The Brave Warrior

Amidst fiery battlegrounds,
Where wolves roam free,
She stood brave and strong,
Facing squalls of envy.

Fearless, she drew her sword,
Unnerved by deathly winds,
She charges ahead with vigour
Swiftly within an eye’s blink.

‘Twas a battle of filthy lust,
She fought with hallowed silence,
Wearing armours of virtue and trust
To end this smutty pestilence.

With fair grace did she lodge,
The pennant of pure victory
Though death she couldn’t dodge
But immortalised in human history.

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A True Tale

Did you hear the cacophony,
Of men burly ‘n’ wearing tights,
Who swore by common ancestry,
In mature yet mindless fights?

Over sour ale did they chatter,
Questioning the fancy regime,
That gave not a full platter,
But doses of a hollow dream.

Their fists they banged with might,
While the tapers flickered with fear,
To an uprising that was alight,
For castigating the pitiless royal tier.

With pitchforks, axe and spade,
The bastion they stormed in a flurry,
With a war cry of profound hate,
As the horizon blazed with fury.

“Execute ‘em all”, they roared,
Dashing the china to smithereens
Stagecoaches and satin all burned,
Ending the loathsome regal reigns.

Man of Thirty

Sharp and graciously refined

Walking with steps speedy,

Symbol of elegance well defined

He is a man of thirty.

 

Sporting a bonny coiffeur

And a suit so royally navy,

Shoes shining like silver

He is a man of thirty.

 

Apple of his friends’ eye,

Candy of ladies pretty

Always with spirits high

He is a man of thirty.

 

Echoing a boyish charm

His laugh breaks all monotony

A personality so deeply warm

He is a man of thirty.

 

Carefree yet so matured,

Values and emotions saintly,

Making you feel assured.

He is a man of thirty.

Cast Away

Time has stood still today,

Frozen with thy words, mocking,

Crude ‘n’ coarse than dried hay,

Spewing deep hate so shocking.

 

Etched hastily on this pasty note,

“I dost not any love for you”,

‘Twas a verdict you wrote

My life into shambles it threw.

 

Was I a tawdry plaything?

An article of fleeting pleasures,

Cast into the alleys stinking

An object worthy for beggars.

 

Sweet words of fancy passions

Thy promises of endless ties,

Were they mere pretentions,

Thee uttered in our love nights?

 

In faith my soul I pledged,

Surrendered to your free will,

Your wish with grace I obeyed,

Yet to befall this ordeal.

 

For thee I shall though wait

Through the eternal realm of time,

Destiny cannot but join our fate,

‘Cause the heavens know you’re mine.

Argument

A series of mindless words

Or a string of illogical logic,

Creating a wrangle so garish,

And a situation so tragic!

 

It’s a nonsensical verbal combat,

Or a mind game, as they say,

Of twisted thoughts and ideas

Leading to a sense of disarray!

 

Opinions shared by one and all

Sweared in the name of democracy,

Creating mayhem – sane and intelligent though!

Dabbling in anger’s purple fancy.

 

Vulgar and convincing,

Tis a confession of highbrow impotence

Leaving nothing but an empty trail

A pitiful sight, a mere pittance.

Mellowness of the Dawn

The blessed sun of spring

Bloomed with mellow beauty

Evoking innocent feeling

Of love, peace and serenity.

 

As darkness bids fond adieu

To morning’s golden haze

Blue birds twittered notes a few

To usher this pristine phase.

 

Gentle breeze hugged the trees

And whispered secrets of life

As flowers in a bid to appease

Stood to greet the merry wife.

 

Sunken eyes that opened wide

Gazed with a dreamy guise

Unnerved of the wordly chide

Lost in a lover’s paradise.

Breaking the shackles

Ever since he was a child, Aditya had hated the rains. Not only did the dull gloomy weather give him a horrible headache, it also dampened his mood. A feeling of suffocation used to engulf him the moment the dark clouds loomed over the skies, all ready to pour over the parched earth.

He used to watch his friends clap and jump with joy when the sparkling drops of water with their grandeur fell to moisten the arid land. But for him it was some kind of torture that he was being subjected to.  The very sight used to make him feel low …it was as if the rain like shards of glass pierced through his heart and stole his spirit.

On such morbid days, it was a common sight to see Aditya either spending the entire day in bed, or sitting all by himself, lost in thought about the most obscure things. The monsoons were his biggest enemy. A vague sense of irritation, frustration and other negative emotions used to consume him. It was like a curse that had been cast upon him for life.

But today it was different. As he sat by the window of the bedroom of his rented accommodation, a strange sense of joy seemed to seep through his heart. He placed his finger on the window and gradually traced the path of a water droplet as it made its way from the top to the bottom of the window pane. He could instantly feel the goosebumps on his hand. His lips quivered, but he somehow enjoyed the entire sensation.

He gazed at the silver showers intensely, trying hard to locate each drop of water as they landed gently from the skies above. His heart started beating with excitement. A strong urge grew in him that kept repeating, “Make the move Adi. Go for it.”

Unable to control his emotions any further, Aditya dashed out of his house barefoot into the road. He stood there with his arms wide open, his head tilted up and eyes closed. A slight smile emerged on his lips. He could feel it. He felt his spirits become one with that of the heavenly waters. He stood there trying to soak in the merriment while images of his friends clapping and enjoying moved rapidly in front of his eyes.

He had done it. He had broken the curse and befriended the enemy. The shackles of the torture he had been subjected to were broken. A deep feeling of pure joy, and peace descended upon him. He was no longer scared. He knew now that there was nothing that could come between him and perpetual happiness.