Thrown

THROWN

Years have been spent, sitting together, they have never missed a click with each other. Along with him, a cachet of importance has been almost naturally inherited. 

With every passing moment now, however, the anxious chair hopes for the door to open. Heavy with despondence, in no time a thin film of dust has managed to accumulate under it’s nose and the air inside has started to feel heavy and still. The agenda for the month, printed and delivered; the speech, to hook in the hoi polloi, rests restlessly under the paper weight-ready for enactment. The wall dotted with flashy smiles, framed ambitiously, stands testimony, of a height well climbed, all marred, however, by the mischief of an errant star.

Sampurna

Change.

CHANGE, but who will bring the change? 

"I heard the government will, no no, I heard people will".

"Who are they?", someone asked.

No one knows, once they were close, very close, working hand in hand. But with the age of google coming in, they have grown indifferent to each other.

CHANGE  is all set to come, but who will call him? GOVERNMENT or PEOPLE? But they don't work together anymore.

Now the creepy, cloggy, sticky,  ageold enemies can attack better. 

And what will we do? We will hope the other one will take the step. 

SAMPURNA

I cannot write

I cannot write...

I cannot write, I think.

The thousand tears that I have shed,

Could not find ink in my pen.

How can I claim to write then?

I cannot write, I think.

As my words never brought  you back to me,

It is only the frame now that I can see.

I cannot write such that could speak my frenzy.

My insane gesture and this restless composure.

The grey of my mind, dripping all the night!

I cannot write to dissolve the distance,

And the hollow that has engulfed me. 

Finally I have broken my pen.

This was the last, not again!

Sampurna