Sunday, 29 July 2012

Colors of Hate & Love

Colors of Hate & Love: 

Purple Drought

When the purple umbrella flew from her hand,
I knew she loves to get drenched in the rain,
And I jumped over a puddle with glee.
What a frog can do when a princes doesn't see!
But what is to be seen in the ugliness of a frog...
I kept mulling, clouds kept drifting away.
A cyclist sped to retrieve purple dove;
She thanked and smiled and the sun came out.

Meteorologists since then declared it a drought!

Taking The Lake Side Road

He works sometimes for long hours in office.
Then rambles back home that’s not far away.

After-rain hours of a late summer evening
A movie was played in the dark open space.
With Swamp-Pool Philharmonic’s background score,
Crickets et al. playing to the beat,
The beat of beating a body with a mallet
Staccato of shrieks: a shrill human note
Silence of a dead, momentary then gone
A frenzy of voices briskly receding
A rustle of grass towards the lake
A splash in water and a burp of gas
 A way of the bog saying bon appetite
The dark was enough for the cast to hide faces
And everyone dispersed as if the show ended
The title was saved for the end of the show
Broadcasted as an afterthought in collective consciousness:

In his terrace garden, enjoying morning tea with his wife
He picks the local morning newspaper
‘Front story is horrifying! Oh god!’
‘What’s it? Read it, won’t you? Or summarize?’
‘A crazy man after an altercation with his wife
Went out to burst the head of a sixteen year old,
A girl in neighborhood who needed to be saved
That’s what he says and believes that he did;
Saved a pretty angel from turning into a hag
That his wife was, that they all become one day,
He says, he is the savior!
His wife says he is nuts, didn’t do it,
He is simply upset, when he is, he makes things up.
Upset that he saw the girl fished out of the lake,
And a Jack the Ripper lurks somewhere in the dark, freely,
But police took an honest man who has not eaten food since last night.
She requests news men if they can help her,
Smuggle to her husband some oat cookies.
The crime has happen sometime around yesterday evening
Or so police surmises from the post mortem report.
That’s when the road adjacent to the lake is quite busy.
But policy has found no witness but a man
Claiming to save the girl in his own weird way.’
‘The man is really a devil, hates his wife so much
That hurting her is not enough a revenge!’
‘Case is not closed yet, why to presume.’
‘The city is going to the dogs!’ She says.
He hates mallets, he thinks, while his hands imitate the grip
And his eyes drift to the wrist watch. ‘It’s eight!’ He Jumps.
‘And I am going to the office. Its eight o’clock already!’
‘Don’t take that lake side road or don’t go walking, take the car’

A timid hello!*

A timid hello
To a furious friend
No excuse or
Familiar rant

Broken promise
Shaken faith
Rising temper

‘I’m notta fool!’
‘You’re no saint!’

Drooping gate
Cowering gaze
Sorry face:

Hope my pal
Will forgive me
My aloofness
My restraint

Passion roars
Behind floodgates
Cache of love
Red effervescent

Opening key is
Your command
Gently, softly
O’ my friend

*This old stuff that I suddenly recalled; people write all sort of things when they are drunk in love, LOL! So Here I am, posting such a sentimental stuff, unabashed :-). Call me pachyderm, but I am just counting those who are madly in love, so they may willingly lower their guards and enjoy it. ;-)

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