Month: June 2015

FOSSILS OF SAND

Moving through the wings of time,

Traversing its ways,

With its temporary permanancy,

And a slowly speedily pace,

Greeting the lives of water,

Both dangerous and pretty,

With hues and greys,

Granting them survival,

A supportive haven,

On planet blue.

The present becomes a past,

The past an epoch,

But your treading goes on,

With blue-green abrasives,

And the dead and living too,

Deeper you pave,

Greater you crave,

For the first and the last lives there,

From huge to micro.

Pretty your patience,

And stealthy footsteps,

Youthfully retired,

Moving untired,

Like an unpretentious old man,

With worldly reserves,

And protruding nerves,

Of beings and sea,

Just like life goes on…

FOSSILS OF SAND

THE LIVED AND THE LOVED

 

Lived are those,

Who still breath,

Whatever they be,

Happily living,

Or a despicable dummy.

But loved are those,

Who have people,

With hearts and roses,

And give them back,

But,

Combos are preferable,

Always…

The lived and the loved…

 the lived and the loved

They sit there,

With the doors of love,

Kept ajar,

In happiness and peace,

With the music,

Of tranquillity.

 

A disease,

Without side-effects,

Spreads through them,

Creating a sweet melody.

This disease,

Has borne it’s kids,

And the perfection,

Seems here,

Enjoyment there is,

That is clear.

 

A kind consideration,

Without any agitation.

They’re blessed,

By someone in the skies,

A heavenly prize,

A situation mesmerised,

What else is needed,

When love is breeded,

In the lived ones??

The lived and the loved…..

ABSTRACTIONS

ABSTRACTIONS

A globetrotter,

Was travelling,

In a vehicle.

Many people around her,

She had her music on,

In her device,

She could see other vehicles,

Around the one,

She was travelling in.

She could see some,

Peering at her,

And some,

Not even looking at her.

She knew,

She was no celebrity,

No filmstar,

No model,

But,

Just a mere passenger,

With some dreams,

In her innocent eyes.

She watched the traffic,

Watched traffic lights,

Watched the pavements,

Soiled with,

Various kinds of trash,

Ranging from,

Spitted tobacco,

To polythene bags,

To paper tit-bits,

And of course,

Feet,

Of various people,

walking there,

she knew,

she was just like them,

common,

a part of the crowd,

but, no,

she was uncommonly common.

She had a relationship,

With something,

That few only have,

It was her soul.

The man,

Watching her,

Inside the vehicle,

And smiling at her,

She couldn’t sense,

Why?

But,

She saw in him,

Her man,

Smiling at her,

Because,

He also smiles,

The same way,

And the music,

In her device,

Highlighted,

The situation.

In that chaotic traffic,

She had found her place,

In that couple,

Sitting in the car,

Holding hands,

And she almost stared,

at them,

to see,

it was,

she herself,

with that..guy,

she had previously seen,

in that man,

watching her,

and smiling at her.

Though,

The car moved,

But,

Her confabulation didn’t,

It was speedy too.

Next,

Came a flower vendor,

And she could see,

Her man,

Holding flowers for her,

In his hands,

The music,

Still played,

And highlighted,

Her fantasy,

She almost drew her hand,

To take those flowers,

But,

Then,

She saw an aunt,

In the vehicle,

In which she was,

Looking comically,

At her,

As if,

She had tasted tamarind,

But,

She drew her face,

The other side,

To control her laugh,

Which was coming,

Because,

It reminded her,

Of her old school teacher,

Who had same expressions.

Then,

There,

She could see,

An old man,

Walking,

Along the pavement,

He looked similar,

To her grandfather,

But she knew,

That was not he.

Then,

She saw,

Some men,

Laughing,

Amongst each other,

She didn’t know the reason,

But,

She was reminded,

Of her own laugh,

In front of her friends,

When they laughed,

At her laugh,

And not on the joke.

Then,

She saw,

An artificial puritan,

Having a can,

In his hand,

With some mustard oil,

And coins in it,

That,

Reminded her,

Of her childhood,

When she once,

Got so scared,

To see herself,

In oil.

Then,

There went on road,

A Merc,

Again,

With a couple,

Both,

Wearing sunglasses,

And,

the man driving,

at a fast pace.

She saw,

What she thought,

And she thought,

She saw,

And there she was,

Enjoying the AC,

In her black Merc,

with that same guy,

who,

she actually knew,

didn’t exist.

With a jet’s speed,

She opened her eyes,

To reality,

Her stop had come,

And she,

De boarded the bus,

Abstractions!!