Monsoon Again

When hard luck n a fat chance build your way...
When it is like standing on a crater crust,
Which can spue fire any day,
You can predict
You can not commit
Better get carried to a destination
where it takes you today

A desperate urge to fly
A relentless heart to get high
Once it wanted a calm stay among shy leaves
Like waves of a restless sea,
My heart rattles and rambles this dusk.

The day I left your shadow.
I knew there would be no sunlight for me.
There is layer of dark clouds in the sky.
And the monsoon is back calling again at me

Identities and Shadows Behind

A part of the "Dear Lucky Agent" Contest on the GLA blog at www.guidetoliteraryagents.com/blog


"A child is not a poem,
A poem is not a child.
There is no either/or.
However."- Margret Atwood
(A canvas can lodge your subtle thoughts and ideas. But you need more than a canvas to reach here)

Just to introduce myself, I am not struggling with my identity, like many others. But there are a few things that do divide me. I don’t like taking the cover on my face, and colliding my face with the mask, to give impressions of me. Yet I take to conceal myself in various ways. I know there are things which are better left unsaid or suggested. And I leave the responsibilities to the subtle strokes of my paintings. Hope you like them.

A confident smile cutting the sides of her well formed lips.

Applause followed the long perfectionist’s speech. Being a successful artist in 40s, gave a power to Momita over her senses. Confidence sells the quality in you, and even the headstrong trust in yourself for that matter. Her dad called her paintings rogue and senseless, when she first started it at the age of 14 years. But she did prove a point in favour of her art, did she not? It was the 22nd painting exhibition she was holding and…

A Cracked Image

We identify ourselves in a mirror image. Find symmetry of our being, in the physical reflection that we see in the glass. Imagine your mirror broken by someone. And your rush to the clown mirrors (mind) of a circus (world)… where reflections (ideas and beliefs) change every moment…Where would you find yourself in this screening? Fit into someone else’s frame?


Worst you want to do with someone?
Crack his/her image.
Hurl a stone and crack it.
Let go, and ask people to mend it.
Go and try to identify with a carnival mirror,
And find ornaments in the corners.
An Adonis. An Aphrodite.
Hide a darkness of a face in the illuminated Mirror.
Rush to a Spherical Mirror!
And find symmetry in anatomy.
Hide a short height.
Hide a flat size!

Find a flat mirror,
and move far from the virtual.

A refraction of you reflections.
Reflection of the clouds of other's vapours……

Ageless?
Frame yourself in the silver frame of time.
Surround with flowers around with beauteous rounds.
Fit it in the silver frame of your like….
A smile caught just in time
And immortalize the pulchritude.

My Virtuous Mirror

As I looked into the mirror,
It looked back at me in silence.
As i tried hard to see the things,
It beautifully revealed to me
I asked if I were beautiful
It said it was harder to find a little blemish in my flawless beauty..
I asked if I were virtuous enough
It said I was an angel
I asked if I were happy
It cracked somewhere and said I was not
I asked if I should be happy
It grew on the corners and coronated me
I was wondering and thinking to myself
I was self absorbed
Whatever I did, it was cherishing me in itself
As I adorned myself,
It was constantly taking care of me
Always around me
My lover mirror looking at me..
I shed silent tears as his love swelled in me and brimmed over
It answered everything I asked about myself
It knew how I felt all the while..
It helped me mend my broken pieces
It created in me where I was developing
My virtuous mirror,
Saw me as a princess
He made a princess of me....