24. Little Kid

A skinny little boy
walked through the street,
tears in his eyes.

His clothes were old and torn,
shoes oversized.
He walked ignoring staring eyes.

One fellow gave him a loaf,
someone else asked his name.
Another one offered a ride home.

The boy didn’t speak.
Eating the loaf he walked forward,
as fast as his tiny tired legs could take him.

All those who saw it pitied him,
wondered at his past,
only for a minute and he was forgotten the next.

Nobody followed him,
nobody stopped him,
Nobody remembered him.

Until they saw the headlines the next day:
The missing deaf kid’s body
found near the lake.

23. A stranger

He was sitting on a park bench,
all alone,
staring at me all the while.
Later I saw him in the cafeteria
and in the library afterward.
Nobody saw him except me,
as if he was invisible to all others.

He was clad in a maroon shirt
and black pants.
He wore glasses,
thick-framed ones.
A middle-aged man
of probably 45 years.

He came and sat beside me
on a park bench
on a Friday evening.
We talked and talked
of rainbows and valleys
of all the things you can think of.

That stranger became very close,
and we used to talk for hours each day.
We still do.
Only, now I know why no one can see him.
He is not real, you see.
But that doesn’t matter. Why should it?

22. The Wall

All I could see is the wall.
The wall that runs to greater heights
that it’s impossible to climb by any means.
There are no gates,
No one goes in; no one comes out,
not through the walls.
Every day I come here,
in search of a chance,
to go in.
I don’t know what lies inside,
but there is this call.
This call I am hearing
for the past few weeks.
A heartbroken wail
of someone,
something.
Maybe its a trap,
maybe what awaits is danger.
But maybe, maybe it’s not.
Maybe I can escape
from this mechanic world
and stop being a robot.

21. Longing

I am tired,
tired of waking up to this feeling,
this feeling of longing,
longing for something I can’t understand.
It transforms from that dull pain,
I ignored easily
to this throbbing ache in my heart
that can’t be buried deep within the mind.
Longing for some unknown thing.
Its as if there is a parasite living in me,
drinking blood from my heart.
And now it has grown in full length.
Whom should I tell,
whom should I seek counsel?
I am scared to speak,
to tell people.
But what is it that I long for?
Don’t I have everything already?
Yes, I do.
Maybe it will pass if I sleep more,
let me lie down dear.

20. The kite

She ran through the woods,
along the river,
through the field,
to catch her broken kite.

The kite flew with the wind,
round and round, up and down,
holding her skirt up,
jumping fences, she followed.

That is the kite aunt June made her,
with glistening red paper,
and long blue tail,
one that beat everyone.

And at last,
the kite decided to halt,
on top of that old oak tree,
so high above the ground.

She climbed the tree
and got the kite back,
and ran back home,
and fell in a puddle.

Covered in mud,
kite in hand,
the little girl went back home,
trodding along.

19.A Predator

They travel in groups,
hunting on the forbidden lands.
They lure their preys into death
with their mesmerizing beauty.
Don’t look into their eyes,
You wouldn’t come back if you did.
When the night deepens
and when you desperately need light,
they will appear,
radiating blue light
filling the surroundings.
They will bewitch you.
You will go to them
without realizing.
They will captivate your mind,
making you one of them.
That’s how they grow.
Beware of them.

18. End of Winter

Sun shone through clouds,
after many days of absence.
Snow Queen has begun to retreat,
for the lady of spring to come.
Frozen lakes began to unfreeze,
trees began to bloom.
Nature shed her white dress,
to clad in the fresh spring one.
The silence that covered the lands
was broken by chirping birds,
buzzing bees, and blooming flowers.
A little girl ran to the mountain,
to make one last snow angel of the season.
Her younger brother ran behind,
stumbling and falling in the snow,
to be picked up by his parents.
Snowballs flew through the air,
snowmen were made.
Their laughter echoed
through the mountains and valleys.
A happy family of four
celebrating the end of winter.

17. Gramophone

I walk down the busy street,
swarming with people,
stores both sides,
a perfect way to get lost.
There it was, smiling at me
from the antique pride that the shop offered,
a gramophone.

An object which decorated the great halls,
now lay in a street shop,
hidden from some,
neglected by others.
Counting the number of songs
it sang and reminiscing
about a past that is long gone.

The golden horns have lost its luster,
soundbox has lost its rhythm,
without a disc to read,
the needle is rusty.
Even in diminish,
it stood there, proudly,
representing a time in the past.

Like everyone,
I took a look at them,
and went my way,
without looking back.

16. Love

It was cold outside,
the fireplace had burned out.
We lay there,
in each other’s arms,
naked in an entangled mess,
breathing in scents,
sharing same breath,
surviving on the heat between.
For how long,
I have not counted.
What held us together
not sweet words or light romance,
but harsh need and selfish want,
and the desire to survive the cold.

15. Her

The sky was blue and clear,
the grass was green and soft,
she sat under the old oak tree,
with a basket full of strawberries.

She has big blue eyes,
with thick slanted eyebrows,
on her sweaty brown face,
a beautiful, kind face.

She sells strawberries,
to those who came to sightsee,
a perfect picture she made,
a woman selling strawberries.

She had two mouths to fill,
her two little kids,
with same blue eyes as hers,
blue as deep as the ocean.

Some brought her berries,
some bargained the price,
some asked for her time,
to fill their beds at night.

She sat silent,
no strength in the voice,
no hope in her eyes,
selling fresh juicy strawberries

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