The Greatest Friend In The World

A father, a mentor,
A student, a teacher,
A source of joy,
Of pleasure and of love.
He stood by my side
Despite the shifting tides.
Yet battered and worn;
My only source of hope,
My only place of refuge,
My only true friend.

The Silence of Others

Rubber against asphalt, leather against concrete.
A blanket of smoke, smell of people all around.
All the madness, all the chaos,
The concrete jungle.

Cars and bikes, buses and rails.
The roar of horns, the voices of men.
Footsteps and chatter, as the crowds gather.
Running after time, (yet) always out of time.

Side by side, but never together.
A sea of faces, breeching and linking.
All in silence, (yet) the noises persist.
The noises that make the silence
(of) The people already gone by.

Game Over

The bullet whistled past, just inches from his face. John dived for cover. By the time he reached for his gun, the dark figure retreated in the shadows.

Drenched

Seeping through the threads
Crawling o’er the skin,
The cold sets in.
Soaking in the rain.

A contrast of senses,
The exterior in confusion.
Almost a transformation,
The world above and below.

Turbulence ensuing, the world outside,
An o’erpowering calmness inside.
Immersed in melody, (a) sea of emotions,
As I was drenched in the rain.

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Cover photo: Rain Room, 2012, The Museum of Modern Art, New York, NY ©Random International

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Submitted to Daily Post prompt: Water, Relish, Transcript, H2O, Liminal, Ambience & Posterity

In the Rain

Billows of torrent
In motion, perpetual.
The darkness looming behind.
A sea with no tide, an ocean with no life.

So bored in class

A poem has to rhyme
So the following lines will rhyme.
This is just a way to pass my time.

This teacher is boring me to hell.
How does she have so much to tell?
I just can’t wait for the ringing of the bell.

Crash

”We‘re losing height. I repeat, we are…”

The alarms were screaming incessantly while the dials showed the worst possible news. The massive Russian-built aircraft was renowned for its reliability; but that even that plane was doomed.

“I repeat, we are losing altitude”

An Old Friend

July, the third

The day was fresh like a splinter in his mind. It is always painful eye to eye when you both know that only one is going to make it. Captain Hari Singh and Colonel Mohit Chawla were inseparable since they were first assigned together on the Russian-built Ilyushin II-78 MKI R Cargo Plane by the Indian Air Force. During a routine transport mission in the Kashmir region, the aircraft suffered a catastrophic engine malfunction and their plane was headed on a collision course with the Himalayas. The major was

I Cried

Through and through
Her cry drilled through my ears.
Body, mind and soul,
Nothing could bear it no more.
Almost deafening,
Brought me nearly to tears.
Somebody please kill me.
This, I just can’t take anymore.

Whispers in the Wind

So how long has it been? A decade, a year, a month or a day? I stopped counting. For days seemed to be all the same, lost in some cascade of hope and despair. But for all I would know, it’s been just a day, clear as yesterday when you said we weren’t meant to be. That my ambitions wouldn’t take me anywhere and that you were tired of being stuck with me. And yet, you seem to be still here. Did you too get stuck despite all? I wonder what you say to the new guy who dances with you now. Same things you used to say to me? The same old promises? It’s strange. You were never much of a dancer and yet, look at you now. What happened to the girl who used to shy away when I wanted to dance with you? All those years. Guess people really do change, don’t they?