Friday 20 February 2015

Sound of voice

Have you ever listened?
To the sound of voice?
Not the words that blanket it.
But to its raw texture,
The husk, or the smoothness that coats it?

The firm, or the lank tone
The sugary taste, or the hint of bitterness that lingers on
The subtle notes that cling on its ends
The way it glides -
Floating swiftly like a fluid
Or erupting into quirks of turbulence.
The soft edges silently ending its trace
The echo it leaves behind as it obliterates.
The way it stirs the air around it
And defines the meaning of words.
Have you ever listened... to the sound of voice?

Words, they
Merely envelope the core
Like the body does the soul
Smudging the border between.
More so, like an extension of the life inside
But definitely distinct.
So have you ever listened
Distinctly
To the sound
Of voice?

Friday 2 January 2015

Reflection

Your light on me
Your thoughts on my mind
Your smile on my lips
Molding me from within.
It changes the basics
Of my origin
Something underneath
That defines me.
A dreamy glow
Lamps of yellow
Your eyes
The perfect mirror.

Ray- The Firefly

This is about a character named Ray, in the animated movie, The princess and the frog.

Once upon a time, in the middle of nowhere
In the quiet marshes of an unknown land
Where beasts could talk and trees could walk
Where the air was full of magical spark
There thrived a swarm of beautiful fireflies.

At twilight, the darkest time of the day
When the last traces of Golden start vanishing from the sky
When the birds return to their nests and the owls set out
When the Day bids adieu and the Night stretches her arms
And takes everything within her black velvet cloak,
The Fireflies would light up the lovely little shallow
And bring to it a new life, with their brilliant yellows.

The little lamps of light danced in the chill of nights
And brought warmth in the hearts of all things alive.
They danced with the innocent dears and also with the sly crocodiles
And made friends with the harshest of the harsh and deadliest of the deadly
For every living soul loved the fireflies.

The pride of this swarm, the reason for mirth in the air
Was a jolly old fly, called Ray.
Be it the gay days of summer or the chilly nights of winter
Ray could always be found with an ear-to-ear grin on his worn out little face.
With his cheerful ways, no creature was ever gloomy in his company.
He always had a solution to every problem and a kind ear for everyone's tale.

And so, Ray had a cozy place in everybody’s heart; but his heart- well, it was stolen from the beginning!
As every tale goes, there was a pretty gal who had the attention of our guy.
He sang for her and hoped to dance with her one day
And bestowed all the love his heart could hold on her.

He called her Evangeline, his Evangeline.
‘She can hear me, you know’, he'd say and get lost staring at her, each night.
Me and her, we can see each other only in the nights; but we are in each others hearts every second of our existences, he’d blush.
And so, each night, he’d read her stories and sing her songs and keep hoping to hold her near and make her his.

Evangeline was quite.
She always seemed far away, sometimes even indifferent
For she was nothing but a speck of light in the mighty blue sky.
For the rest of the world, she was a star; for Ray, the rest did not matter.

And so, our lover boy lived to hope.
That she was real.
That she felt his love.
That she loved him back.
Nothing ever came close to shake his belief.

Life had to go on, and so did Ray.
With hope strong in his heart, he fought through life.

One unfortunate day, a catastrophe hit his beloved shallow
The Ruler of the Dark, the Devil himself
Walked his home
And threatened to finish two of his best friends

A fierce friend that he was, Ray fought for their lives, not caring for his own
He succeeded in saving the lives of his friends
But not his own…

Never had the shallow been so sad
Never had the predators and their preys cried arm in arm
Never did the Night seem so unbearably cold
Just one Light less, and the world went dark…

He seemed happy, as if calmly asleep
Very much content, of having done his job
Though he did not shine, his dead heart was the brightest thing that Night
And the smile that he smiled on his death bed of leaves, for the very first time brought tears to everybody’s eyes.

Maybe he found his Evangeline, they said smiling through their tears
Lucky Evangeline, someone sniffed
He sure as hell did, someone yelled, pointing to the sky
And sure enough, there he was…

Right next to the speck of light that everybody called her
Just as bright as her, or maybe even brighter
Twinkling in the joy of having had his dream come true
Was Ray, the Brightest Firefly…

Me and her, together forever, he’d always say
Nothing could separate them both now
Tears of joy flowed from everyone’s eyes
For Ray had finally found Evangeline, his Evangeline…

Thursday 23 October 2014

The alternate hypothesis

Illusions and realities
Two sides of a coin.
A pinch of luck by your side
Like all random events
Got you an illusion.
Presumptuous You
Termed it reality.
The other side
The alternate hypothesis
Equally probable
As tangible as your reality
Stays unconceived.
Imagination, hallucination. Whatever.
A figment of your inner wilderness
Because somehow, you seem to know
It was there... Almost.
A pair of twisted events
A.K.A destiny
That you could have lived
The alternate hypothesis.

Tuesday 9 September 2014

The meek bee

A meek little bee
Set off zestfully
To explore the big wild world.

She loved the bright colours
But couldn't figure out black.
She relished the sweet
But cringed at the sour.
She made fancy friends
And stayed well away
from the wilderness.
But when she landed on a thorn
She was clouded with despair.

But one fine morning
She woke up brave.
And dared to see
what lay beyond the mist.

When she stretched her fragile wings
To test her strength
And embrace the fierce reality
She stumbled upon a sight purely surreal.
For wonderful was her world.

She could make peace with black
Learned to live through the sourness,
And fell in love with the wilderness.
For she realized that something that's
Bare
And raw
And wild
And intense
Just like her emotions
And love
Is purely beautiful.
Just like her soul.

And then,
She flew!
With the strength of a million mountains.

She loved.
Cried.
Stumbled upon a lot many thorns.
Got herself bruised.
But learned to make peace.

She flew.
She lived.

Saturday 15 March 2014

Someone like... everyone

Free as a bird
Wild like a tornado
Fierce as ice
Add to that the stance of a lioness.

Mirthful like yellow
And streaks of passionate red
Flirty as the effervescent Pink
But mature as Black.

But what no one can see
That which she keeps hidden
From the glare of the seemingly ruthless
And the irrevocably shallow
Is the mere fact
That she's plain. Simple.

The warmth in her to comfort the harshest foe
The Pink turning a shade of blue
The classy Black, blending her in
And patches of gray devouring the yellows.

Dual personality disorder - one may laugh off
But there's always more than what meets the eye.
The tip of an iceberg - hiding away the true magnificence
-Is that not how each one of us is? 
Leaves in autumn; rich.
Red, yellow and aging
Beauty personified
Fall.
Clusters of a million flaming reds
Lit like a pyre.
A pretty picture.
A sight to behold
And let it assault
Your senses
Until the snow
Carpets it all.
To create a new reality
Of a transition.
Absorbing the blazing hues
Into its magnificent white.
Cold.
Yet pretty.
One more sight
To behold
And let go.