PATIENCE

Its another once upon a time story. Have patience and keep up the good work, it will get you through the distasteful stretches in life.

A pot, sand and a green plastic stem,
Brought home from somewhere, left in mayhem-

Source unknown, mysterious perhaps,
Sat on a window sill, by double pane glass.

Come summer, come winter, it didn't feel a thing,

For no roots, no leaves, untouched by spring.

Once it lived in a world of class,

Now stares at it through panes of glass...

Oh !! What do we know,

Wood, plastic, hope, despair, home and spade-

Everything in life is so man made !!

Hours and hours, he would sit and glaze.

Down and beaten, until these days-

When beside his reflection, he found as he pried,

Signs of life on the other side !!

A green so green, he felt a bit green,

Not mean, not lean, just neat and clean.

Two worlds on rubbles, no love for bubbles,

No strain on the strings and hence no troubles!!

The more they shared, the more they cared,

Feelings layered and a story flared...

Sands in the pot felt a strong clench,

As the fresh sprout roots of plastic entrench.

Nights grew late, with tales so great-

They'd both relate and cross correlate,

Of sands and scalpels, of songs and lore,

Of losses, of judgement, of candy and more...

With words they played - all day till late,

In joy of meeting this true soulmate.

So far, so good, we've done the happy part.

I'm forced to finish with a weeping heart.

Creators destroy and the destroyers create,

When it's hard for them to make worlds conflate !!

Thus love subsides to the wills of the wise,

But what is life, without risk and sacrifice ??

Behold !!

The brave soul arose, from the plastic instead !!

Transcends the double glass, clearing the shed,

Meets his Tulsi, fulfills their dreams,

"A heroic legend", the garden screams !!

Tears of joy makes way for laughter,
Fairy tales end in happily thereafter...

Oh !! What do we know,

Wood, plastic, care, passion, love and suede-
EVERYTHING in life is not man-made !! 

Flowers and tears

So many words left unspoken, die . . .
As the grief sets in late, after the bye;
Need a shoulder, just to bend over and cry.


Sincere tears withheld in pain-
Masked in happiness, doped in smiles.
Search the faces, look for the eyes-
So much for cliched  perfunctory slys!


Sinful creations, with glorious glitch,
We are no more than the textures we stitch.
Lie to your self, put up a brave face,
Withhold  the subtext with blabber and slays!


Its only just a matter of time
Before you break, at the last words you hear.
The mysterious, chained self, new to himself,
Seeps out for once, beyond the weak knobs,
For a second or two- no more can afford,
So he's played along and dramatized for the fun.
A treacherous plot, a well entertained suicide . . .


After the bye, it sets in late
Look for a shoulder, yourself u hate.

Fairy’s fiction

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Fairy’s fiction:

       Every man is a human and so is every barbarian. What distinguishes these two, is the way they react to things and the things they react to. One such factor to discriminate them is help. A barbarian will not help you if he feels that you would grow taller than him with that help and if it happens so, he'll just ruin you...

(read b/w the lines and analyze)

Friends, comrades, and all those with spears,

Hear me for once, with sharpest ears.

From whence hath principal time began,

I come, the naked horse!

Unknown to world, and unknown of it,

He lived a lonely life.

He raced the wilds, unshackled and strong

No flags, no laurels, no frown.

Exposed he was, as defined he is,

Anodized by circumstances;

Till once he met with, one day at rocks,

A charming diabolic fox!

Nothing so luring has he seen

Than those jaded eyes!

The foxy fox inched in close

To the perplexed naked horse and said:

“Friends we are and friends we’ll live

In this ‘friendly’ world of mine”

With words of enigma, the dude of charisma

Got him christened ‘Black Beauty’

Hemlocked he was, strengthened he felt

He smelt the taste of life.

It so happened, that later in time,

Habitually he met with him.

And then the speeds increased like hell-

Worthless oceans foamed and swelled

Conscience was lost, compassion lost,

But lots and lots and lots were won!
Full fledged he grew in space and time

All he saw were checkered flags

Perfected he was, perceived for it,

For longer days and nights…

But nobody saw the schemer’s hands,

Nobody cried: “Behold, behold”

And nobody knew, the foxy fox

Had foxiest goals in the foxed up world.

The next sun rose with a different smile

All horses ready, all jockeys ready,

And also ready is the gentle fox-

Perfidious within, but still merry merry!

Storms triggered the torrential rains,

Blinding blitz showed up in skies

And thunders wrecked the country side,

To mark the race of nation’s pride!

A gunshot was heard, a rumble heard,

But all we saw was a cloud of dust-

And then we saw a streak of glow

Out came blazing ‘Black beauty’.

For once it seemed none else had a chance

But not so far was oblivion…

He crashed on, into the magical wall

Never seen of before, or after anymore.

The Mercurial Horse was smashed and bent

And curled up into and invertebrate.

So there he falls, the horse naked

Defined as exposed, anodized of purities.

All his titles and all his charm

Sublimes beyond all reclaimations.

All he heard was galloping from far-

All his opponents, grey, white and black

Churning the pre-churned clays on the way,

To touch the un-churned with an un-classy sway.

An undeserved forfeit, a death for the valiant!

The sobbing martyr, groaning in pain-

Victorious losers dragged him through streets

In the midst of the town they gathered round

Turmoil crowned and crowd profound

The foxiest fox now swirls his wand

Before the eyes of the swooning knight

Emerged lions with eternal might

From each of seven opponents bright

Surrounds the tethered goat to fight

“Behold what a pretty sight!”

Hectored and tortured, heckled along,

The martyr dies a second death!

Sleep deprived, self pitied,

Isolated from social eyes,

Leading a loony disharmonious life

Lives the horse, in shadows of night.

What goals he had, what dreams were seen!

He barely stands, no might within

A long faced ass in silent tears

No trophies of pride, no loud cheers…

And there they coalesce, the ‘he’ and the ‘I’

As defined before, in everyone’s eyes.

“I never did this for fame or attention,

All I did was to chase my passion-

I hate basking in the glory of gone years

So friends, comrades, and all those with spears,

Fire me as an offender

Mark me as an outsider

And hang me as a dictator,

For I am, I was, what you thought I was.”

-Vivek S V