Nishtha Trivedi Poems
- Strings The finger moves, the strings stretch, with a ...
- Walls Brick after brick, a barrier builds, a concrete ...
- Time Tick-tock. The seconds fall as heavy footsteps; the ...
- Family Even in the darkest of nights, even in the most ...
- Silence A mere evidence of nothingness, of ...
- The First Day Of Winter The sun's warm glow smiled every day...
- Solitude Amidst great gusts of wind I stood, captive, in ...
Click here to add this poet to your My Favorite Poets.
Comments about Nishtha Trivedi
The finger moves,
the strings stretch,
with a smile plastered on his face,
the puppet obeys.
Its limbs moved,
and pushed and pulled,
and the puppet made to obey,
to comply with its master,
by simple strands.
How, I wonder,
this little charade works -
that thin threads in those unworthy hands
come to possess a power so great?
A power over another being,
over his body and his actions
but most importantly, his mind
enslaved mysteriously by one,
earlier disguised as an equal,
but today, his puppeteer.