Its movements then,Are confined within,The mellow ripple,Or the tumultuous wave –Neither ever,Progressing aheadFor miles on end. … Continue reading →

The train rattles hardAs it lurches forward,Everyone around herResponds,In one way or the other,But she sits there,In her seat by the window,The scenes outside,Not particularly captivating,Just not yet,Her eyes seem rooted,At a spot in the distance,Although her stareIs notably vacant. … Continue reading →

When music does notManage to soothe,The frayed nervesOf a soul so lost,That it knows not,How to regainA semblance of footing,On a jagged terrain,Of overwhelming pain –And nor does beauty,Or the pursuit,Of a beloved hobbyThat once fostered peace –Perhaps it is … Continue reading →

He lies there,On the middleOf a paved road,A broken heapOf bones,Covered by torn,Heavily bruised skin;The blood on his bodyHas crusted,It is no longer flowing,His eyes are shut tight,In unimaginable pain –Whether from the blowsThey rained inMercilessly,Or the horror,Of being caughtRed … Continue reading →

Some tears,Never flow;They come raging in,And then, abruptly stop,Right at the threshold,As if they know,That the breathOf fresh airThat awaits them,Is a death blow,In allowing the flow,They will let go,Of their identity,As they get buried,In a pillow of tissue,Or brutally … Continue reading →

A deep holeExists,Where onceThere was none,And within it,Apparently,An endless pit,Of a profound,And debilitatingComposition,Of shame,And grief,Or perhapsSomething else,It fumes,And churns,Like a witch’s potion,It neither drains,Nor runs out,Of effervescence,Occasionally,It does settle,But not enough,For the layingOf a bridgeAcross the chasmTo the other side. … Continue reading →

Each roomIn this dilapidated homeHas a story to tell –Its faded walls,With paint peeling off,Were once adorned,With letters, numbersAnd stick figure art,All of which,Came to life,Every now and then,In the throes,Of windless summer nights,Playing with the shadows,Cast by tiny fingers,Against … Continue reading →

At first they were,But mere whispers,Spoken in hushed tones,Wafting through the corridorsOn the wingsOf the unseasonal chill,Of the summer breeze. Not long thereafter,They gathered strength,Repeated as they were,By a few hundreds,So whilst they wereStill whispers,They were by nature,And by intent,Profoundly … Continue reading →