The Poetry Marathon

There it stands
But not really
It’s a tree without legs
A rootless tree

A rare sight in wild
Something that shouldn’t survive
Yet still it does and thrives
Showing off a crown of lush green

But how and why?
Something that’s so beyond reason?
Maybe, maybe not
You see, it’s not alone

Another tree stands by its side
Complete with healthy roots
And sturdy trunk, which it uses
To support its friend in need

Humans, I think, are similar
We survive because we band together
We thrive because we grow together
So why must we fight?

Let’s all be like the healthy tree
And share our roots,
With our brothers and sisters
So they can survive as well

And thrive!
Like that rootless tree.

When I was a little girl
My grandma used to tell me
Stories of times past
And people that lived long before me

Stories of kings and queens
Warriors and sages
Stories with lessons
And sometimes, a little reason

Parables from Ramayana & Mahabharata
Stories of Buddha and Guru Nanak
Tales of morality from Panchatantra
And of course, tales from her village of old

My favourite was Dukko
(That’s what you call a super old lady)
And her goats four with names all funny–
Hudere, Huneel, Hulay, Huran

Once two thiefs, all cunning & mighty
Decided to steal Dukko’s goats
Oh what a tragedy!
For the old lady had no one but them

But as they approached her house
Late one night
The goats started bleating
And woke up their old lady.

As the first goat spoke
Dukko called– “Hudere”?
The thieves were shocked!
“Did she just say- Who is there”?

Not wanting to take a chance and being discovered
Both crouched down, so as to avoid Dukko’s nazar
But as the second goat spoke
Dukko called– “Huneel”?

The thieves more shocked than ever
“Did she just ask- who is kneeling”?
Let’s not take a chance and lie down
Then no way she can see us here

But as they did so, the third goat spoke
And Dukko asked– “Hulay”?
The thieves were both now frightened
“She can see us, she asked who lays there!”

And thus throwing away thoughts of stealing
They both started to make a run for it
When the fourth goat spoke
And Dukko called – “Huran”?

“She can see us still!
Asking who is running!
She must be a witch!
Let’s not come back here!”

And thus the thieves ran away
Without looking back
While the goats bleated happily
All was at last safe!

Note: Here ‘Nazar’ means sight

(Based on hour 13 text prompt)

Misfortune falls unexpectedly
You are just there
Going about your life
When suddenly
The world turns upside down

You question –
Why me
What did I ever do
Wasn’t I good enough
A human just striving to survive?

You look on as time passes
As friends leave you behind
As everyone questions
What’s wrong with you
As everything falls apart

You try and pick up
The broken pieces
Try and recreate
The complete picture
But some pieces are lost forever

Crying and despair
Scorn and loneliness
The feeling of drowning
While people stand and watch
Scoffing– how come you can’t swim?

And then, in the deepest despair
Through the depths of ice water
That suffocates you
Reaches out a hand
Do I finally have a friend?

Someone who cares and understands
Teaches you how to swim
Accepts you for all your mess
They don’t care if you don’t put up a front
Just for the sake of it

They know and they are here
And if one thing you gained
Going through all the trauma, guilt and despair
Is a friend who will stand by your side
Even in the face of misfortune.

People like people who are positive
Fun to be around, complete human
You and your demons and your broken pieces
Still have a place to go, to call home
A person that misfortune gifted you.

How to keep a room
warm without fire or electricity?

When the people closest to you
gather in one place –

Warmth comes naturally!

In the eleventh hour
It rises
The water bearer
With its vessels that carries
Life itself
Flowing,
Adapting,
Nourishing,
Destroying
The water is life
And death in itself
Though the bearer himself
Doesn’t know
The power it holds
The power it wields
On the circle of existence itself
For it just carries the source
Every eleventh hour
As it rises
Day in , day out
the vessel that carries
Life itself.

A new day arrives
And you can’t hide
In the warmth of night
Anymore
You must go out
And about your life
Even as you put
Your brave face on

A new day arrives
And you still need to survive
Go out and about
With all the fear and doubt
But go you must
It’s the part of life
So put your
Brave face on

A new day arrives
A new chance to thrive
Even as world goes on and on
It’s a part of life
You can’t always cry
And more often than not
You gotta put your
Brave face on.

Humans die, we all do
Then it’s time for burial
Returning from where
We came too

A body made of elements
Back to elements we go
The choice of how
Is already made for you

Some by fire
Burn away sins,
Only Ash
to remember you by

Some in water
Going with the
flow of life
Till the bitter end

A few through sky & air
Becoming food
To replenish the natural world
As it once did you

And many more still
Who are laid to rest
In the lap of Earth
And bidden goodbyes

But no matter what
Burial you recieve
You were here and you have lived
Death is just yet another beginning.

A memory flutters
Sometimes
When I have forgotten
It goes, buzzes around
Till I try to catch it
Till I try to grasp it
In my hands
In my scarred, trembling hands
Only for it to vanish
Just leaving a whisper of laugh behind.

I saw you a hundred dreams ago
There, back on that old wooden bench by the lake

I saw you as you were back when we first met
Just as stunning, just as ethereal

Time had taken a lot from us
The first memories and our youth

But how can it take away
What’s in our hearts since forever?

I saw you a hundred dreams ago
Just as the day when we met

Just as stunning, just as ethereal
And I fell in love once again.

High upon the tallest tree
On the wooden branches
Perched a dragon
Looking out into the sea

It’s wings all curled up
(I wonder how big they must be)
It’s scales gleaming in the rays
Of setting sun scattered through the sea

And I looked and looked at it some more
While waiting – for something to happen
For it to move or lean or stretch or..
Anything really!

But still it sat with wooden eyes
On the high branch of the tree
Just, simply, plainly
looking over the sea when–

The ringing classroom bell brought me back to real life
Where maths problems were the reality
And dragons on branches existed only in crevices of bored minds
Imagination fueled by lack of fantasy

With a last look outside the window
I sighed as I moved on to another story
Entirely missing the dragon on the branch
Finally unfurling it’s wings and flying towards the sea.