Strength ...

Do not accept my silence as my weakness!
Sitting quiet amongst screaming waves
I listen, I grow ….

Among a swarm of masks,
some ice cold and some smoldering,
mine gets disheveled and entangled, yet
I survive ….
I collect the strewn ashes of the canvas
that you burnt last night,
in my palm, nurturing them with my tear drop.
They become a colorful vibrant kaleidoscope and
I continue ….
I have worn a soothing drizzle
and a torrential bout of rain.
I have withered a desolate noon
and a fire tongued summer,
I await the wild storm of tomorrow, and
I hold on ….
The yesterday that troubled,
my book of errors that tortured,
are all my mentors now, lessons that I nurture.
They made the person behind this smile,
building every layer and texture of my psyche and
I learn ….
The pain that once scorched and burnt
is now a glowing amber.
The sand particle that entered
in between my oyster shell and
tormented my soul once
is now a precious pearl.
Among the inevitable and the constant, I change,
moving far ahead and likewise
I expand ….

I flow like a wild river and
blow like a passionate storm
accepting life on stride,
peeling off the sweaty and the clammy,
tiptoeing away from every greedy iron clasp,
forcing the scorching Sun to step over,
making room for a beautiful soothing azure dome,
my heart, a magenta balloon,
thrown up into the sky
away from the stench of civilization,
I will, I rise, I defeat.

A kiss

A kiss
that stopped the planets
in their orbits,
made the Moon come down
at your garden
to kiss the green leaves,
cajoled the Sun to yield
sunflower,
nourished a rainbow
hidden among
the broken clouds
and pacified the fatigued
forlorn Earth,
bringing down
a soothing carefree raindrop.

Jealosy ....

I wanted to be the pure one
with a mind sans any stain
or a wrinkle.
Then, one day,
beneath the peel
of the mind,
under the layers
of the soul It rises!
It rouses its tentacles,
all consuming, fretting and fuming,
sometimes a fiery volcano,
sometimes an acid rain,
stinging at times and hissing at other.
It has frightening molten lava eyes,
pale ugly grinding teeth,
eyes narrowed, head hammering,
nostrils burning, mouth clenching,
JEALOUSY!
you entered Into my life and
earlier, I was the wealthiest of all
but now a reduced beggar.

Negativities .....

Doubt, fear,
insecurities are like cockroaches.
The moment you open the lid,

they will scurry and scamper out

into the open like some long-hidden
filthy secrets.
They have the same
scaly flaking
appearance with a shrunken
withered skin, as they remain
hidden in the layers
of the mind for ages.
When you are cautious
and controlled,
they hide yet will linger
in every nook and corner
and browse each
cranny and crevice
of the mind, waiting,
moving their
antennae whisk stealthily.
And the moment
you are weary or rest your guard,
those negativities,
they will scuttle out
from every hidden space,
and each concealed crack,
like nasty smelly
and dark cockroaches
squirming, multiplying
and
invading your mind;

bringing forth death,

without the trouble of burial.

Self - esteem .....

Creeping, crawling, clumsy, caterpillar,
do never be sad or aching.
Let the world find you repulsive or revolting,
soon they will mend their ways,
for what you think an end,is in reality,
a colorful promise, a new beginning,
taking the wretched world
under your colorful wings!

Brown and furry, you hustle and hurry,
you are hairy and you walk helter-skelter.
Fuzzy and woozy, muzzy and sleazy,
sighing and sobbing, you brood and you ponder.
Away from the world you hide to bury yourself
far from human cruelty,
in a green mausoleum, spinning and yarning
in your lonely dejected corner.

Caterpillar! Be proud; a new day will soon dawn.
When life seems troubled and the night is too long,
when alone in your cocoon
you become abandoned and forlorn;
barely having a room to wag and wiggle,
none around to support if you wobble,
on that day be cheerful
at your excellent craftsmanship,
for you have churned and whirled such rich silk
that the humans are envious of your hardship.

And soon humankind that looked at you in distaste
will stare and adore your vibrant
embroidered flitter-flutter.
So, creeping crawling clumsy caterpillar,
store every heart-ache and save every tear,
there would be a rainbow
after the rain, do not fear.

What a caterpillar could do,
one day, I can achieve that too!
Someday, I would make the world
wonder at my skill and love me anew.
So what if I can't run fastest or swim the sea?
So what if I can't kick a ball or climb a tree?
Let me be myself, just let me be me.
So what if others want to criticize or disagree?
They don’t know what it takes to really be me!

My uninvited guest.

On a glowing sunny morning
in the after math
of a fresh bout of rain,
when the sunbeams fell like
jingling sequins
on the quivering
immaculate leaves,
he came and sat in my veranda,
mesmerizing me
with thrilling maneuvers.
With a sharp pointed beak
longer than his body,
a lemon yellow and
brown embroidered
fluffy cotton ball,
he transferred me
into a world of bliss
away from the
dull
drab
drudgery.
He played along,
rolling and unrolling,
hanging like a yo-yo,
tumbling and toppling,
rising and mounting,
managing a twig
in his pointed beak and
twittering with zest,
bringing forth a fist full of joy
all around,
enough to shake me off
from melancholy;
muttering soft soliloquies,
chattering and squealing,
oblivious to the
manipulation, vices of the humans.
On that glowing sunlit morning
he put back
the lost stars in my eyes
and the missing dew drop
in my smile.

Rain ...

When the falling rain
tiptoes on earth and
the drizzle cautiously
embraces the breeze and
kisses my lips mischievously;
when a sudden gust of wind
tosses my stubborn tendril
driving away the ringlets
away from my forehead,
I raise my face
toward the falling rain
I lose myself.

I smile at your query -
“Why are you women so obsessed with rain?”
I tenderly keep my poesy
beside your pillow
and let them whisper into your ears.
They tell you,
It’s not just the rain
but the fragrance of you!

You had worn this rainfall
and left it in my courtyard.
Its folds and fabric caressed you,
its creases
held you close,
cuddled you.
Its color still reflects your essence,
the imprint of your love
is still visible on its sleeves.
That’s why I wear it too;
to feel it all over me and
hear the resonance of your voice
in its melodious humming.
At times, it feels
a little tight near my chest
when I feel the tug of your hand
groping for me unconsciously in sleep.
The way you will rest your head
on my bosom, your eyes closed
in heavenly peace,
merges with the drops of the drizzle
that hover on my face,
taking me to eternal bliss.
The rainfall you wore
and left on my courtyard
is still vibrant and warm as life.

I do not know about other women
But for me, my love,
the rain is you
and I hear your melody
in its falling tune;
as if it is played by you
on your love – flute.

Now I wait alone for another rain to come
so that we can wear it together.