Varchaswi Putcha

On some storey and on a roof-top
And on walls and on parapets
Murmuring and munching
speaking, swirling
...

I surrendered all my words to birds
Lost all my feathers of dialects
except chirps of bards
...

Drawing one's painting or portrait is a sacrament pious
It's an ensconcing the throne of Lord, the Creator
It's a re-moulding by the Creator
A true exposition to a brush's enigma
...

I walk
behind her rhythm
My eyes plant there
like a tattoo!
...

That thing slithers and unfolds into hoods
and crawls around your neck, alas,like a noose!
As if breathing ignorance and hissing arrogance
it sneaks its way on your torso in haughtiness!
...

By now, what is well known to all is Covid
What pounces unbeknownst is also Covid

Pandemics in yore were person-centric
...

A wafting zephyr suddenly hit hard my heart this dusk
Made me peek into the window to find nature's brusque

It's the bouncy virgin rain hitting my flower pots at balcony
...

I splashed high
some sapphire hues...
they made the sky!
...

Let the crowds pelt stones in huge numbers
and let the enemies slice
the bodies with daggers
that may not inflict injuries
...

I know him as a kid
Close to my heart since childhood
With his unique and articulated voice
And with the affectionate moonlit eyes
...

I ask that restive parrot jingling and jarring
to sojourn there a while on its bough, swaying

I demand that royal swan sashaying in the welkin milks
...

You have traces of capturing time
first in the fists of fetus
It's an inexplicable enigma
Known since your empty mouthed smiles
...

We, the poor birds know
That you keep us always in low
Have you ever tried twittering with parrots?
Ever shared your words with sparrows?
...

Just have a siesta
You will get a way-out
Yes, a way-out even in the
thickest of the thicket
...

All the ferries pretty well
go asleep in the lap of a river
musing those bustling
twilights of yesterday
...