Monday, February 25, 2013

55 Fiction # 7 - Kumbh Mela – Holy Dip

Hundreds of Thousands had gathered. It comes once in every 12 years. They had all descended from around the world to take the holy dip and get rid of all the sins. Now all left to do was to think where to take a dip to wash all their sins for polluting the Holy Ganga.

Sunday, February 24, 2013

My Village Cottage


It had been years,
Since he descended here,
In his home town
everything he could call,
his own there

From the station,
he hopped in the car,
destination was not very far
His cousin at the wheel,
drove him through the town
they set on to the road home
he didn’t want to do it alone

It was a remote village,
when he had left in times old
Now it was no way near,
what it was before
everything villagers owned,
had changed hands
was virtually sold

But, in his area
nothing had moved,
things had changed,
only a little
few falling apart,
rest was nicely aging

As he passed his school,
got lost in memory pool
Those were the days,
he called heaven, when
he was considered a dude, cool !!!

On the next turn
was that old castle
were arguments, in fights
used to turn
but friends ultimately
had their differences burn

Further on the node
was the family owned plot
were his father laid to rest
were the time spent
was always the best
to be there again
he felt truly blessed

From a distance
I could be seen
To see him come
a dream it had been
he entered the courtyard
where he had been wean
Covered in weeds
the gate is rusting,
Old Mahoney was dying,
Wooden fence requires painting,
All of it he has patiently seen


Still I’m full of life,
Not a dull moment, here
there's ever been

My walls have seen it all,
through it, they have stood tall
In my hall,
Opinions differed,
There were fights,
at times, rages soared
things went overboard
in the end,
everything was resolved
with equal vigor,
success and happiness
was rejoiced
nothing has ever been told,
close to my heart, everything I hold
always protected
secured, they felt inside

In days of glory,
& in solitary
I have always beamed
Every room has an untold story
Every wall a buried memory

                                                                           ~KARAN


This post is part of the contest Tell a Tale on WriteUpCafe.com

Thursday, February 7, 2013

First Blogger Award


These days I wasn’t getting time to blog, not that I am not scribbling; it’s just that I’m not able to post it all here. And suddenly one day I receive a mail informing me that I have been nominated for an award…my very first in the blogging world…my happiness was sky high…it was a feeling of recognition …it was slowly sinking…and now I am here writing it down abiding by the rules.

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