Inertia


We’re always told to think before doing anything. If possible, think twice.

But what if we don’t even know what we’re going to do? How does one think about it?

Like when we’re nervous, blurting out words without even knowing what we’re about to say next.

Like the social animal who knows just the right words to strike up a conversation without even knowing you.

Like the high ranking official on a podium who reacts to emerging situations without prior preparation.

We’ve all been in these situations. It happens in speech, as it does with other forms of expression – the artist, musician, actor, and writer within us reaches out by bypassing the neurological highway and surprising us.

Here is one of those moments when my thumbs tapped away without my knowledge:

The world spins around
Nothing makes sense
Inertia worsens this hell.
Leave. Move
Before it’s too late
Or fall into your shell.

They say that the universe has a way of communicating with us. That the world sends messengers to guide us along the way.

Sometimes, the messanger is sitting right inside us.

Words


Street art
Street art in Darjeeling

Words;
They’re funny little creatures.

When you have no time
They’ll drive you crazy.

When you least expect them
They’ll dance in your mind.

You crave to indulge them
And promise them your time.

Only, when the moment arrives
They become hard to find!

Looking up


lookin_up
Looking straight up at one of the towers of the cable-stayed Naini bridge in Allahabad

We look up –
When we yearn for rain,
Or rays of sunshine
And for a silver lining.

We look up –
When we dream,
Or think of the struggle ahead,
And when we succeed.

We look up –
Whether for strength,
Or for hope,
And in glory.


To see what other people around the world are looking up to this week, head up to the Daily Post Weekly Photo Challenge.

Transition


From established comforts
To starting anew

From being a part of one family,
To belonging to two

From the yearly hop between two cities
To a traveling spree

From figuring out two cultures
To switching between three!

From the spoilt n lazy brat
To greater responsibility

From an individual
To managing a team and a family


The image featured above is of “Lovers Meet” – the confluence of the rivers Teesta and Rangeet. The viewpoint is located somewhere between Darjeeling and Gangtok.

Periwinkle


They fluttered their long eyelashes
She looked straight in my eyes.

They had their airs and whims
She had only basic needs.

They were of high stature, exotic even
She was simple and plain.

They lived in posh houses
She was happy with the streets.

They were liked by one and all
She chose to be with me.

Micropoetry


The world sees greatness,
But you hide and take cover.

Oh! You fickle stupid self,
Recognize thy power.

Originally written on 22 July on Twitter https://twitter.com/kasturika_r/status/623839340183969792?s=09


nanopoblano2015lightThis is post #7 in this year’s NaBloPoMo, or as Ra calls it Nano Poblano

NaBloPoMo = National Blog Posting Month = Thirty straight days of blogging

What’s your story?


You can lie all you want.
You can hide behind your mask.
You don’t need to tell me,
And I will not ask.

You may deny it,
And say all is fine.
But it’s written on your forehead,
Across every single line.

You must be patient,
Soldier on.
Let go of your worries,
It’s time to move on.
Explore the world,
Save your memories.
Be brave, be bold,
Tell the world
All your stories.


nanopoblano2015lightThis is post #4 in this year’s NaBloPoMo, or as Ra calls it Nano Poblano

NaBloPoMo = National Blog Posting Month = Thirty straight days of blogging

Thanks a bunch to all the cheering peppers who have been tweeting and liking posts across WordPress 🙂

WPC: Change


The life an times of pencils
Tall, clean and sharp, they come in shiny boxes.
We draw them out and display their art.

We put them in denim pockets, in rusty boxes and in dusty pouches.
We wear them down and peel them out.

Misplaced, handed over, forgotten, replaced – it’s of no relevance.
They have ensured that they have made their mark.


These pencils have been my silent companions for several years now. A few weeks back, my mother stitched this pencil pouch for keeping them organised, using a few of my old clothes. My pencils have finally found a home – a wonderful one too! 🙂

The changes a pencil undergoes in its lifetime, as well as the transformation of my old clothes into this new pouch are my interpretations for this week’s challenge.

For more changing images, visit the Daily Post’s Weekly Photo Challenge – Change

The storm


Lightning and thunder play a tug of war
With the most delicate of fibres

Even as torrential rain is contained
Within a tiny vessel

Waves of salty water threaten to flood
The ploughed landscape

Unable to comprehend
Yet desperate to shed the burden

The hand begins to move of its own accord
Meaning manifests through the most unexpected means

The storm recedes
The vessel attains momentary peace


Creative people are often considered temperamental and restless. A lot has been said and written about this. I recently read the phrase “the creative’s curse” somewhere and this poem is my little contribution towards the stereotype.