Train of thoughts

Hey Folks, I'm extremely happy to share that my poem has been published by 'In frame' magazine in their website. Thank you, InFrame magazine for this wonderful opportunity.  Do check it out and do share your thoughts on the same :)  https://www.inframe.co.in/the-chettinad-palace/ Love,  Swetha.  

Concrete Poetry A  spark  of hope,  so thin and  bleak; the pale  luminous streak,  filling her heart  with immense warmth;  a solace amidst the dark  abyss she was consumed  by; instilling a belief  in miracles; lending  a form to divinity  and purity.  And,  the golden hues with a tint of  blue, making her heart flutter  with every little faint flicker.

I peek through the half-drawn curtain,  The view, making my heart skip a beat;  Tint of blue and green, making me yearn,  For time to pause in this divine retreat;  Plants in my garden, swaying in ecstacy,  To rhythms of the patter of raindrops;  A cuckoo bird singing her quaint melody,  The cooing of pigeons perched on the rooftop;  Wet scanty land, devouring the dribble,  Graciously embracing the touch of sanctity;  Stealing my heart, little by little,  Capturing it in my soul, for eternity!

Image credits : Unsplash Vibrant hues of metallic silver,  the radiant gold dust shimmer, and the blinding light sliver;  A few moments later, I wake up from my slumber, Alas, its all my stupor, Now, the light grows dimmer,  Hopes getting thinner, The sparks begin to simmer. 

Image credits : Unsplash I. A forlorn feather Sitting by the rock with a face of forlorn hope, the girl stared into the far misty horizon. A white wilted feather landed on her shoulder as though caressing all her burdens away; The feather then fell on her lap, her eyes lingering on it. Frail, yet regal; dull yet mystic, juxtaposing its own self in so many different ways. A smile crept on her face, so pure and tender, as though a revelation had hit her! Slowly, a sense of tranquility overpowered her sorrows like the sky at sunrise, devouring the darkness.  _________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

This poem is an ode to all those people who went unheard. Remember that it requires a huge shift to deviate from a parochial mindset. It doesn't happen overnight. One step at a time. Over time, you break free from the shackles. Let us remember that every unheard phrase is a lost perspective. Every lost perspective is a lost opportunity to explore.  Image credits : Unsplash  Constantly stifled and chided for stating his mind,  His voice was subdued by their conceitful notions;  Distraught and broken, he now yearns to be heard,  And his silent screams beseeching to be heeded;  Shackled and tormented in the prison of his mind,  The unspoken words plead for their liberation;  With the ghastly abyss taunting and engulfing him,  His mind calls truce, unable to accommodate chaos;  Shutting his eyes, he hopes for a better future,  Devoid of choked voices and muffled opinions. 

Image credits : Unsplash A few people enter your life and add a certain iridescence to it. They don’t necessarily end up becoming your romantic interest or your best friend. They might remain your acquaintances or most often than not, they happen to be fleeting clouds. You lose contact with them; you forget them and you move on with your life. But the impact they create in your life is elusive yet important. The perspective they offer, the casual conversations you have with them and the little beams they brought to your face remain unforgettable. A few years later, the sudden mention of something reminds you of that certain someone and an instinctive smile creeps on your lips. You take out your phone and rigorously tap away their names on all the social media platforms one could name. Scarcely, you’re lucky and you reconnect with them. But generally, all your efforts go in vain. They only remain lucid memories you cherish forever. So, a name did pop up on your head, didn't it? :)

Wake up to your capabilities,  Overcome your inabilities; Secure your headgears, To overpower your fears; Stride ahead unfettered,  Soar up high like a bird!  --- Tap, spin and swirl,  Letting your sorrows unfurl; Hum, sing and croon, Unperturbed amidst a typhoon, Smile, laugh and grin, Through your thick and thin!

The pink ethereal skies during dusk,  Etching a mural in the welkin,  The little yellow dandelions swaying,  To symphonies of the soft breeze;  The v ivid green grass – wet and scanty,  Redolent of the musty smell of petrichor;  The distant dimly lit lighthouse,  Flaunting its color of enchantment;  The placid, bottomless waters,  Creating a moment of tranquiliity;  Nature blending its vibrant hues,  Giving birth to a mystic paradise...  

Our Minds 'A fathomless riddle; An expanse that often seems indescribable; A guardian of secrets that were stashed away and forgotten forever; And the only beholder of our profound introspection. Solar Eclipse The radiant sun adorning a veil of the glorious moon; Outlining a regal crown, leaving Earth shrouded in darkness...

Image credits : Unsplash I'm filled with dread as I stare at a blank piece of paper, with my mind creating havoc. What if one day, I lose my ability to articulate my thoughts? What if I'm unable to pen them down to accommodate more chaos? What if words no longer come to me when I beckon ? What if the pen no longer remains my weapon? I shudder at the thought of being incapable of expressing what I intend to; I'm afraid, one day, I'll be unable to exploit my writing to move a soul or two.

Image credits : Unsplash Every time there’s a certain void, I experience spine-chills. Terrified, I close my eyes to calm myself. There it is. My ‘safe haven.’ It isn’t a ‘place’ but usually a seamless memory tape that I hold close to my heart. --- 'I’m four or so. Everything seems to be beyond my comprehension. I hear the patter of the raindrops falling on the surface. The musty smell of petrichor fills my nose. It’s a dull afternoon with no sign of the sun and the skies oozing of melancholy. I see an image…an image of the wooden door to my grandmother’s house. I’m standing under the shade waiting for the door to open. It seems to be an endless wait. I stand there in front of the door with a lot of questions and no answers.' This memory keeps coming back to me time and again. Is it because I miss her? Is it because she left us before I could know what she thought of me? Is it the ‘vulnerable me’ seeking strength from the brave woman who fought all odds by herself? Befo...

Image credits : Unsplash Amidst a lot of chaos, we scurry from the start to the finish line  Striving and yearning for success, we’re filled with zest  But when everything crashes, we hear ourselves whine,  ‘But God, why me? I did nothing but my best!’  Constantly seeking success and an end result that is fruitful,  We don blinkers and hastily speed to our destination  Seldom realizing that the journey is by itself the most beautiful  And everything is over by when we come to that revelation.  Someone great once said, ‘If life throws lemons, make lemonade’  Hey! If it doesn’t throw ripe ones, make pickles from it.   Adapt and adjust! Cause nothing in life is tailor-made  So, whatever comes our way, let’s be calm and not throw a fit.

Image credits : Unsplash Dear 2020, Our dear Dr. A.P.J Abdul Kalam had different plans for us. He predicted that we'd be a superpower in the global economy; he spoke of progress. But all I can see in the papers is the 'India' that is teeming with virus, poverty, mishap and nothing good. Having started off with the dark cloud of Covid-19 that loomed us, you have been nothing but devastating. Could you get any worse? I don't know if I can even keep count of all the bad things that you have given us. It seems so unfair. Everything seems so unfair. That wretched Covid-19! I badly wish Pied Piper of Hamelin was alive to lure this Covid-19 to jump off a cliff and fall into the abyss. I badly want the lockdown to end so that we can go back to being busy and stop reading the papers. With ample time in our hands, we have started paying close attention to everything that is happening around this world. The rosy picture that I had in my mind has vanished and all I can think of,...

Image credits : Unsplash Have you ever wondered about this? Sometimes, people drift apart due to distance or disagreements. But, a certain memory of that person stays with you - be it a close friend, a colleague or even your childhood crush. A vivid image or a memory of that person is what you cherish, hold close to your heart and occasionally even recount. It remains and ‘that person’ is the person you’ve known. And a few years later, you bump into them. You have a few forced conversations and reconnect with them with the pre-conceived notion that they’re still the same and then, it hits you hard. You realize that they’ve changed. But, hold on! Isn’t ‘changed’ a pretty subjective word? Changed could mean that they have evolved into an incredible person or it could mean otherwise. True, what I mean by ‘changed’ is not the core of that person. Undoubtedly, even with the passage of time, they tend to retain certain traits, habits and principles. But what disturbs you indeed is the chan...