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The Last Ferry

Thursday, February 16, 2017 10 Comments




The prisoners of Caca Island

"Ah! I can see the land
and smell the fragrant soil.
seems we will back to home, soon."

Remarked the petite Bhuvan, pointing his fingers to the coast. Bhuvan was among the many other immigrant labours returning that day from the faraway Caca island. years back they have left their homeland to find a good livelihood to sustain their poor families at the famine-stricken part of India. 

Kaali Handi, as they called it in Orissa. It is 68+ years post Independence, yet the country was still struggling to find independence from poverty, hunger and many such social evils. Today was no different.

Bhuvan, along with other workers who went around the globe and Saudi Arab were returning back to the country today. The life looked rosy outside but the reality was nothing like it. They struggled not just for wages or food in that foreign land but they also struggled for their identity. They lived like rats in dirty, decaying human godowns and were tortured by their masters. They would work 20 hours a day, yet could manage a very meagre salary. 

He often wondered that when he is not differentiating the land that is giving him his sustenance, why would the citizens differentiate? He could never understand the point of difference or the rift. He worked there for thus long until one day he could not take any more. He was beaten black and blue at the work. Fault? Not worth mentioning. He went to the beach to drown his pain and cry his heart out. 

He heard the announcement of a ferry leaving the coast. It was the last ferry for his homeland. He wasted no breath and ran to board it. I will be home soon, he told himself. But whether it will be his home too? He asked himself. Unsure about the answer, he sailed.

"A human is not a trademark of a land
he is an inhabitant, a co-habitant.
The land is the deity,
mother nature that he worships
irrespective of the boundaries.

Brothers do not divide their parents,
you keep the ear portion,
the hand portion is mine.

So then why do we differentiate
Mother Earth?
for its Ember always smells divine".


________




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Fashion the Soul

Thursday, February 09, 2017 10 Comments

She was dressed in her bare essentials.
the asymmetrical layer of her body shape
peeping out, uninvited

she threw a hopeful glance
trying to gauge a glimpse
craving to be found
and loved.

all she gathered were unfriendly stare
try to scan her
upside down
judging her from the dress she wore
the label she flaunted
the faux style on display

Ah! such a pity
that she was dressed in a normal robe.
no flashy jewellery
no contouring, no strobe.

the frenzy pushed her aside the hall
to click pictures 
with fancy surround
and the celebs around.

This is the world we live in
real human are secondary
but the showcase is profound.

beauty is often found, in the smallest of details
start from eyes 
and
stop at the heart

your behaviour is your mirror,
mirror of your character
statement of your persona.
fashion it in right mound.

No jewellery can hide its flaw
no style can cover
the ugliness within.

It is your character that speaks
100 words, quite and loud!
_________________


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Hi Folks,

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The Hangover

Sunday, February 05, 2017 3 Comments

She loved the tangy flavour,
that instant kick
 the alcohol embed in her
throwing cautions to the wind,
she drank unhinged,
uninhibited, upswing, bottoms up.
perfectly floating in ataraxia.
It was a perfect escapade!

The Juggernaut woke her up
vapid next morning
with a severe headache
and a fulminate hangover.
Girl! Such a short-lived fun.


____________

 I have written this 55-word poem for Real Toads' Flash 55 plus Challenge and For Three Words Wednesday [Tangy, Vapid, Unhinged].

It was a quick write up and fun. Hope you like reading it too!

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Hi Folks,

You heard me...now its time for Bouquets and Brickbats!

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