Green Pond

Rain subsided

Life is getting dry again

The days of sunshine leads me

To the nights of melancholic dreams

No more chilly winds and

Dripping droplets from nascent leaves

This wetland is getting barren again

A small patch is all that left

Devoid of human encroachment

Though surrounded by buildings 

A shall rain pond

Its surface looks as if painted green

With its layer of glowing algae

Resembling a thin grassland

Starting from the sloppy valley

Created by the heap of workshop waste

Ends at the basements of walls around

Three tree pits stands dwarf

Growing afresh with new leaves

They were razed down some months ago

There are no woodpeckers or kingfishers

Flying around

But there might be some fishes in the pond

Beneath its green belly

It never ceases to fascinate me

As I see this pond, re-emerging from dry patch

Aftermath every monsoon

Each time it takes different shapes

It will dry up again soon

It will remain idle, waiting for next monsoon

It’s a haven for mosquitoes now

Even though I wish to see, it dried up soon

As I don’t want bites from mosquito babes

Sweethearts who love my blood

I will keep this unusual green pond

In my monsoon memories

This is the 150th poem in this blog.A small landmark.
Well this is about a pond in my neighborhood that emerges periodically after every monsoon.

Who is she?

Who is she?

I wonder

She came, she conquered

An angel with silky tongue

Flutters all the time

Her chirpy thoughts

With her unique, shy smile

Even as I lost myself

Looking deep into her

Tempting blue eyes

She kept laughing with immense joy

I wonder what prompts her

To come for me

Though, I am just a mute spectator

She gives surprising looks

As if asking me , where am I ?

She is  in a hurry always

Holding my hand with her velvet hand

She drags me to her favorite places

Explains every little thing

About whatever she likes

But, all I look at is her beauty

Her antics and her style

All I hear is her endearing voice

I feel she is living her life through me

Trying to find something, she lost

As she utters with a sigh

You are, you remind me

At end of our every conversation

And walks away towards silence

With her smile waning down

Like setting sun in the eve

Making way for inconsolable tears

That she prefers to hide from me

But I still wonder

Who is she!  

Well,don't misunderstand me! I am still wondering who is she. I saw her in a dream. Lol. 

Shade of Darkness

Darkness, a shade of unknown fear,

which blinds the vision, in a way.

It prompts eyes to seek rays of light

To find the lost path and direction

Without maps of emotions

To get to a secured shelter

Darkness is the colorful pain

In the eyes of a blind

The only color that makes up a huge world

A color that reminds the presence of

A brighter world that is beyond them

It befriended the colorless noise

To guide through a strange world

Built with dreams and passion

But kept alive with the means of sinful desire

To make it bigger for comfort, not for peace

A place, not meant for those who struggle

It’s a big damn world of brightness

Where even the ones with bright eyes

Wander in its wilderness in search of hope

Darkness is an endless void that fills heart

When love cease to rise from depths

Of the solemn soul

As it lost its wings in the fury of fate

Charred into ashes of peace

Destined to embrace the freedom of heaven

Away from the world of hatred

Just as this bright day, the dark night also fascinates me with its treasure of mysteries to explore,and i am just trying to unearth some.

My Pleasantly disturbed Thursday

Indeed,

I hardly slept during night

Due to a troublesome flu

Set alarm to wake up so early

To call my friend

Whenever I felt like sleeping

Some thoughts keep coming into mind

I kept scribbling down

Into pieces of poems

After travelling through the highways

Of my memories

I saw my ever-pleasant village

Innocence prevails in its atmosphere

I saw the people I left behind

The ones who cared me so much

My lonely childhood

The places where I used to play

With my imaginary friends

I wonder how I started hating it

Though the warmth of their love

Still touches my heart

I saw how my life took shape

From my lonely childhood

As I scrambled through my options

Seeked suggestions from others

I found my mind in a state of stagnation

I searched whole day for an inspiration

Until I saw pleasantly disturbed Thursday

I realized, I have to get back to the past

To dig the treasure of memories

To churn out the missing pieces in my collection

My words

I wonder, the more I try to put lid on

Those dark days of my life

It seems to flash inspiring visuals

For me to cultivate my art

Now, curiosity has taken over my heart

To find out the meaning of forgotten relations

Those priceless moments  

The wish to go out and find those

To see, how they are

But , I don’t want to walk back to those corridors

As I have to move on to new pastures

 This poem is written for participating in Duane-Scott's Blog Carnival. Please visit. 

 

Another Mom

As a kid, I was lucky

Being loved by people around

In my neighborhood

There was an aunty,

Younger than my mom was then

She and her husband was fond of me

As they didn’t had kids, then

She showered love on me

That could envy any mom

She looked after me like her own kid

Took me to her home, when she had time

Or I visited her when I missed her

Everyday, she used to feed me the lunch

With my favorite fried eggs of fish

I liked being with her

Since she cared me a lot

One day I called her “mom”

As I couldn’t differentiate her love

From my own mom

She was happy at that moment

Months later, she moved on afar

When she finally had her own child

She named him after me

May be in my memory

When I visited her once, years later

She was so happy

And I felt the same warmth in her eyes

Despite we didn’t meet for long

I haven’t seen her, ever since

But I feel, I have another mom in her

Some relations are unique

Rising from the bottom of hearth

With more depth than bloodily relations

This is about a lady who loved me like her own son.