Cascading Emotions English

O wingless bird of my arts! Fallen from the nest, Take the strength of my words, Fly in my prose and verse. O sapless pen of my thoughts! Dried from the dread, Nib into my veins and clots, Inscribe on paper in blood. O merciless pain of my body! Let me slowly perish, Dwell and cherish the vault, I render you to flourish. O needless cry of my soul! Bereft of your audiences, Rebound, return and lie, Buried with mute senses O pointless compass of my life! With all magnetism lost, Who provides you solace – Mountain, valley or grass?

                                                                                   Photo from personal files Today she has taken the reins  Of her soul, mind and brains It is a real feast to behold her  Once again playing with paints There she sits with her heart Filled with creativity, wit and art Now I hope the white canvas Of life will turn into colorful cart She shed her gloom and despair Surely time does heal and repair Every insult, injury, scar and fear If you brace up, face, fight and dare  It takes courage to fight the battle Of raging fires within one's self And win one's dreadful demons Unbolt, tame and freeze them to shelf She is a synonym of courage A genius of creativity, a sage Grit, guts and gallant surface On ceding agony, angst and rage So relative are losses and gains! Firmament of her entity she reigns I admire her caliber and resolve To steer through tosses and turns

                                                                            Photo from personal files -- Shaggy It was the 3rd of March 2019. The memory of that day is so intense that it is totally unforgettable. In fact, year 2019 itself was quite taxing for my family, so was it for him too. My cancer was taking its toll mentally, physically, emotionally, and a great deal financially on the family. Obviously, my ailment and resultant joblessness were dragging the whole affair into a negative direction. At the same time, he too was aging and needed a lot of medical, personal, and emotional care, which despite all efforts was not seeming possible, and we three were (my wife, daughter and I) definitely feeling deeply guilty about it. Struck badly by such grim situations, despite all medical care possible, he could not sustain the unintentional sinful neglect and finally broke. It was around midnight. With his lower half paralyzed, constantly licking his lips, and trying to get up and mov

    --These are the last emotions of a soldier for his beautiful lover. Unfortunately, their love could never be culminated.                                                                                      Flowers of Palash (Butea monosperma) wait! before you take me to her lane tell me if she still stands for me in the balcony and just pretends to clean that windowpane if her long thick braid still touches her knees and its color still reminds of the mahogany  if the coils of her curly hair still kiss her virgin cheeks and, into her cleavage, the morning dew still quietly sneaks if she still eagerly waits for me at the threshold  for it’s me whom her spry eyes want to behold if the wind still notoriously blows up her gown and she bashfully holds the frills and sits on ground if the royal poinciana still blossoms in its full bloom and fills the emptiness of her terrace and cuts the gloom if the butea still flowers in abundance in her courtyard and borrows hues from her divine count

                                                                        Photo by Andrea Piacquadio on Pexels I know I am the reason  Of all your glitches and failures, Yeah! Successes you treasure Fate did the treason With all my hopes Now I bleed through All my nerves and holes Tied to the bed with bloody ropes Rotting with cancer for years But it’s okay, you don't shed tears ‘Cause it’s I who flawed everywhere  But tell me, did I fail to always be there And take you somewhere? Oh! I did the crime of you having Terms always on your dictate Didn't shut your mouth to laugh, sing or debate Or pull your legs from taking any test Friends envied you so much To always be the best You took pride in shadowing the rest Hovered like an eagle to snatch Success from everyone’s nest Expected too much from yourself And demanded too excessively from life Never happy and wanted to change The ways of the world that ran rife Only a perfectionist can match How you strive Now here the catch lies I

                                                             Photo by Steve Johnson on Unsplash I have not written anything for the last 10 days! Though it is not a very long duration, I honestly tell you it is killing me..., but why? I mean why should it upset me so much in the first place? Is it just because I have been in a writing mode for the last few months, and fortunately enough I have been on Medium with a few of my pieces published on it? That definitely provides a sense of achievement and satisfaction, but come on! Sometimes, I interrogate myself, “Have I ever been a writer in a true sense?” The answer has always been equivocal, maybe yes, maybe no..., don't know! It is probably because of the on-and off-ish nature of my writing. I can proudly state that I started writing at the age of 24 with more than 70-80 poems under my belt at the time within a short span of one to two years; however, as the mundane priorities of life took precedence, the warrior within woke up to h