May I keep Me?

It all began with those burning bright,

New, of course, all of their own kind,

Of curiosity, of hardships, of slumbery delight,

Alive and Living, THAT’s just allright.

Of age as they came, with ounce of mind,

'Test and Grade', it was time to determine

The 'grim-looking' ones then were considered ‘prime’

Phoo they blew themselves off

And rushed to beg that light,

Some did lit and some in pursuit died,

Those who lit were weak and unsatisfied,

Knowing this wasn’t them, in fear they lived all their life

Then they hailed the one,

Who had fought numerous fights,

Hardly worth it, mostly to please his spite,

So again they blew themselves and rushed to beg his light,

He challenged them for a rough one-on-one fight.

They took tough lessons in their ‘un-light’,

Worked hard tirelessly day and night,

And slowly it formed a pyramid, underground to huge height

Of graded dark morons, they themselves despised.

Still they blow themselves, yeah still. Despite,

To be that ‘someone’

That ‘someone’ others like.

So I sit on my knees,

I pray you the Great Almighty thee,

May I just please, keep this original me?

Naut, Astronaut.

I am an astronaut,

I float, talk but walk not,

Come on, nothing to be afraid of,

Coz you are with this astronaut.

Trust your imagination,

Lets hop on an excursion,

With nails and hammers, as needed

Oh yeah that, hold them with compassion.

No air to breathe?

well that is something to deal,

improvise, yes, we will,

Haven't you ever met a gypsy?

Black color we dont appriciate,

Coz its so blacky and around everywhere,

Grab on Orange, Yellow or Green,

Grey? ok if you can make it vanilla shade. 

Destinations are rather few,

Its the journey for which we bid adeiu,

Big RED Spaceships might lure you in,

Go on, you'll just loose a limb or two.

Don't forget your hammer and those nail,

You have to leave your mark, without fail,

And also to joint your parts lagging behind,

Doppler Effect might give you a rough trail.

So, we ready now?

Here comes through our bow,

Fear, we'll need, hold this egg,

Squashed it? and this is how you go.

 :]

Elder

He peeped in through the window. She was there. Delicate, dolce and docile.

Her white cotton dress hugged her tightly,

Her tears had drenched her as if a storm had exploded through her inside out.

Her eyes glowing red like the eclipsed sun. He went inside.

He saw her squeezing into a corner under the wooden table. Their eyes met.

She rushed out to him, puling herself with all the strength she could. 

Clung to him with the never-let-me-go desperation.

He had never felt so helpless ever. All he could do was run his smallish hands through her hair.

But even that little re-assuring gesture helped her breath deeper.

He pulled her along with him, through the vacant screeching corridor. His eyes wandering around searching for something, he knew what but there was something he felt he needed. Something that this little girl clinging to him needed. Something that was there all along, but not anymore. Something they never thought could be gone.

Now, they stood by this old dilapidated pillar, eyes stuck on that something just resting in the middle, wrapped in spotless white.  The boy was trying to control himself, when the girl let out a scream “Daaadii….”. It had so much pain, that it could wound him. Impulsively,  he was on his knees, he brought her closer, and started chanting “It’s all right, It’s alright….”

That which he wanted to believe so much but couldn’t yet he knew he could make her believe it. Everybody left one by one. But he was fixed on the spot. Her soft breath rhyming against his face and he just untiringly kept patting her, consoling her even though she was in deep slumber.

And for the first time ever, perhaps he realized he was the elder.

That what the rain did.

Ok Listen, It was Summer,

With days all dry and sundry,

But that part was all done for,

And it seemed it would soon start raining.

The clouds growing dark,

The trees were bubbling with high energy,

Leaves in an excited conversation,

And now it ‘was’ the umbrella of Mr. Chaterjee.

 

So this little boy, decides to hang on,

Well his home far far away, you see,

He sits under a tree,

Felt safe by its huge welcoming canopy.

He saw a flash and then heard the growling,

And some louder growling,

And a few more flashes,

And it finally started pouring.

Lifted in spirits,

He began dancing,

But he felt no pouring,

Just some kisses passing.

He looked around perplexed,

He heard delighted laughter,

He heard birds’ blissful singing,

But wasn’t even close to that quarter

 He stepped forward, a bit,

Towards the open ground,

He stretched out his hand, a bit,

Astonished by what he found,

A bit more, maybe, I should go,

Was going on in his thought,

And a flood of excuses released,

Scaring his little heart to step down.

“You’ll catch cold”

“Mum will scold”

“You’ll trip and fall”

“And everyone will laugh”

Indecisive he began to cry,

And then,

A gush of wind, bit like a drizzle,

Touched past him and made him now,

Ready to dance and be more than frizzle.

He ran out of the shade,

Like a spirit released from a cage,

He did fall and was laughed at,

Mum did scold, and “AAACHHIOOO” was his state.

But that what he felt,

“Euphoria”, I think, it’s said.

Turned him into that rain,

Free in spirit? Others can only guess.

Falling for the ‘little’

Falling for the small,

Falling for the little,

Waking up with a smile,

Fit as a fiddle.

Just a little more,

Goes the sea, ashore,

And does the magic charm,

Gifting a pearl to hold on.

And as the little bud,

Gets onto its work,

Then little by little,

Shall bloom the wonder.

Why won’t one fall?

Into the depth of little,

For all the 'little' that there is,

There can exist no riddle.

:)

HaUNtED?

By the roads not taken,

By the words not spoken,

By the wrongs tolerated,

And the dreams forsaken.

The little aches unhealed,

The cries left inside sealed,

The plausible happy smiles,

And the depths unreached.

By unexplored sands and lakes,

By untapped potential for fighting fate,

By unstreched edges,

And that last attempt not made.

 Its breaking little by little,

All that was fit as a fiddle,

And pilling up like mountains,

Of unsolved riddles.

Visiting now and again,

Like some uncharted train,

In the seldom trips of memory lane,

More often when it unexpectedly rained.

As this panorama drenches u through,

You’ll remember of the choosing you have to do,

So quickly hit the ‘stop’ and bid your adieu,

For waiting on that road is an adventure new.

But before you go,

This one thing, I implore, please do,

Forgive yourself take a deep breath,

And keep your heart close to you.

What is Missing?

What do you miss,

That something really deep down,

Was it the one which is lost,

Or something yet to be found.

The old creaky front door,

Or the dilapidated window sill,

Could it be the crayon colored scenery?

Of the sun rising between V-shapes of hill.

Or is it the homework,

Ready after you've sacrificed the sharp pencil,

And the inherited books you now own,

After a line of the smarter elder siblings.

But didn't you make peace,

With the past days, the bygones,

Didn't you promise yourself,

This ‘newbie’ something of your own.

That promise to go on,

Far, far into the wild, the unraveled

Choosing every time and always

That road the one ‘less traveled’.

But oh dear,

Midst these pathways,

In moving on and moving now,

You might end up reading,

“The Postmaster”, once again, somehow.

Its okay my friend, I guess,

To dive back into those times,

When eyes lit up with curiosity,

Guessing why the temple bell chimed.

When you’d show-off,

The new word you learnt in class,

Saying something on the dinner table,

That is completely off the brass.

Or…

Again now??

Okay!! I am coming back,

Picking up this text book of mine,

For there are mines to be explored,

And something new to determine.

And yes there are some

Untouched dreams to live

Adventures not yet dealt.

New steps ready to be tripped.

Tunes yet to be composed,

Music yet to be heard

Ink yet to be used,

Dances yet to be rehearsed.

New flowers yet to bloom,

There is a sun yet to rise,

One more night yet to come by,

Before I’ll need it to summarize.