Commonword Blogs

"I could sense your happiness even though I was your small dot of hope and your bond to faith. Sounds of celebration, contentment, I could hear them all. We spoke about us, our lives after I arrive. Your caressing touch as you spoke to me. I wish I could touch your hands back. Early days they were, was a matter of time.

Childhood is of paramount importance in one's upbringing. Having met underprivileged kids and knowing their stories have always made me think the world they've seen at a tender age. A dedication to these kids.

Only feathers when I saw your dark eyes.
Blinfolded by vanity,
You didn't see me breathe in life.
I saw what you did.
I wanted to fly, I had no wings,
you clawed me back.
I wish I could fly.

Your feathers though withering didn't care for mine.
Part of a play, I didn't want to be.
You commanded to stop, wrath soothed me.
A feeble voice never could overlay yours.

It's 8, wake, it's late, on the brush and paste, haste, to wake up at 8 is too much to take
Get wet, get set, get dressed, forget, regret, get upset,
It's 9, whine, no sleep divine, but act benign
To board a train, a pain, a bane, the crowd insane, inane
a journey, mundane

Shirt wrinkled, hair draggled, shoes mangled, head rattled, brains addled.
It's 11, reached slaves' haven, now a shaven pseudo maven,
Now work, overwork, rework, call your boss a jerk.
It's 3, work, overwork, rework, deal with your boss' smirk
Now shirk.

I walked across a crowded lane,
Gathering eyes that ceased to blink
Failed to understand your presents of sympathy,
and the heads that didn't seem to shrink.

Don't look at me with pain,
As none of it I feel,
This life's full of courage and hope,
as I strive and learn the nuances of human beings.

Change may evade me,
and I grow with every step of patience galore,
Indifferent it doesn't make me,
Instead, a lesson to persevere with a smile,
I put in the fore.

So turn back, blink and look deep within,
Think of this face, when a life you want to leave and shun.

This is a poetry I had written when I saw my sister crying. It felt bad as it was a silent release of emotions.
So here goes;

Never saw you...never saw you this way,
I thought you had given up...given up this fray.
I knew it pained and it pained a lot,
I saw your tears for the first time I thought.

Your face though covered, your hands your veil,
It had a story, it had a tale.
Your eyes though tired, did cry a river.
Just couldn't see, couldn't see you shiver.

Please smile little sister please smile,
some things in life may push you the extra mile.

"Life on it's way being simple, being the way I wanted it to be. A family, meant to be together, friends who were your own, a soulmate to cry and smile with, I had a life, just as good as yours.
This is my story.

We would meet up at a common friend's place, discuss our days, our deep and darkest secrets, work and obvious gossip. These were the times I could always express myself and these were more like detox sessions, ever refreshing.
Often we surprised a friend, by smacking cake on his/her face and watch him/her grow with us for another year.

This is a story inspired by recent events. This story is based in Mumbai (formerly known as Bombay), India.