Know Why The Caged Bird Sings!

A lot of Questions!

And I try walking backwards.

Fresh smile at the table,
Dressed for work,
Knots at the right place,
And you feel I slept sound.

And I try walking backwards.

No frown on my lips,
Greetings with a warm face,
Words sweet and tender,
And you feel I held up.

And I try walking backwards.

No tears from my eyes,
Nor twitching of the lashes,
Nor moistness at the corners,
And you feel I have not cried.

And I try walking backwards.

For you have not seen my wet eyes,
Nor faltering lips or spasmodic nights,
Caged am I still! You now know!
Know why the caged bird sings.

The Closing Bell

The mind gazed at the sky,
Both barren, blue and dry,
Not even a cloud out high,
Or a thought crossing by.

Been through such a time?
Eerily silent as a broken chime,
And the night in her hours prime
Weaving magic with her acts mime.

Just when the prologue was ’bout to end,
And the purity was ’bout to transcend,
A gust of wind had the feathers ruffled,
And, the act was enveloped in noises muffled.

The rough winds hissed in from the north,
And    dragged     strange     fears    forth
Like men concealed in the Trojan horse,
Unlocked the gates for emotions coarse

The soul wedged in the night yelled.
I,  like  a  stunned  soldier,  beheld
The rummage began taking its toll
As despair massacred the timid soul

With  the  epilogue  still  to  play,
And the actress distraught in the fray,
The waning moon escorted her through,
As she hid her face,  her discoloured hue.

*

The war was done.
I know not who won,
Who seized the stage
Emptiness or rage.

Feeling the Rain. Still.

Standing on the edge of the cliff.
As I stared at the far off horizon, I could
Feel the clouds lurking somewhere in the sky,
And feel the fleeting winds zip by.

All of a sudden, it started to pour.
Leisurely, and then gained pace,
I stood there, drenched in the rain,
Not willing to go, feeling inane.

The evening gradually rolled in,
Wrapping the earth in its gloomy veil.
I stood there, absorbing the last few rays
Piercing through the long drawn haze.

And I lay down on the ground,
Soaking my soul in the numbing sounds,
I lay there, with my awakened sense of touch.
Never have I enjoyed the shower so much.

Know not when I fell asleep
Know not when the morning broke
I woke up, with the sun staring at my face,
Shining vigorously with all its grace.

As I stood up, my dress dripping wet,
And turned to go back to my place, I could
Feel the clouds lurking somewhere in the sky,
And feel the fleeting winds zip by.

– A night dedicated to the rain Gods

Standing on the edge of the cliff.

As I stared at the far off horizon, I could

Feel the clouds lurking somewhere in the sky,

And feel the fleeting winds zip by.

All of a sudden, it started to pour.

Leisurely, and then gained pace,

I stood there, drenched in the rain,

Not willing to go, feeling inane.

The evening gradually rolled in,

Wrapping the earth in its gloomy veil.

I stood there, absorbing the last few rays

Piercing through the long drawn haze.

And I lay down on the ground,

Soaking my soul in the numbing sounds,

I lay there, with my awakened sense of touch.

Never have I enjoyed the shower so much.

Know not when I fell asleep

Know not when the day broke

I woke up, with the sun staring at my face,

Shining vigorously with all its grace.

As I stood up, my dress dripping wet,

And turned to go back to my place, I could

Feel the clouds lurking somewhere in the sky,

And feel the fleeting winds zip by.

A Moment For Them

Sweating, he toils in the sand,
Digging as hard as he can,
Have we looked at his worn-out hand?
Or, his jaded feet, did we scan?

The sun is up and rough,
But, without a word, he digs on,
What has made him so tough?
Or, what inner strength does he don?

Not much of age, maybe ten,
Sure, he is not digging for gold.
What is he looking for then?
Or, … has he just been sold!

As his master gives him a stare,
He digs on, fearful of a bash,
Is it out of his master’s scare?
Or, because of the day-end cash?

Slowly, the light gets dim,
And as the evening settles down,
He returns to his hut grim,
But happy that he fetched his crown.

As he places the earned pay
in his mother’s hand, he smiled,
For him, a nonchalant end to another day!
For us: “Who cares if he’s still a child!“

As if nothing happened…

Nothing is real and nothing to get hung about.

Its not the sun,
Its not the heat,
Its the ambition
Which is burning in it…

Its not the soft scene
Its not the shining sheen
Its the purity in it
Which makes it look just as green…

Photo Courtesy : Debaleena

Sustainability

I got a lot of feedback after I wrote the last post(here), stating how true it is that those that preach should start practicing too. For those new, it was an open letter to Sirji telling him that though his IDEA ads were good enough to inspire thoughts of sustainability in the masses, he should also pay attention to stuffs like book/movie launches or CD launches where a tremendous amount of paper work is used.

Anyways, however, a wierd thought popped into my mind yesterday. What actually does Sustainability mean, when it comes to Trees and Plants? Is it the use of natural products which can be recycled easily (which in turn leads to excess cutting of trees) or lesser use of products made from trees and plants and moving to other forms which can be easily disposed off without threatening Nature.

Here’s two pictures. Vote for the one you like:

EXHIBIT 1 ( Read the fine print! )

EXHIBIT 2 : Clay Cups

Some Posts and Prints

In continuing with my previous post, I am still trying to unclutter my mind, and making it more usable. However, the problem is that the Shift key is not working- so I am not able to do a Shift-Del. Whatever I am deleting from my mind, seems to stay there at the back of my mind in the Recycle Bin. Hence, till I am able to free my mind, here’s some pictures you can ponder over.

(Click to enlarge)

And, if you are still craving for more, do go through