Third sip and the taste of warmth

The paper cup I drank from

Was marked for the disgruntled ones.

It had a special brewed taste of stars and planets

Topped with whipped rainbow cream

And caramelized sprinkles for a little sugar rush.
On the third sip, I figured the forbidden mellow taste of the rum enveloped within –

I was served what I was not to be served.

But there at the corner of the cup was scribbled –

Forget the dos and don’ts

And get yourself a little warmth this stormy night.

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Snarled up lanes 

​My feet brought me back to the den of my formidable adversaries: 

Queer humans, machinery and snarled up lanes.

Indubitably, 

I was stuck in between torsos and arses,

Right there –

Some counted metres from my own bloody house.


I certainly cannot deny the festival of joy, 

But I also cannot let stupidity and callousness walk past me gainsaid. 


Incoming and outgoing wheels had flooded the street,

The living and the non living honking aloud shamelessly 

Inspite of the undeniable fact,

That we were all out of our brain and space. 

Frustration and sweat 

Roared it’s way out of my tinted lips, 

And the annoying loudspeakers atop

Cawed awfully,

Torturing my ears with substandard and unnerving voices 

Announcing meaningless deeds. 


My pretty eyes looked smudged,

And my sweet welcoming voice turned foul and curt.

I somehow managed to get to the stoop of my building… 

And as I unbolted the door –

I felt safe and alive,

Uninfected and screened from the crazy pandal hopping zombies running wild. 



The afternoon watch 

And yet again I am admiring the harbinger of thunderstorm in the sky,

Like colour smudged cotton balls 

Hanging from the unending inverted bowl above me. 

The mysterious shade of nothing and something –

That stage the magical orchestra of the wind. 

How beautiful everything looks with that painting behind,

As I lay here on my bed 

And gaze out on the flowering trees and the intangible wind dancing around.

The peak of the houses beading the street… 

The birds chirping outside and playing their usual afternoon games… 

I zoom in and out of the frame to observe the piece of art

Hanging right in front of my eyes,

Through the open door facing the veranda and beyond. 

Beautiful I say,

Beautiful. 

Solitude

A year ago, 

The noun Solitude sounded depressing to me 

And was a word I was afraid to confront. 

It’s amusing how we mature with time,

For after spending months alone without friends 

And money to fuel journeys and dates, 

I looked into the reflection in the mirror 

And found the answers to the questions I never asked. 

I befriended universe 

And universe befriended me. 

We sat together for hours alone

And sometimes my only comrade would  make it rain for my pleasure. 

And even before I could realise…

Solitude had became a blessing in disguise.

New roots entwined the worn-out loosened ones 

Some Flamished,

Some destroyed,

And solitude became the most essential necessity of my present life. 

House Of Cards

It was a house of cards I was living in for a while,

With perfected balance and sharp lines.

But the wind blew and it took away my home…

And yet again 

Thrashed on the ground

With tears pooling my eyes,

Wounded and disheartened 

I pulled myself up, 

And tried again

To build the only home I had. 

Again and again

Like in a circle, 

I would build my lovely home

Trying hard to balance, to grow stronger and wiser…

To attain what I need, 

But only to be fallen down to the ground 

Blown away by the mighty wind… 

Wounded,

Circling the whole damn thing again.

Sometimes I am tired, 

Misunderstood

Lost

Miserable  

And wounded at the same red spot each time. 

Sometimes I close my eyes and break down to tears,

Burning with excruciating pain and suffocation. 

I cry out loud –

As loud as I can,

Until I am quiet and calm…

Until I fall asleep exhausted and empty inside. 
“Keep Faith” 

The next Dawn I whisper to myself,
Walk back to the place of the fall

And cast about for the all the 52 cards,

And try to build my house of cards again. 

For this is all what I am destined to…

The wind will blow,

And yet again I will have to rise up to the dawn.

Turquoise delight 

This place I went to last night 

Brims with serenity and warmth, 

And undoubtedly it made the Satan in me admit, that

This place…

This gorgeously built cafe 

Indeed is a marvellous creation of art.

With a warm hued workshop and studio inside

It smells of fresh bread, hot coffee, chocolate and pies. 

Little heads peep out 

Through large wooden blinds,

While the mildly rich turquoise shade play with the fabrics and lines. 

Open mouthed with my eyes swaying all over the place… 

I gawked at each little element my eyes could cover in a single drive 

The beautiful and mesmerizing bohemian decor inside…

Made me fall in love with their redefined idea of fashion

And their garden in a fancy wooden box style. 

The rustic brick exposed Walls

And the tiny cushioned chairs to sit on,

Their adorable blue ceramic tables tops –

Are privileged to feel the warmth of the delicious foodgasms entwined. 

After reading menus chalked out in black boards 

With little flowers and shapes engraved all over,

We called in for some crispy bacons and sandwiches,

And steaming cups of coffee to wash down the plated chunky pile… 

My eyes travelled through the nooks and farthest far of this wonderland,

Breathed in the satisfying autumnal shades

And the enticing artistic displays…

Tangled in conversations and laughter 

I found myself savoring 

This out of the blue discovered

Magical shrine.

 
I wish I could show you why I am over icing the cake,

But spellbounded by the charm of this pretty little magical cafe –

I lived and relished the time I melted inside, 

And spent not a moment adjusting the camera for a stale piece of souvenir 

In form of an still intangible file. 

No, I couldn’t miss out a moment,

I couldn’t bear to miss anything falling under the golden light…

Such was the fascination of this place I found,

Down the shaded lane after twilight. 

Laces and strings 

That black lace lingerie aroused the coquettish blossoming of her skin to the boyfriend’s eyes,

His heart pounded in and out of his rib cage like animated handsomes stuck by cupid. 

Steam of sensuality gushed out of his ear turning him into a hungry beast,

And then happened things

That kept her intense glowing blush intact

All through the next day at work. 

Her mind, flooded with images and replays from the night

Processed them all over and over –

Each time making her feel like the lightest,

Beautiful, and the most satisfied maiden in the world.