The quadrille #25 challenge piqued my interest with its word limit of 44 words to write a poem on 'dawn'. So I penned this. I hope to read your feedback on the same as I really enjoyed writing it.
Image borrowed from the internet
Constant cacophony of
callous cuckoos cloud the horizons of my consciousness ,
I seek the
shimmering rays of the sun
to build me the moral compass to navigate the gnarly
waters of life.
Strangely enough
the darkness beneath my eyes dawned the light
within me
It has been a long while my friends since I
wrote anything in this space. Never has an injury to my right hand (which I
have had one too many of ) affected me as much as now. I am impressed with the
hunger I feel to write.
I used to be called callous, insensitive
Was never happier.
The minute I started to give a damn
The tragedy started.
The tragedy called life
Where people you used to love
Became completely different persons
So much so that
You think you wanted a disclaimer
That things could go horribly wrong!
But maybe this is the disclaimer
For the next time.
Writing all this, I look in the mirror
And see a completely different person
Than the years before.
Role reversals
Shape shifting
By the tendrils of time.
I want to be who I was
And also who I am.
A dollop of darkness and a drop of
sunshine.
Aloof and caring at the same time.
How to achieve all this
When I can’t even tie my shoe laces on?
And to my poets united friends. The post came before the motif. So the explanation maybe a bit contrived. So my take is that this piece is an appreciation of the effect of time upon our lives.
So a regular reader and friend asked me to write a piece on romantic relationships. A more specific one actually but my mind meandered to this. Purely fictional for intents and purposes. An artistic piece if you can call it that
At my lowest they are insurmountable
challenges that I look up at , with more awestruck worry than inspired
determination. Being a fretful diva , I tend to feel that these imaginary
mountains are firmly embedded on my tired shoulders.
I hate their stupid hairpin bends , which
give my already motion sick tummies a valid reason to unburden themselves. I
have a distinct memory of myself , a 7 year old shutting my eyes very tightly
whilst hugging my dad’s lap as the auto went up the mountain. Like the
tightness and resultant blindness has anything to do with my body’s capacity to
deal with the stress of travel!
Oh how I hate the mountains.
Then I climbed a hill. By myself – 2 years
back? Symbolism and travelling aside , they do have a plus. They have peaks!
The exhilaration you get when you reach the
top , the air feeling fresher than it was a couple of feets ago.
The panaroma! Everything looks small from
the top. It gives you perspective , humility – which I lack in abundance.
If you can feel that up a hill , you can
definitely feel it up a mountain right?
I don't know why I trekked but I am glad I did.
But Mountain is also the dude from Game of
thrones who killed Oberyn Martell!
So maybe I have mixed feelings about
mountains.
I
scaled a huge mental mountain today. Scaled one without giving up , a bit
battered and bruised and I am definitely feeling the high xD but what happens
after this? Climbing down can be slippery , definitely if you’re taking the
surfboard called fun down it. Imageries aside, being a beach person I wanted to
thank all the mountain people who helped me in this climb. I didn’t necessarily
enjoy it but it was an adventure nonetheless. Thank you.
Hope you all enjoy the high too. Think
about that if you’re climbing a steep path yourself.
When is one truly grown up?
He said "When you're more than five feet tall"
She laughed at her seven year old cousin.
But it got her thinking.
When puberty hits?
Was biology even a factor?
Then she recalled all the adult shaped boys she had come across over the years ,
they thought a bit of facial hair signified maturity!
A guffaw should still make sense
however hot and deep it sounded.
Not like she felt very adultish herself.
She had the biological numbers
She did have her own place
and took her own decisions
had romantic interests.
Was self sufficiency the key?
There are quite a number of 'adults' who earned
but who didn't appear to be in control of anything.
Maybe it is all an appearance of self assurance.
Nobody knows what they are doing ~
Life keeps throwing curveballs at you
but you don't even know how to play baseball!
We are all just trying to walk on water
Never figuring life out
and pretending to be an 'adult'
Never appearing to lose control ,
I think losing your concept of what you are
and trying to explore who you are is the first mark of adulthood.
Not piling on premade store bought identities marked 'grown up'.
We all think an 'adult' is someone with a family , job and etcetera
but most of them are just kids who were thrown at the deep end of the pool
very fast
That they appear to be floating with head barely above water
and eventually learn to not sink
is not the slight bit endearing.
Why can't they be swimmers who learn all the skills or
Maybe they wanna scuba dive or sail in sailboats
or maybe they wanna fly .
Who are we to decide who adults are?
To me an adult is a person who knows who he/she really is or has a clear vision of who they are going to become or who atleast admits they have no idea and is working towards it.
A person who makes their own strategy for life.
Till then we will be forever young
and confused.
"People who abruptly change the name of their blog and not follow it up with a post for a month , are people who don't find a place in heaven" - some old scripture of some old religion
This has been the worst two months of blogging output , quality and feedback for me. I couldn't write , whatever I wrote was so bad that I had to delete it or forever revert to draft and my abrupt name change made a sharp decrease in page views. Yes , lack of pageviews affects me.
I I am still not in the best zone for writing , but any more procrastination will render my blog extinct - the possibility seems more real than ever this time.
< To all those who
are surprised by the name change:-
. It was done to keep the blog ‘fresh’ ( It is
nearing 5 years now)
. Semi’s Stories and Sharings…! was just
sounding very juvenile and self-obsessed , two characteristics which the blog
will be trying to break from in the very near future.
‘Steady Meanderings’, this name came to my
head in a sudden flash when I was trying my hardest to concentrate during a lecture.
And since this blog is an aggregate of sudden flashes in the pan, I hardly
doubt this name.
I hope
Steady meanderings
promises to put out quality posts, while quantity will be determined by outside
circumstances. I've been hearing feedback that last two posts weren't great. My
posts are a reflection of what I've been up to at a point of time or what has
been cooking in my head for a considerable period of time. An essential
contradiction eh?
Talking about
essential contradictions, I've started a group blog along with three other very
talented people (very unlike me) and you can check it out -Ã here.
Talking about the
quality of my posts, they were flashes in the pan gone wrong. Good seeds with
bad germination, execution gone all awry. However, Steady Meanderings promises
to do none of the other things.
OR else there will be
another name change and we would be lost for all eternity. >
Steady Meanderings will be steady in creativity , if not output. So , we are beginning this new innings with a flash fiction entry I wrote for a recent competition. The prompt given to me was "I'm telling mom" and I had to write within 150-200 words.
So what did I write?
Neil Patrick Harris
"I'm
telling mom"
"tell
her what?"
"That
I love you"
"...but
you have to tell that first to me , you freak. "
* his
face flushed a beautiful Bengaluru tomato red*
"
Didn't I just? " he asked a sly smile brightening up his crazy ,
mischievous face.
"
But ..but..."
"
But what?"
" I
am a guy" he replied his face aiming to encompass all the fifty shades of
red.
"
So am I? So what?"
"
Being gay is illegal in our country"
"
Baby it doesn't matter" He gave his worried lover a reassuring smile.
"
Just because I'm fictional doesn't mean it doesn't matter" replied his now
angry lover.
" I
don't care, Neil Patrick Harris. I am telling mom that I love you."
What would you guys write with the same prompt? It would be nice if you all actually posted that or something else in the comments column ( I know that the comments process can be a pain , but it makes me a writer infinitely happy when his/her reader leaves a response or feedback to their post. And I am in urgent need of infinite happiness)
