A Sunny Story

The sun and I have a tale to tell,
He wakes me up with a kiss on the cheek,
Prying my eyes open with his glorious shine,
He twirls the blinds,
And the shadows trickle and tickle,
Blissful mornings,
A romantic honeymoon.

Day Progressed, Life did too.
Warmth turned into scorch;
Parched throats and grimy faces,
Burnt skin and spinning heads,
Helpless, I, Longed for a shade.

As dusk approached,
The heat subsided;
Not to be rekindled,
To the all consuming heat,
Of passionate nights;

But to be doused,
Like singed coal,
With the gut wrenching smell,
Of unquenched dreams.

The sky changed colours,
A mirror of my eyes,
Scarlet crimson vermilion black.

Long shadows,
a prelude to
the impending nights.
As the sun set in my life.

The sun and I,
Have a tale to tell.

The Lie

He lies every night, by me;

I look into his bleak, unflattering eyes,

When he confesses his love to me.

I know that it is untrue, but want to believe otherwise.

 

I feel him slip away,

When I hold him tight,

I see him stumble in the way,

In the bright daylight.

 

I feel the coldness,

When he makes love,

I hug him and feel him tighten,

Like a stifled dove.

 

I wish he lied to me,

And I feel sorry for him,

As sad as it may be,

He is living a lie himself.

 

I lay there staring at the ceiling,

Where the fan rotated like the wheel of a cart.

Knowing fully, that I am the one in his arms,

But I m not, and cannot replace the one in his heart.

 

All Over Again

The first days are bliss,

Moments of elation, bursts of love,

Like when a new life,

Blossoms inside you.

 

Kith and kin shower blessings,

And congratulate,

And the couple smiles,

 Content, ecstatic.

 

Then start the risky days,

After the honeymoon curtain falls,

With bumps and kicks,

Just like when the baby grows.

 

Childbirth is agony,

Yet the baby’s first cry,

Lets you forget it all.

Similarly, with all the ups and downs,

Your smile, at the end,

Makes everything worth it.

 

Making me want to go over it,

Over all the flinching pain and bouts of elation,

All over again,

All over again.

Your Eyes

 

Eyes were just,

A medium to see,

Until I saw you,

Looking at me.

 

I was sucked in,

Like into a black hole

Into a deep abyss,

I was consumed whole.

 

Every time our eyes met,

My heart skips a beat

Tugging at my heart,

Filling me with heat.

 

The more I try to explore the mesmerizing depths,

The deeper I fall,

And the more I search for answers,

The more I get lost,enthralled.

 

I can feel the longing,

Never do you cease to amaze,

Your magnetic gaze,

I stutter in its purple haze

The Coffin Maker

He lived with his son,
He was a businessman,
traded with death.
He was a coffin-maker.

He danced with joy,
With every death.
It brought him happiness,
And his daily bread.

He saved every penny ,
For his only son,
Innocent and bright,
Like the morning sun.

A fine morning,
the church bell rang thrice,
A death, he thought.
Smiled, happily.

He returned home,
Humming a tune.
Crowds were swarming,
In his courtyard.

He saw an innocent face
Clad in white ,
cold as ice
which knew no vice.

He made coffins to earn a living,
And the last one he made,
Was for his reason to live.
Who lay asleep, never to wake up.

Vermilion Hues

 

It was the festival of colours,

And she stood there,

Shy, Pink, Radiant,

 A young bud,

Ready to blossom.

 

Little did she know,

Of those predator eyes,

Eyeing her, Seething with lust,

His face, a Vermilion Hue.

 

He smiled,

His dirty yellow teeth,

Gleaming.

 

She cried in vain,

Her voice muffled by the cacophony,

Of the oblivious crowd,

Cannabis-stricken.

 

She prayed to  all the known gods,

Doubting their existence.

Whom she had offered prayers and rituals,

Through Saffron Clad brokers.

 

The pain increased,

Her eyes filled with Black.

Waiting for it, to get over.

 

She crouched in the corner

Unable to move

There was a cold feeling,

Between her legs,

That too, a vermilion hue.

Image