What does a border mean?

 

This poem is not a celebration

Somewhat  a deliberation

 

Often I have listened to the episodes of strife and hate

Narrated by my grandfather, the stories that never fade

 

About communal riots, separation and humiliation

About plundering, mental torture and frustration

 

I was a listener, so I drew my own imagination

Supported by the chronicles in movies and animation

 

I never understood the ‘why’ of it

The effects so sad, but what was the ‘cause’ of it?

 

National fragmentation and mutual disagreements

Joys and sorrows are the same, so are heart, blood, and sentiments

 

They look like humans, so do we, they behave like animals, so do we!

So, time to pause and ponder, pushing through a lack of clues, 

why this war stigma stuck to our minds like the flu?

 

Well, borders have only meant geography to me

Marked purposefully on the map

 

It breaks my heart locating divided pieces of land, 

because the books of geography and history

narrated plightful, horrific stories

 I am a clear-headed millennial born in the year 1989

I ask you, why these borders? What’s my crime?

 

This poem looked back, to many funerals and cremation

To each their own interpretation!

 

 

Popping Flowers of Glory

(Image Source: Fine Art America)

Those handful seeds                         blended in the soil

Turned into breathing bushes
With ever-widening roots

Promising a future
To me, you and every other creature

Popped out blue lilies, and yellow tulips
Rosy reds, purple orchids, and white jasmine

Every flower infusing a unique fragrance
Filling the air with floating perfume

How beautiful, it is to inhale this air
that pushes thoughts of wisdom
and sow yet another seed of freedom

Self Love

(Image Source: Fine Art America)

I chose to wear hot-pink lipstick

I curled my hair a bit

though stayed in my pajamas

romancing Rhett Butler in the novel

I bestowed upon some self- love

Before stepping out

I wanted ‘not to change’ my skin color

With a dab from foundation stick

I painted myself in self -love

My baby, who ran up to me

For 10 times on repeat

She blabbered the same words
Her smile evident of ‘self-love’

When I could get angry, or sad
laugh hard, or just lay flat
I indulged in self love

Chucking off those silly conventions
Fearlessly adorned that badge of 'misfit’
I confided in self love


Not taking his abusive shit ever again
I rose up and walked off
I idealized self-love

They asked,
Why so mean?
Can’t you be selfless?
I answered, “It’s self-love”.

Given a choice to exercise
Would tell them a difference between
Ego and self-love


The more these words echo in my mind
The better it feels, yes!  one of a kind

Self-loving folks, I clap for you
Bow down and relate to you
For to love another, first

Smile at the image in the mirror

Amid Lockdown

                                

While talking in my head

An argument persists

Many a plans are dead

Still the talks I can’t resist!

‘Family’ the newly found folks

Chatting, sleeping & cooking galore

Realised we all stayed in the same block

Watching news all day, nothing more

Neighbours, I hear them in & out

Every time their cooker whistles

While I snack on my sprout

What’s cooking? I can’t find out

I like stories on ‘Instagram’ more

Amid lockdown, liking all posts

Dusted the bookshelf and did chores

Damn! eggs in the pan just got coarse

Made boring lentils and never ate

Clicked a fancy picture with salad

Applied three filters sitting with my mate

Life is a story itself, or a ballet?

Waiting for godot, yes I am

‘Dear Namo’ come assign another task,

Waiting desperately, yes we are

Here your people, suffocated of masks!