A House At Nowhere

 

It was dilapidated yet elegant, unnoticed by busy city dwellers except for my occasional glances. Loud parties used to gain neighbour’s ire in the past. The house’s solitude disturbed mine and grew monstrously.

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I couldn’t compartmentalize my egoistic self and called the local police station to suggest my paranoiac fears about the solitary house. Soon it became a news piece, an evening gossip and talk of the town and people came just to have a look at the house. And there rested my alter ego, sipping the green tea on a reclining chair enjoying the noisy chats of the neighbours.

When Mary Got Afraid

 Pregnant Mary and her husband wanted to escape the wretched war torn country which was led by a man of actions, but mostly brutal ones. The city was swarmed with vagabonds like them even though it was Christmas season. A plight from poverty to utopia. Her hopes slowly dwindled with time as the borders got shut. She hoped to get a boy who like her husband would risk his life to protect her dignity. She remembered her little sister who got raped and killed and frantically searched the night sky for another Star of David with tearful eyes.

Ode to Kiterunners

Oh my dear kite runners

Run away from the evil clutches

If you cannot, try to be a kite

To soar high enough to smite

Were you a child,. My dear

At least not for them, I fear.

The devil with wings cut down

Still makes the righteous mourn

All colours of the rainbow left

The rueful sky with acidic spate

Violet, Indigo, blue, and green

Stabbing yellow and orange

To make the red bleed.

Soar up high, little vagabond

To the blue skies and beyond

See how your purplish robe

Rains daredrops across the globe.

And let those kite runners gather

To fly their hopes farther

Glistening lines held tight

As sharp as sword of the knight

Snap away the Devilish thoughts

Finish the fear with fine garrotes

Come out of foolish grottoes

Of superstitions serving woes

Make a new Earth and sky

Dreams unbound to wing their ways

A shiny string of knowledge

Grounding firm to benevolence

Gunshots can't make spirit die

Nor the roses with their thorns

For the frightened birds fly high

And so can the kites in storms.

Celebrations

Before I slowly fade out in the horizons,

I wish to feel lighter and lighter

Till the weights fail to keep me down

To watch the earth from afar

A tiny blue dot from heavens above

Vast telescopes and eagle eyes

Failing to see the social quakes

Rearranging the jigsaw Earth to

Pangaean Motherland of the past

Lines of races and gender alike

Erased out of the country maps

Oh, dear, which form should I take hence?

A balloon, a rocket or rather space junk!

They all will drift away from the souls

I wish, hence, to be the flames of fire

Dancing to the tunes of its own

Rhythms set myself

Free from the reins of winds

I wish to be the clear water down the streams

Granting every vessel that holds me

The boon to retain their shapes to my whims

I wish to be the free and mighty wind

Sailing by the curves that I define

I wish to rise as the mystic sprit

Switching over forms of my choice

Spreading chillness down the spines

Which failed to stand upright

When the ME in my women got trotted down

Call it revenge or fury

Or as cries of agony 

Of echoes of the long past

Failing to die down after eons

But, you’re mistaken dear

For teardrops can’t quench flames of fire

Dancing deep down as in the earth’s womb

Rumbling and raging for centuries

Beneath the oceans, hills and valleys alike

As well as the frozen ice crowns of the poles

Meditating in fortitude for long

I wish hence once again

To set my own stage

The world has ever seen

To play the one act 

The world will fail to forget

Celebrating the ME with all of WOMEN