poem

Break

As the innumerable specs of dust

Adorns the dark walls of the sky

Countless the bubbles dancing, desperate 

To fly away from the water — ferocious

The scatter of ants buzzing away

As you drop into their equilibrium

The sandy rocks that roll down in haste

From atop the bite into the cookie

The blot of resilient colour in water 

Dismembered; piercing into molecules

The one white that paves light 

Torn apart to a band of seven 

Lying sharp, filled with glistens

From the past that as you step; slices 

Into you, leaving stained footprints

My heart that bleeds sugary syrup

Bite into the jalebi’s orange circles

Every step ahead that pulls you back 

The aroma that refuses to exit nose

Pictures dance past you — out of reach

The decibles that echo through ears

Shattering the bloody glass walls, weak

What keeps me alive. Today. 

Illustrations by Sitara VS ©
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poem

Dead Sea

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Not a concerned drop of water,
In this ignorant dead sea.
And to nowhere can you flee,
With water water everywhere.

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food, humour

Fish?

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Everybody knows that you don’t drink water after you eat fish! But nevertheless, the fish shall have its revenge. No matter what.
Let’s take fish fry for instance. It’ll go all the way to your stomach, and the food and water you gulped down with it, will be like doctors who say, “The patient is very critical now, he/she has sustained 89% burns.” And then, the nutrition you so rightfully deserve shall be snatched from you, and used up by the fried fishes.

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If you think that fish curry is safe… then nooooo. Think again – they are worse. They’re fishes in water! They race down your oesophagus, and once in the stomach, start partying. Party all night, party all night. Well, not all night – they drink,dance and make noise (that’s when your tummy vibrates).

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And when all the food is over, only still water left, they’ve had enough. They make whirlpools inside the stomach, hit the walls – till you feel so uncomfortable that it is all expelled out of your stomach and flushed down the toilet.

poem

Flow

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You contain her within your limits

You exploit her to her very essence

You leave her to die

But come back when you need to survive

You build walls around her to conserve her

But who will protect her from you?

You restrict her very nature

You pollute her, and call her impure

Your chains make her

A dying disaster

She flows through you

You know her love, but not her wrath.

The storm – The flood – The hail

But she will not end alone

And you will not kill her, it is your need.

She will break free from life

And there will be no one to save you

Because she is no more

And neither will you be .