The Poetry Marathon

It’s in our nature
to search for people
quite like us
Isn’t it?
quite naturally
or subconsciously
We seek them out actively
finding our comfort zones
Though with an expanding world
We’ve expanded our circles
Finding similarities
Finding differences
Adapting, adjusting
but still,
But we tend to gather in flocks
like birds of a feather!
So, this means that in all gatherings,
there’s going to be a majority
and a minority
How the majority deals
with the minority
is the story
of every gathering
of every cluster
of this whole world
we call ‘Humanity’!

Strange land it is where the Frownies roam
Dead serious, deadpan!
Humongous of girth, not a sliver of mirth
All guests to their town they scan!

Snicker Notsville, the town is named
They forbid all merriment
They stoop and walk with the weight of the world
Not a penny’s worth of entertainment!

They think they do earth-shaking work
And their glory all must sing
But sad they look, and sadder they feel
with no intention of ever changing!

Is there any point to this
sans snickers, chortles or guffaws?
It’s a heavy crown their heads do bear
Focussing on finding flaws!

It’s perhaps the quest they chase
for perfection is an elusive goal
It leads to stress and such a mess
And takes a heavy toll!

Some time if they spent in Cacchin Nation
practising fun regularly
Not missing even the slightest chance
To burst forth in utmost glee!

They’d surely find their troubles behind
And efficiency increased
Things would run smoothly for sure
If their hilarity was well-greased!

The crow hasn’t much to crow about
His spirit bleached to a dull white
All of Earth as he knew has changed
Not much left of his fight

His raucous songs were his pride
His friends and he ruled in a mob
He adapted well to city life
And went about his job

He often thinks of days gone by
When he was his blackest black
But even at his darkest
He was no match for man’s attack

His numbers slowly dwindled then
As man gained more foothold
He’s finding it hard to adjust
and craves for those days old

The air, the trees, and his old allies
Have changed and gone for good
Work now to reverse this if you care
Or you’ll lose another species in the neighbourhood.

There’s rarely an Indian
who will not rave about the ‘achaar’
their Dadi or Nani made.
They may also tell you of the strict rules
to making of that ‘achaar’
lest it get spoiled!
Recipes were passed down
from mother-in-law to daughter-in-law
Come summertime, raw green mangoes
kilos at a time
would leave the home smelling like a green paradise
and then Dadi or Nani depending on which set of grandparents
you were visiting that summer
would call for her special mix of spices
Fennel, fenugreek, nigela, mustard, turmeric
salt and chilli powder red and feiry!
The colours all a riot on a large platter
A pouring of a hot golden glaze of mustard oil
and everyone’s salivary glands would go into a frenzy
at the aroma announcing to the neighbourhood
It was ‘achaar’ day at our home!
Those jars with white muslin-covered mouths
would rest for days under strong sunlight
deepening the flavour and developing character!
Such a character and flavour that was
that it’s been 40 years since Nani’s gone,
but my salivary glands still go into a frenzy
at the mere thought of Nani’s ‘achaar’!

Whispering zephyrs secrets reveal
The old village Banyan tries hard to conceal

Underneath the cloak of stygian skies
lay stories concealed from seeing eyes
and floods of tears from forced goodbyes

But time is the keeper of all tales
blind yet partial to some details

When its wheels round do turn
History is repeated and oft churned

Yet, Karma’s eyes fair cards do deal
Whispering zephyrs secrets reveal

But time is the keeper of all tales
And churns to what karma entails
It ain’t blind to true lovers’ wails

Under the Banyan tree, lovers were slayed
The village was cursed, barren it stayed.

Oh what a power that is
when you hold and press
the power and volume buttons on your phone
at the same time!
Voila!
A picture framed
a moment so fleeting
freezes on your screen for eternity
or at least today’s abridged version of eternity
or till you find no more use of that frozen moment
and trash it to create space for another moment
for another abridged eternity
or maybe, just for posterity!

A screenshot of a bad picture of your ex
after a bad break up
Ah! the power that holds
The peace that brings!

Someone is lying to your face,
but you’re armed with a screenshot
and you let them continue just so that
they can dig their graves a little deeper
That’s quite a power!

You need to show off your wordle score
Yeah, it’s the screenshot that comes to the fore!

The cause of a rumour
The cause of distress
Take one of these
when you want to impress
A problem to solve?
No words are needed
Just screenshot the problem
And it’ll be the reason you succeeded!
Shop with a screenshot
Pay with it too
Screenshot some funny memes
For times when you’re blue!
No one’s stingy with screenshots
They all take a dozen a dime
everyone’s armed with the power of screenshots
And that’s the screenshot of our times!

My saviour,

You tried, I know
Don’t cry, for I still feel your pain
Like you felt mine
You tried, I know

You were my saviour
when you picked me from the streets
You were my saviour
when you granted me a better death
You tried, I know

I didn’t understand much of
what was happening to me
but I knew, you would do right by me
Or whatever you did was certainly right to me
You tried, I know!

You cried as you called out my name
and I came to you even in my pain
You put the leash around my neck
for the first and the last time
You tried, I know!

I wasn’t used to the leash
So I fought and it tightened around my neck
Like a noose
And you yelled out in pain, more than me
You tried, I know!

It was time for me to go
You could not see me suffer so
So, I lay as you helped me die
I just went deeper into sleep
You tried, I know!

I will wait for you beyond the rainbow bridge
For now, I’ll pray to be your smile
That’s all I was, that’s all I wanted
I tried, you know!

Yours faithfully,
Puppy

The wine glass tips, falls, and shatters!
Its tinkle matching my laughter tone for tone
My young fingers playfully
trace the breadth of your shoulders
Then like coquettes
do a complete turnaround
digging viciously
claiming space
someplace
not theirs…
and breaking
a lacquered nail
on your back
They rise to my lips,
my fingertips
to stifle a delirious scream
unsuccessfully…
For that they were
back then!
Unsuccessful
in holding on to time, to dreams, to you!
How foolish!
Fingers feel, but they do not know
that nothing is theirs
to hold on to
Not dreams
nor lovers, nor their promises
nor their prime…
But with time,
fingers learn
like mine have learned
that knitting cheery sunflowers
on woollen sweaters are a better bet
for the warmth I crave!

Words used from prompt: Wine glass, nail, space, knitting, sunflowers

A hundred years ago
Humans were there
a few non-humans, well.. not so much.
A hundred years ago,
Some humans wept
but kept
going the way
all humans go
Like all humans are going even now
A hundred years later,
and quite a few non-humans have gone forever
But humans are still going on
For how long?
Another hundred years
If I said,
I’d perhaps be wrong!

Come to me like a song
a half-remembered melody
Like promises I half forgot
to a certain special somebody!
Come now to me like my muse
with a tingle and melancholy
a song that tugs my heartstrings
rekindling pain from old follies

Come to me like an old song
That lifts me into a trance
nudging me from drills of drudgery
to new words and thoughts perchance!
Come now to me, like my muse
save me from dry despair
Let my ink flow like tears
my broken wings repair!