There was a parakeet on my terrace -
Colourful, chatty, caged.
It looked not sad;
In fact, it looked content...
A little resigned perhaps.
So, a fine day in spring,
I thought I should set it free.
It cooed and cawed and,
Perched on my fist,
Towards freedom
We marched.
The sky was a frothy blue,
A heaven for avian flight;
And yet, on my fist,
The parakeet sat,
Gazing up,
Sans a flutter...
Until it dawned on me,
That freedom was a lesson,
My pet had yet to learn.
And I stood staring at my bird
Wondering when 'I' had lost my wings.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
To Friendship
So moved am I by random things,
That barely do I pause,
To reflect in sync;
Order has lost it's music:
It is much like the broken string
On my father's old violin,
Left to it's piteous fate
In a room which used to be his.
A thought,
A pause,
Another thought...not quite siblings;
But I feel their smiles -
They are friends -
And friends make music,
Even when
They look for none.
That barely do I pause,
To reflect in sync;
Order has lost it's music:
It is much like the broken string
On my father's old violin,
Left to it's piteous fate
In a room which used to be his.
A thought,
A pause,
Another thought...not quite siblings;
But I feel their smiles -
They are friends -
And friends make music,
Even when
They look for none.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Some thoughts...
Some thoughts trickle down my window pane,
Hand in hand with the monsoon showers.
The rain I can touch,
The thoughts I cannot.
So, with blind eyes,
I feel...
Until, with the rain,
They disappear
Beneath the blue forget-me-nots
At my window.
Hand in hand with the monsoon showers.
The rain I can touch,
The thoughts I cannot.
So, with blind eyes,
I feel...
Until, with the rain,
They disappear
Beneath the blue forget-me-nots
At my window.
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