She sat on the chair,
Half inclined to turn and run,
The white reflected in the mirror
Her tresses golden and amber.
Never realised that writing poetry
Could be so fulfilling;
All you need-a pen and paper
To vent out emotions overflowing.
Waving she stood on the threshold,
her husband and children on the road,
her elder to competition quiz,
blessed her with a smile whiz.
Cupid's invisible arrow poised
to pour out the potions of love
into the unwary souls of the destined
And change their lives forever..
Reminiscing down the memory lane....
The years loom up to flash back..
the beats of time gone by,
The many ups and downs that we had seesawed,
Sari- a traditional Indian attire;
to enhance fragility and femininity at its best;
for the sexiest form of homo sapiens!
Yards of soft woven thread-
A girl intelligent,
Inquisitive by nature;
Answers to questions unlimited-
She expected from mom always! !
He didn't ask for a feast of delicacies...
Just a mouthful to quieten his rumbling belly, .
The pangs of hunger spreading fire
burning a hole in his blurred vision of better self.
I am a three legged chair placed
in a corner,
unwanted, handicapped and
unnoticed in an auditorium...
Just an ordinary class room,
the ground floor room,
to the extreme west
of a cbse affiliated nest.