Starting Over

“Oh Look, it started raining mother”, Adriel spoke with sheer happiness. He was convinced that this would put on hold or even better call off their plans to meet Dr. Len, but finding surprises has always been his strong suit.

She did not reply, he called out one more time, but still she did not reply.

He went in to look.

Kaya had been working hard as a mother and a receptionist in an ad agency. Things have been hard and life a little difficult after Josh died. It happened that morning, that dark morning, that’s how she describes it. She loved nature and knew the drill which it’s various associates namely, sun, moon, trees played every year, every season, every month, but after that day, she barely remembered as to why she was so in love with nature, why she ever thought of sun as god’s ultimate gift to earth, and hailed trees that only belong to the soil,  pretending to sacrifice their movement to foster mankind.  May be her doubts were an aftershock or may be she never really understood how rough things are around, outside her small solicited heaven. But she had reasons to believe, to blame and curse nature for it’s role in the misfortune, for she felt cheated, felt unsafe, for she had lost her husband to the dark morning, when the sun was playing, hiding behind clouded shackles, dim, and trees meant to stand, lied proudly on ground, silently as his car hit the trunk on road and rocketed off the hill, the repercussion an aftermath, a tragedy. A man died that night and so did the belief of safe havens. Continue reading


The poem is accredited to” The Thursday Think Tank“. Writing a poem, untitled, empty mind, no pre-plan, just accord with as-said time.


TIME throttling my MIND


Setting clock for divvied time,
with passing seconds, forget the rhyme,
in summers of blistering sun, chained,
free rein, breeze at last, today it rained,
oh! yes, I’m alive, let me text a friend,
no Armageddon to world’s end,
had planned “cold steel” ere bed,
watched “water for elephants” instead,
world of circus, life’s poignant scent,
“stallions of steel” on hold, at present,
but my mind, empty like puppet’s,
owing to winging hour, subduing brainy circuits,
cannot tattle anymore, unparalleled score,
rent me some more, I will talk, for sure!

Symphony of Rays, double rainbow

This poem is an experience of a “double rainbow”. I did take a little help from science as you can find here. I would like to link it to Poetry Potluck for this weeks challenge on “color, spring and rainbow”.

Long time, the past winters,
laying on my bed, after the night’s blabbers,
closed eyes, dark to red it gained,
a shaft of light onto me, eyes opened like its debut,
hand over eyes, adjusting,
and on the top floor, I met “spring” by the window.

The sun’s warmth felt on my face,
looked at the parallel window and ran to it at pace,
stretched my arms to the horizon,
drops on my palm, falling as in one,
mesmerizing as if Eden,
and on the top floor, I met thy “heaven”.

A little science struck me then,
the rain, the sun, the light,
‘water drop acts like a prism’, I said,
jumped to the balcony to glare the view, ahead,
to my surprise, not a rainbow,
but on the top floor, a “double rainbow” stood thereby.

The symphony of the rays reverberated from drops at pace,
cascaded in skies, an array of colors to embrace,
rain step by step ceased,
the charisma gradually trailed,
colors languished over time,
and on the top floor, I rejuvenated the chemistry of “spring, rainbow and color” as rhyme.