The Droplet...

She falls out of the morning sky

With thousands others… sparkling white…

She brings with her the misty chill

Washing away the scary night…

The morning’s still … eyes so blue…

Crunching memories … soothing few…

Finding refuge in your world so new…

Surrounded I stand among the droplets of dew…

The droplet I see gracefully descends …

Settling on a leaf so dead and dusty…

She makes her way through its brittle ribs…

Reviving the leaf, hit by times so gusty…

She slides, she dances …

Living a new morning, she happily prances …

Lost in the mist, I watch her closely …

Mischievous like a child … missing glances …

She gets to the edge and I know she is about to lose her grip …

But she seems not to care much of the end...

She’s at the leaf’s tip and is about to fall off…

A moment before she would disappear in the thirsty land…

And then I see what makes her die with a smile on her face …

The sparkle ... the rising sun puts in her soul makes her immortal…

My naïve self thinks she is set ablaze and will vanish in no time…

But I am wrong and suddenly enlightened by the light that emerges out of her tiny existence …

She departs with a brave heart … lighting up my eye with her radiance….

Reason ...

Leaving behind sweet moments is difficult.

It is like, leaving behind  a part of life mercilessly.

And trying to make up one’s mind not to even think about it.

But what when one wants to leave behind sweet-memories-turned-bitter-for-no-reason?

Easy? Not at all!

One moves around with a burden of mixed feelings.

Thinking of how and why it all went wrong.

Finds nothing.

Tries to think it through all over again. Still nothing.

Tired. Tries to sleep.

But cant.

Stares at the ceiling. Runs through the dark.

Finds and loses self over and over again!

Cries the heart out. Asks for answers.

No voices. Nothing.  Just silent pain...

Memories so bitter pinch the heart. Repeatedly.

Every day. Every Night. Every moment.

Then one fine day…

The tired body and mind find a reason.

A reason …to let go the heavy and useless bag of the bitter memories.

A reason to find the old strong self.

And to start a new life altogether.

The day she finds the reason. She finds it all.

Life goes on...

Words are not words anymore

Tears rained upon them and

Smudged them to poor ink blots.

All of them out of shape,

Just like someone’s life.

Difficult to be put into place.

But not very difficult to be shredded into pieces of paper,

And burnt down to ashes and forgotten.

These words too would disappear with the flames

Tears would reach the sky and would be seen no more.

And so...Life goes on…

Words decorate the paper again

Very lifelessly but yes they do.

Meaningless to some, for others not.

The ones worthy enough to understand

Would know in no time.

Others would rattle and call names.

And it would mean nothing to them.

But it doesn’t stop here.

Life goes on…

I am a dreamer…

I am myself always.

Is that why you aren’t here with me right now?

I was a dreamer.

My dreams were sweet and cute.

They had me and you in them.

Happy.

I am still a dreamer.

The dreams are not so sweet any longer.

They still have you and me in them.

Broken.

You were never a dreamer.

You envied my ability to dream.

Do you still envy me for the same?

The painted dreams of you and me

The colorful house and the gardens lush green

The winter, summer and spring

That was just…one of my dreams…

I am a dreamer.

I would dream till I breathe my last.

I have better people around me now.

Who know who I am and who I am not.

They make me strong.

Now I am a courageous dreamer.

The courageous dreamer now dreams

To fight wars and win.

To jump and reach the sky for the stars.

To pluck them and take them all.

And to give them away to all those

Who would want to smile again.

The Phoenix...

You walked in and then walked out of her life…

I suppose, you were following, the so called great Shakespearean theory of ‘The Entry and Exit’…

If that’s the inspiration behind your move,

Then I have a quick question for you…

If you can follow Shakespeare and what he said,

Why couldn’t you be like one of the heroes in great stories?

Bold, kind and courageous…For his people and for the love of his life?

Strong, faithful and fearless…and with the one who’s always right?

But, if you have not, in anyway, followed the Great Magician of Words we are talking about…

Then, I would shut my mouth and ask you to go to hell!

You hadn’t come for a stroll into the greens, had you?

To hum like the bee and breathe in the fresh air!

To smell the roses and chase the butterflies!

Instead…It all should have been a little more serious than just a wandering walk…

Not about boasting and just a pot of lies!

She didn’t need a helping hand…ever!

But she let you hold hers, coz there was this feeling…of …’love’…

In which she blindly kept climbing the hill with you.

In a way…making it simpler for you to push her down into the rocky valley …

But yeah...not easily…not so easily…

If you were thinking that she’d remain confined to the ditch of darkness,

Weeping and crying and calling your name,

Fearing the world and the feeling of shame,

Then …I’d ask you to re-think…

I’d ask you to go back and find who was lame!

She stood firm for you, fell for you,

Lived for you and was finally killed by you!

But remember…that it is not something that’s ended well …

The drama you created might have been over...but she hasn’t yet rung the bell!

You might not be wise enough to understand this, I know,

But I believe in spreading light wherever I go…

Burnt down to ashes...But would still be reborn...

The Phoenix doesn’t die...

It just inspires others to keep living the beautiful life over and over again...

she would rise from the ashes ...scarlet and golden…

Your hues will fade and you’d be broken…

Love cannot be built upon lies, my friend…

You should have decided on what you wanted, before it was taken…

Know that… the soft breeze that tickled your hair every evening,

Is now turning into a storm…

She’s still burning in the fire of love…

Not to keep you warm this time…but just to burn you down…

The Silence…

                Words rained…all day long …

                And the nights were spent weaving wordy nets…

                Words were bought and only words were sold…

                She always painted for him the stories untold…

                                The orange evenings sang for them …

                                She spoke and spoke again the same...

                                …but he loved to listen to it all…he said…

        It made his evenings turn lovely red…

                The silent flower…he let his bee hum…

                And she always got for him... the Words,

                Sweeter than the honey she gathered they were,

                The spring was full of her beautiful Words...

                                But…the autumn had to strike…

                                And the cold winds had to blow…

                                The flower had to fight the chill for her…

                                And the bee had to wait for the autumns to go…

                The winters so terrible and so long they seemed…

    But still the flower knew she would return for him…

    She would buzz the whole day…for me...he thought…

    She would sing to me the same old songs…

                But the bee … so lonely… had waited too long …

                Unbearable the speechlessness had been to her…

                She hadn't been like this … never in her life…

                The cold winters had killed all the blabber…

    She had been sitting at the window …

    Watching the snow and her stories melt away together…

    The Silence had taken over her so bad…

    She sometimes wondered whether her flower even cared…

                And the flower knew not why, he couldn’t see her anymore…

                He knew not why, he couldn’t hear her humming…

                He waited here and she waited far beyond…

                Silent nights stayed ...and the songs never dawned…