Have you ever noticed all the sounds around us? The crackling of spices as they are thoughtlessly thrown into the hissing oil. The whistling of the pressure cooker as it tries to make its presence felt. The persistent drip-drip of that tap you've been meaning to fix since summer. People shout to gain your attention over … Continue reading Th1rteen R3asons needed?
Thinking about cooking up a storm?
She says she doesn’t know cooking
So there is no use talking
Of techniques or flavours,
Or aromas or colours.
The only thing she gets
Is the food on her plate.
Yet she deep fries her lies,
And seasons it with tears.
And sautes to develop
The flavor of her fears.
A quick blanch can soften
Her tough cold heart.
And if you roast often
Everyone’s a piece of art.
She sugar coats her anger
Before baking it with vengeance.
Dollops of added hatred,
Oh! What a sweet indulgence!
She might find the kitchen
A foreign territory
But still she’s a certified
Master Chef of misery.
From the corner where he stood
On his one-legged pride
And tattered spirit,
He saw her fight
The demons that crept up
Her slender thighs
To trap her in a nightmare
That would never end.
He found her beautiful.
Despite the dark glasses
And the tap-tapping stick
She managed to glide along
The roads where angels feared to tread.
She burned brightly
Even in the darkness
Till all he could remember was
The tingling sensation in the eyes
After having stared too hard
At the bright glowing sun.
Behind the lines of
Her happy place,
She looks around cautiously
For gaps through which
The undesired might creep in.
She knows that
A solitary tear can break
The dam that she has built
So carefully to withhold
A past that should never have been
And flood the future
That she spent all her life wishing for.
No, that would never do!
So she armed herself
With the useless pages of her life
To stuff the crevices for
As long as she could.
For she knew
That though she was happy now,
Good things never last too long.
I don’t think that my life had really truly begun until the day I fell in love. It was the most beautiful moment in my life and of course it defined the rest of my days. Till the day I met her, I had only been a wanderer. Not only did I not know what I was searching for, I had no clues where to look for it. But there she stood like a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow – holding all the answers to my questions in the palm of her hands as she beckoned me forth.
Physically, there was nothing of great significance about her beauty. Even if I had been a poet, I would have found myself extremely pressed for words to describe her appearance. She was one of those people who grew on you with time. For me, it was her shining…
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Human beings have evolved a lot over the ages…but have they really?
You might have changed your view point
From a horizontal to a vertical plane.
Yet everything you say reminds me
That your point of view remains unchanged.
You may hide behind labels and brands
Your cruelly twisted frame of mind.
But no matter how trendy the clothes,
It can never conceal your dirty soul.
You sacrifice my pride on the altar of greed.
A repeat performance, till I finally yield
Something more than I need to survive.
Another chapter in his-story – that’s my claim to fame.
Wrote this over a year back…when I was still new to this world.
We met under grey skies and a black umbrella.
We both agreed that you were special and so our friendship bloomed.
You conquered hearts with my words, which I joyfully supplied.
I gave you my trust, but you lied. You lied.
You stamped all over my confidence just for my benefit
Left with too many warnings and no pride – I was bound to be a misfit.
You treated me like rubbish and thought I wouldn’t realize.
Well, better late than never – you’ll be surprised
To know, I disagree.
Wasn’t it predictable, that anything which started
With tears running down my cheeks was already doomed?