Urban Blues- A Poem

In this urbane nest you dwell:

Amidst the skyscrapers, where live in the sun tan fearing population, do you see
The bricks moulded by those rusty hands ,
Of the sun-scorched migrants
Blackened by the chimney exhaust?

On the hoardings, do you see
A dejected young man
Drooping on his table, the pills spread out?
The creative loner drugging to spark ideas in absence of sleep,
For a presentation next week?

Of the cars that glides smooth
Do you see that solemn driver
Marred by the uncomfortable silence
Of the fatigued couple, entangled in a nasty, felonious fight of a young girl suddenly coming
In-between their 25 years?

On the driver’s side,
His thoughts tossed by the loss of the education he couldn’t complete?Dampened by the happiness
To his family he couldn’t give?

In the young boy slumbering uncomfortably under the buildings,
As the drain stinked the humid air,
While he
Drowned in his own sweat and tears; And, the sweltering heat,
Do you see the A.C water dripping
Near his feet?

If not,
You, my sweetheart,
The happiest dandy rose of all,
Are sure tucked in your urban nest.

Living as anybody wanting to.

As they struggle like nobody wishing to.

Melodrama Of The www. Validation

Reality is a lovely place
But we need more fucking happiness;
Onboard we travel into this virtual maze
Popping daily pills of the internet.

People seem to blanket their life’s mess
With filters, white-smiles and their radiance
Yet, the backstory seems to be off-place
That we’re all hyper-connectedly lonely, merely craving for solace.

I wonder what would have been
If our distorted presentation
Of the snippets of our glossy-messy life’s amalgamation
Struck us with a realisation
That we are floating in an ocean of our imagination.
Our minds’ make-believe construction.
To seek social validation.

Just to believe our life has a meaning

Determined by some clueless behind the screen.

Aao chalein pahaaro pe, digital detoxification pehle karke :,)

Limericks

: Me:
‘Diti wrote on her hands
And always with a blue pen
About things that she never remember.
So, when the to-do-list became longer,
BLUE TATTOEs were on her body all over

: Jyoti:
There is a girl named Jyoti
When nervous, becomes sweaty
The day when she didn’t bring her note-copy
In her sweaty-salty river drowned everybody.


: Amrita:
Amrud had a face that was pitcher-shaped
Truth, sweetness, and courage she always had
So, when the class bully asked her if he was bad
Then, Amrud, the lion hearted,
Among all the peers, bravely nodded.


: Krish:
Modernity met traditionality
For the girl who never forgets her cultural history
I sometimes wonder how she maintains her sun-tan fearing beauty and studies
While juggling, on top of it, prose and poetry.


: Sreenidhi:
Sree had halo-ghostly looks
Sat in the class’s shadowy corners and nooks.
For friends, she dived into the world of satanic books
God-forbid, she isn’t reading about bhoots!


: Deeksha:
Deeksha had surging, hot, hot, terribly hot rages
On small topics, for minute phases.
So, the next time I mocked her
I did make sure it was near the freezer.
But out of control went her anger
So to cool down her temper
I finally had to call a fire fighter along with a power ranger.

More upcoming

Oh i met the girly girl to the rowdy ones, and i loved all of them

Bijni

I yearn to go to Bijni:

Where joy corresponds to an open sky

Dotted with fleeting clouds

Leaving a trail of pink dye

Where the leaves dance and sway

As a nostalgic gush of wind

Knocks every being on its way.

The vast stretches of sky ends

At the sea of mustards and paddy

The skittling breeze drenches you

In an unrecoverable serendipity.

The slanty, criss-crossed grills don’t block

When the sun pecks my cheeks.

And that’s why:

I yearn to leave the city

And dispose here my body

Because when the evening breeze strikes me

It carries my soul to Bijni.