Writing a letter

Blogging out our emotions to strangers in anonymity,

Chasing and hoarding comments and likes in social alienity,

Messaging and getting irked at late replies,

Somewhere, we forgot what matters,

We forgot to write letters…

to pour out the pent up feelings on a scented paper,

to express care and concern in cursive caper,

to fill the room with crumpled endeavors,

to rewrite, rehearse and dissever,

to think of how the written words will be percieved,

to hope it meets the eyes of beloved,

to patiently wait for the reply,

to never fee low, though time refused to fly,

and it did come …

a lot slower than likes, much detailed than a comment,

but was never shared and read close to chest,

at times bringing a smile,

at times leaving the eyes wetter,

do you remember ….

why did we forget to write the letter ???

And the the day ends….

Throwing off all the baggage onto sofa,

Removing thick layers off the body,

Shredding the impostures of the day,

Ranting the unsaid to the washroom mirror,

Vomiting out the swallowed tears,

Splashing the eyes to wash off the dried salts,

Taking the pill that was never subscribed,

Placing a pillow by the side to keep company,

I bury my heart in knees

I sleep….

First rains

Will you step out?
With naked feet sinking,
In freshly doughed mud
Waiting for your autograph,

Will you step out?
Forgetting the umbrella,
Keeping the glares tucked in pocket,
For sun has been gift wrapped by the clouds,

Will you step out?
To match your steps
To the drizzle from sky,
To the symphony of…
moist winds,
tin roofs,
empty cans,
ribbits of frogs,

Will you step out ?
To drench
To dilute your salts,
To soak with nature

Will you step out ?
To see off the summers ,
To mellow the pyrexia,
To witness the first rains…..

Intovert things

He saw the world through window,

With curtains obscuring him,

He walked keeping an eye toes,

As if having conversations with pavement markings,

His eyes talked,

But seldom met anyone,

His journals filled up the room,

Just like his silence would,

He enjoyed rains ,

But with palms stretching out of the window grill,

He was a poker faced in crowd,

But the washroom mirror saw the best expressions of him,

So matured was his introvertness,

That he practiced his spellings,

But never worked on pronunciation……

Glass ceiling

Immersed in the depths of overthinking,

Even reaching to the point of drowning

But for the little buoyancy,

I bounce back from the brink,

Every time i try to emerge from these waters,

The epipelagic shine blinds me,

And I recede to depths,

But the dream to breathe and feel the air is still afloat

I still call out ….

to sailing ships,

to migrating birds,

With a hope to break the glass ceiling someday

Life after death

Soul escapes

Heart stops

Body drops

Cage succumbs with the flesh

To law of gravity

Clock resigns

Submitting past, present and future

Tides and waves come to standstill,

Reducing an ocean to dead lake,

Only thing alive is the memory of the gone,

In the minds of some,

Enough to make them relieved or numb.