The Anchor

“For how long do we wander? Until we’ve found home? Do we know what leads us home?”

 

anchor

 

 

As I sit under a lonely roof, on a usually empty couch,

I wander on my musings and my distorted ability to vouch.

Conquered a world of dreams, yet not me, within,

travelled half the globe, when the reality weighed in.

 I was left to fly, left to soar my wings very high,

until I turned around to find, none to say goodbye.

Massive ships drifting o’er the seas, yet secured at harbor,

petty me, dwelling to no purpose, but none found to anchor.

Just like hope needs a deserving soul for shelter,

all I ask for is a person who stops me for better.

 

 

 

 

Serendipity?

“Serendipity simply stands for a happy accident. Serendipity is the need of the hour. Serendipity is what the human race needs.”

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Consumed in a world, detached from substantiality,

I owe it to my devoted generosity towards the fantasy.

Such was my maneuver when I went about prevailing,

almost succeeding was my plot, only until the next stop.

The shut of the door, the wave of her saree, alas, a baby,

pink little shoes, tiny little bow, and a nudge from her mum.

That was all it took for her to slide her way across to me,

instinctive riddance of weapons of the 21st Century, I did.

Took myself by surprise, I am still certainly very much alive.

Begins the story, where she asks me for a story, How could I not?

 A tilt of her head to the left, a momentary dimple, much misprized.

Harry Potter meets Snow White, Rapunzel wins the Hunger Games,

such were my stories, all very misconstrued, yet adored, I believe.

Right when Cinderella gets to wear her leather jacket, I hear her mum say,

“She loved her sister very much”, but, unnoticed were the glistening tears.

As little Aditi waved goodbye to my dismal, I was left to wonder the tense,

the tense, the tone and the relief in her statement, as well a wave of wonder.

Consumed in a world detached from substantiality I still closely bore,

but now I owe it to my devoted generosity towards fantasy and more.

The First Leaf

 

newborn-baby-with-mother-hospital_0

The leaf of the first fall:

9 months in the womb, protected from everything else out in the world. Next day , in your mother’s arms, and still protected from everything else out in the world ❤

Here’s what I remember from that day : )

      MY FIRST AND BEST MEMORY

Memorable it was, the day I was born,

when my birth was announced with a conch horn.

Mother, father, Uncles and Aunts all surrounded,

saying my cry was beautifully sounded.

I could see myself roaming in their hands,

struggling to hold me, leaving their errands.

Trying to find some humor in their faces,

while my features scored some praises.

Then, I finally reach my mother,

as my pain made her bother.

That was when I was feeling like home,

loved and protected in a caring dome.

                                                        -Shruti ❤