A Farmhouse Wish

 

I wish to lease 

A farmhouse somewhere in the hills of Idukki

Where the fog and mist welcome the mornings 

An old building left behind by the British owner

With wooden floors and ceilings and a cellar 

Cellar used to store produce from the farms 

A fireplace to enjoy some drinks at night 

Maybe some ghosts hanging around 

To give a company and tell tales from another era

A nice place to enjoy the emptiness of life 

Surrounded by mango, nutmeg, and teak trees 

Pepper creepers crawling on the smaller trees 

Farms of tea and cardamom keep the air fragrant

The Orange trees amidst the tea plants look odd

The bushes of cinnamon trees evoke strong feelings

Along with the cloves and vanilla beans

Maybe some apples and peaches too 

Small streams run down through the farms 

The freshly brewed coffee and tea from the area

May make the mornings exciting for walks 

Along the hills towards the local junction 

To get local news and a bit of banter with people

A place to enjoy the monsoon rains and the winter 

A life away from the cities and concrete jungles 

Farming and enjoying the harvest of produce 

Maybe setting up a microbrewery for wine 

With fresh air aplenty and less humidity 

And a lot of big hills on the horizon 

The rides through the hairpins will be exciting

Trekking in the jungles and boating in dams

There are plenty of things to do 

Maybe I am still in love with the hills 

As I grew up on a barren hill with tapioca fields 

This poem is inspired by this video https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-omMJ9zRoO8 A couple from London restoring their Portuguese Quinta. The images are taken from Shutterstock and Cardamom Farm Shutterstock 

Sunrise At Kanyakumari Beach

Kanyakumari, 

The southernmost tip of the Indian mainland  

It boasts of a small beach with some rocks

The curves in the map are real down there 

A rare beach to have both sunrise and sunset

We stayed overnight to see the first rays 

In the pitch darkness, we went to the beach 

Stood among the patient crowd to get the best view

On a distant horizon, the sun rose from the sea 

Splitting the darkness with bright light 

With a tinge of orange shade clouds 

It revealed the beauty of the beach unlike under lights 

The sun slowly moved towards the Vivekananda rocks

And then placed itself aside the Thiruvalluvar statue 

A rock-based pathway towards the sea emerged 

Parallel to the Vivekananda rocks 

We slowly walked through it to the end 

We sat on the rocks and saw the sun moving away

Then looked at the beach from meters inside the sea 

It was magical with the sea on both sides 

It was scary, but it was memorable 

As the images of the Tsunami 

That lashed there in 2004

Was still fresh in the mind 

As the dawn bloomed 

Boats started taking visitors 

To the Vivekananda rocks

We rather enjoyed the Vivekananda rocks 

From the rock pathway, as we walked back to the beach

The comments on Twitter, about the best beaches, as part of a question related to my poem The Last Sunset gave me the inspiration to write about the sunrise I saw at Kanyakumari Beach. This is the southernmost tip of India, if you check the map. Both the sunrise and sunset here are beautiful. The images are taken from Shutterstock and Wikimedia Commons.  

The Last Sunset

 

A bed set on a lonely beach

Shallow shore lets in slower tides

To fill water beneath the bed

It is awaiting its next guest

To pass over the message

Left behind by the last tenant

Wish you a happy journey!

He is set to come in the evening

For enjoying one last sunset

To drench his feet with waves

 Sitting on the bed facing the sea  

 As he could barely stand

He would rather walk on the sands 

But he is too weak even with support

He is not old, he is just ill 

 He has visited this beach many times

 With his sweetheart in his prime days

 He wishes to see those memories again

 As his sweetheart has left him for good

 She won’t know about the wish he shares

 With the waves for one last time, a secret

 He could lay down and enjoy conversations

 With the stars, that were liked by her dearly

 He will be bidding adieu to the moon

 He used to see her on the moon when lonely

A big thank you smile for the moon

For bestowing company in his empty nights

Before leaving this world, while sleeping

 From the heartbreak, miseries, and illnesses

 Through euthanasia, a merciful exit from the world

 At his favourite beach, where he weaved all his dreams! 

 

 

This poem is inspired by the picture given by #OnePicPoetry. This poem is dedicated to those who wish to leave this world without pain legally. I certainly wish that for myself. 

Silence Of A Library

I see the library as a garden of books

That emanates fragrances of old and new books 

Like the fragrance of flowers of vivid colours 

The board 'Silence Please' welcome you

To the world of words full of peace 

But the hush talks do make unwanted noise

Some people forget that they're supposed to be silent

 Racks of books are arranged like skyscrapers 

Computer catalogs made it easy to locate books

Yet checking out similar books in those racks 

Give the pleasure of finding something precious

The searching for books on ladders is dangerous

But it is an adventure inside a library

The eyes of the book searchers glee when they find

The dear book they have been looking for long 

Then you see countless people totally immersed 

In the books as if they're seeing visuals live

I find the library the best place to read a book

Without worrying about time or social media

The silent reading room is like a heaven for readers

Pin drop silence, and you can hear your own heartbeats 

Many a day I sat there and read books for my research 

With nothing to disturb, the words just walk into the mind

Building the narrative I want to write for my paper 

I and my friend once sneaked into a library floor

Restricted for students, to see what was there 

In that semi-dark room, with only light from the windows 

We came across precious old books and journals  

That gave insights into machines from the industrial revolution era 

Also books on philosophy, and history, science, among others 

Neatly bookified newspapers from a different era 

I've come across the silent romances along the bookshelves corridors

Lovers keeping books in their hands and eyes lost in eyes 

They shared their hearts, as if in a park, without worries 

I found the designs for my 3-D cad projects in a British Library

Toiling hours through the automobile books, journals, and magazines 

The memories of paying fines for late return of books remain in mind

The online libraries and online book platforms

 Made books accessible in the personal gadgets

But the sensation of holding a book and flipping pages 

To read is still magical, book lovers would agree 

I would love to taste the silence of a library again to read books 

The seed of this poem came to my mind while going through the tweets related to books. I find it hard to read books now due to my depression. But I am very nostalgic about spending a lot of hours in libraries as a student. I mostly read books that are not related to studies :D Image taken by Emil Widlund. Thank you :) 

A Bag Full of Cash

 

A lady walking back to her apartment 

After her late-night work shift came across 

A bag full of cash abandoned on a footpath

Under a streetlight in front of a legendary statue 

She was stunned and excited about the possibilities 

Nobody was around and she asked herself 

Should I Keep this?

I didn't steal this, it might be a god's gift 

My morals are slightly blinding as the cash is there for taking

I am just skint and broke, it won't make me a bad person

If I take this home and start a new life in a faraway town

Her joy was short-lived as a man saw her with the bag open

He asked if it was her money!

She was sure that the man has seen her checking the money

She nodded that she got it from there a while ago 

She offered him a share from that bag 

He was broke too and need cash to repay his debts 

He was tempted by the offer and was about to agree

Somehow, he asked, what if its a blood money?

Belonging to nasty gangs and they might chase them

To take back money and revenge! 

I fear about the source of the money! I don't want it. 

She said you're just doing the right thing

I should be as well, but I don't think I would be able to 

Before she could take the bag and walk away 

A man with a gun asked them to up their hands 

He claimed that it was his lifelong earning 

He was not going to share a penny with them

If they want their lives, 

They should walk away without looking back 

They were scared for their lives and they walked dejectedly

With broken dreams and ruined hopes of a better life 

Only to hear the gunshots 

and they saw that man on the floor dead 

They ran for their lives leaving behind their wishes 

Towards the safety of their homes 

They could hear the angry taunts from a gang

This is what happens to the backstabbers in our gang

No mercy, death is the only punishment for the betrayal

The deceased man had planned for a while to dump a bag

During one of their robbery return trips, his mate knew it

He had informed the gang leader after the man went missing   

This poem is inspired and based on a conversation with @sliced_carpet on Twitter. Her tweet was , bag of cash.. nobody around.. are you keeping it? Be honest. Image taken from istockphoto. Thank you :)