Friday 10 April 2015

Broken Patterns

Embossed fonts chizzeled over a seemingly infinite base,
Rubbing my hands through all the patterned gales.
Addicted to the rhythemic movement of my hands,
Over the ornamentations on the temple wall in colourful bands
Carried was I to go with the flow,
Unaware, unattentive of what went around
Lost in the patterned world!

But the rhythm did something interrupt ...
A wiggled tuft,
Blossoming life inside a lifelessly lively pattern
As if taking forward the baton ...
The responsibility to burst the monotony bubble,
And bring twists and curves even inside the cracked part of the motif! 
Yes a pretty life emerging from the broken pattern!

Tuesday 7 April 2015

Nature - Mother Nature

When a hug is what you need,
Go, visit the natural breeze
And yes your thirst will it heal!

Just close your eyes and breath,
And the mother nature will do its bit
And will it circumference the airy arms around you
Trying to assemble the broken pieces of you into you!
Don't worry it won't drive these pieces apart ...
It would circle around and provide a motherly comfort! 
Because afterall she too is a mother!

Lost

Shining dimonds on a vast floor,
As if toppled upside down,
But not yet off their bore.
Dropping shine over the light-scorched houses ashore!
Yes they are the stars!

One day a childlike curiosity popped inside me,
How many such pearls does this earth carry?
How many of them do witness our midnight melodies?

That night when the clock struck nine,
Aiming my sight at each star that stays upright,
One, two, three,  four, five...
Counted I till midnight,
Unaware of how far the count was carrying me!

Now breaking the chain of my count frantically,
I banged my head into a brownish tree!
Somewhat scared, maybe of my own shriek,
Fell I onto the floor of that empty street!

I rolled my eyes around sulkily,
Eaten up with fear,
Lost did then I feel,
And hence dropping a flood of tears.

These flooded eyes and the dark night manupilated the midnight scene.
The concrete road seemed like rushy water,
The swishing of trees a shrieky scream,
Waving to me with demoniac laughter!

This moment was a do or die,
Either could I stand up and try,
To get through the gushy water,
Or else stay and let the cold blood flow within with a hasty high!

Now cluching myself really tight,
I was ready to try,
To step into the gasty flow!
But when with fear went my tears all dry,
A road concrete enough was I standing by!

No gales, no waves had there ever been
My mind had then created that adernalin high,
Which made things seem so scarily wry!
Now me has found a braver I,
Which knows when imagination imposts to the reality of the eye,
The heart will always help you through,
And will let you look out for the daring new!

-Angel Pandhi