An unequal reaction

 

An unequal reaction

 

It is a sudden thunder as a family is out  for morning walk . The children squeal with delight on the inevitable possibility of getting drenched in rain today, for they have brought no umbrella.  It is early morning and there is no canopy to protect themselves from the looming clouds.  In contrast to the thrill of kids, their parents are worried on how to avoid the inevitable. There are early morning supply vehicles at best that come to sight on road.

From there I can see this family as my truck stops at the traffic light as they proceed from zebra crossing . My family is also struck in same rain and situation.  My children are chirping but not in joy. We cannot even run the way we want to amidst thundering clouds. Actually we are struck imprisoned . Everytime there is a blasting sound we all shriek . The cantering  drizzle now begins to gallop . I try to stretch my wings to cover the little ones but we are all stuffed and stifled in this enclosure . I can’t do much to save anyone .

The other family gets a taxi thankfully and they speed  . My truck also reaches our next destination which is a meat shop. They unload all of us amidst heavy downpour as we shriek with unbearable pain and fear,  unable to ward off the inevitable.  Our crate gets hurled in air as we get toppled over each other . Meanwhile in the taxi the children of the other family have been able to convince parents for a day out at an adventure water park where they can enjoy joy rides . Their family also gets tossed up similar to ours but their shrieks are full of fun.

An ominous hand stretches itself inside our home and decides to pick my child owing to his freshness and soft tissue . The little limb can hardly battle for itself while I am struck up in a heavy throng . He is dragged by whatever comes within the hold of a giant fist . Then he is held upside down by both legs and carried to the shop, swinging from side to side , almost swooned in this joy ride. Only the poor guy will not live to tell the story of this Sunday outing . Then he lands at a wooden plank with a thump , his heart bursting and his breath failing . We all gasp at this sight as with one swift blow of expertise his head gets chopped , ending a very brief but sweet breath gets smothered , shriveled before the petals could blossom. This is ironically the longest glimpse I had of him, for we were born slaves to live clamped and to eventually end up on platter . Hence it did not matter how we spent time when alive as our fate was already decided by humans . Here and now one of us had just met humanitarian fate.

The other family eventually reached home at evening , excited at the fun they had in the day. The father unwrapped a surprise food he had got to end the already amazing day. The dead one was poured into a large bowl . Bon appetite!

 

Bhimtal

11.40 hrs

28.5.23

 

On the shore ,at last !

 

 

The wrinkled brow now eases

As does it's image echoed by sea

The thump of a  vexed heart

The troubled tides of turbulence

Now a deep sigh releases the pain

The marks of a brutal pinch

Incisions on hardened hide

Are soothed by the thought of shore

The sight of birds in sky

That spiral and create constellation

The word amidst shattering tides

That the shore would come sometime

Now turns out to be true

The troubled faces that belied

The assurance to those onboard

And more importantly to sailor himself

Now smile at the pretence

And then we realize that the horizon

Was never unreachable

Even on a capsized vessel.

 

Delhi

2064

09.36 hrs

21.5.23

For long at the threshold

 

It has been quite a while

After the bell was rung

The spurring eagerness

Now pokes into stillness

Elongation of shadows

Covers the bright cheer

The wait at the mast

Is perhaps the compulsion

When there is nowhere to reach

When we go astray wave after wave

Our origin is a blurred horizon

So is the destination

And the entire sea around us

Jeers at the befooled compass

With his ever clapping waves

Only it's better than to be Capsized

So we stay afloat , staring at door

Long after the bell faints

Now the press at the switch

Rings nothing , we realize

Only our anxiety had so far

Created sounds from within

One peep into the keyhole

The room is full of strangers !

Who look like our dear ones

But they do not respond

To our pressing knock

And then the strangers die

All this while we forget

There was never a door here

Only a faintly perceived threshold

That has kept us away somehow

From what we feel we are .

 

Delhi

11.31 hrs

2063

14.5.23

 

 

The taste of water

 

 

When the sea pours into a cloud

Thr grayness of the sky Stretches

Today it has devoured every wave

To leave a dried up salt below

The glitter of jewel now basks

The slime turns parched in open

The turquoise and the green vanishes

For the whisper of water is voiceless

While so far I stood on the echoing shore

Trying to pick one layer from the other

Eventually all life ends into the skies

Leaving salt in the devastated eye

The words freeze and only memories swarm

The unsaid word , like a wasted seed

Full of unsown promise and wasted season.

 

The waves that have now filled the sky

They move the still clouds

Crash into each other even in heavens

Her smile still erupts in the lightening

Sometimes mom pours her pure blessings

Into the dried up cauldron

That creates an unseen and unfelt brine

And pours out from the eye .

 

Delhi

2062

09.38

5.5.2023

 

 

 A guy was  good at puns ..led a dual life..after all it was a punner janm