Magnetic tug of war.

(M)aybe I was blinded.
(A)ll the signs…. Did I ignore?
(G)ot me feeling stranded.
(N)ever saw this happening to my own.
(E)veryday I was cautious then.
(T)o keep away any pain.
(I)n the process I forget that,
“(C)ould be” is not in my hands.

I’d like it to be certain.
But uncertainty…
Is what makes life (within).
Draws me in. Scares me away.
And pulls me to the side.
The magnetic push and pull..
And tomorrow wins again.
Let’s hope…. It’s worth the while.

Unfurl… ing…. Unfurled.

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This is everyone’s story.
Some unfurled.
Some unfurling.
Some yet to unfurl.
The things they saw.
The things you see.
Things we will see.
The bright or dark.
It will be shades of light.
Perhaps green and pink.
Like little roses, you see.

Colour popping for sure. Nature is art!

Grainy art piece.

I do not have anything original for the prompt so I am featuring an actual grainy or, to be technical, powdery but super creative piece of decoration! These are generally made on the floor on festive occasions so here is something cultural for a change considering how festive these past few weeks were. It is called Rangoli and this is not related to Holi. That rhymed. Holi is the festival of colours, where you get covered in colour not make art. But this is an expression of the fun and frolic.

Credit goes to “Unknown”. If I am not wrong it resembles a parrot.

Another rangoli but this one is made with flowers and candles instead of synthetic colours.

Rangoli could be flowery too. All credit to my friend Tonya for sharing this piece. Although this kind of design with “lights” is more common in Diwali.

Ambling

I found it on my walk. The monsoon is making Mr/Ms. Snail happy.

 

Leave me alone… I am outta here!

Hey Mr. Snail, out on a walk?
“Did you just assume my gender?”
Errrr, I mean Ms. Snail?
“I am a he”
Oh hi, He.
“Stop it smarty pants”
Oh, okay.
“Let me breathe. Can you not see I am here ambling?”
That is some amble you got there Miste……
“Watch it…”
Myste…….rious magical-talking-snail.
“Good save kid.”
______________________________________________________
You have got to be careful. Anything can be offensive (nowadays).

It is a symphony.

 

The best thing you could do for a creator is to immerse yourself in its creation.
-Insach

Waiting and waiting.
A pause before it’s my go.
Ticktock ticktock.
I am a little bored.
Distracted by what I see.
The scene outside is pretty.
Oh, silence running away,
Much more interesting…
The heavens are in chaos.
The earth seems ready.
Sun casually shies away
Takes a blanket so dark.
Suddenly,
It’s quieter than the night.
Here that??
Trickle, trickle.
It is pouring just right.
One little drop on that leaf.
Another one,
Shatters against this glass.
United again at the bottom.
Never forgetting its task
The dog also knows its drill.
Watches happily
Nature is now painting…
Green looks greener.
Trees are in sync.
Windows today are artists.
That lighting does
Make it frightening.
Smells different.
Looks different.
Sounds different.
Feels different.
I did not do it.
You did not do it.
The performer begs you…
Don’t bow down.
Just immerse yourself
In this symphony.

Fogged up.

Fog does look good on windows though.

Dusty but it is something  😛

I love winters and also the fog but when it is monsoon and you get out of a cool air-conditioned vehicle or room into the open – the hot, humid, wet climate, the first thing that happens is that your glasses get fogged up apart from the obvious wetness everywhere, it is quite annoying and at times embarrassing.

What do you do? Do you take off your glasses and wait for it to get acclimatized? Haha actually that is exactly what I do. It is a nuisance with no actual solution.

Another thing in the monsoon is unpredictable rain. It rains when it pleases, getting drenched head to toe and mostly toes because the roads and pedestrian are flooded and waterlogged even when it stops pouring but that is not the problem.  You get used to it. The real problem is not being able to see through glasses. Honestly, the dripping water droplets look good only on windows not on spectacles.

Close to the sun.

It stirred something inside of me,
Distant future becoming reality.
I could now clearly see.
Had I known this was my fate.
I’d have had a different gait.
A little slower or perhaps swift.
But I was caught in the drift.
Could have plucked a few flowers.
Made more memories.
The taste of haste made me devour.
No trail did I leave behind.
And all that I possessed,
Some I couldn’t carry.
Some of it I just buried.
Now when I am closer than ever,
How do I share this feeling?
I see it as vividly as the sun.
But I blink and it slips away.
The dream is real, it is here.
But is this the new me?
Left with this one thing.
This close to the sun!
It’s only blinding and burning.
Why win to lose?
I’m losing to win.