Tag Archives: Flowers

Writings on the Wall IV

Art credit: @ottokim

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/constant/https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/constant/

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Superficial

My ear is accustomed

Not to the hooting of the owl

Or loud chirping noises of the birds

But to the pleasant music

The roads and highway plays

Without dropping a single sweat

From sunrise to sunset,

From sunrise to sunset.

Accompanying and delighting 

every person on its way

That tring- trings of the cycle,

The Vroom Vroom of the bikes

The  honk – honk of the buses,

The different horn-tones of the cars that is preset

Like a mobile ringtone that vibrates on your way….

They are magical ,musical instruments

And music is what they play

Its pure music I say.

But in the evening

When their music fades

And silent prevails

It is the annoying sound

 of crawling reptiles- hissing, insects -buzzing,

Sometimes screaming,

Their high pitched voice,

O,that disturbing ,irritating noise

That deeply hits my brain.

It digs my brain

It is not the view of the tall trees,

But the mountain high skyscrapers

That I enjoy.

This is me

Yes me

My body 

gravitating

More

More towards superficiality

More towards artificiality

My body so much latched to it

Locked and I have already lost the key…

As I go far, more far from nature

And come close, more close

Towards this ‘madding croud’

More close to this ‘mad-adding crowd’

<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/brave/”>Brave</a&gt;Brave“>Brave

Azaleas…

source : google

They drink water and carefully chew earth 

Soaking in that rich photons

They are sun-tanned

Yet they grow no dark

But beautifully do they age

And withers without a tinge of fear

Blossoming every spring

They are Azaleas so stunning

White, purple,

Sometimes amalgamtion of different colours Sometimes her scarlet blush

Attracting not only human eyes 

But winged angels from far and wide.

I still have that old photograph

Me and my mother beside

That new mother happily

bursting with pink azaleas
It was last winter, 

Grandpa had to cut it short 

I still remember that expression

Of discomfort and regret

“Don’t be disheartened baba

They will grow again”, I said.

But his reply gave me a shock

,“They knew I would cut them.

 It gives me much pain to inflict the same upon the plant I planted and nursed.”

“But they will grow next year”, he consoled himself.

Weeks haven’t past

My mom sick and in pain,

Tortured me more…

Yes, there is a strong connection

Between a mother and her child

It was then I realised

My grandpa though a Father figure

Had already become a Mother 

To the plant life he was giving birth

With every passing year,

Trees,plants,orchids and so on…

Pursue

Darjeeling is all dazzling with Rhododendrons.

Pic courtesy: .P.R .Every year I am in love with this beauty. Rhododendron arboreum blushing in Mall Road.

See who is blushing?

The luminous beauty,magnificent

She wears no artificiality, 

Reflecting her true self

All we can do is just gaze

The marvellous sight like

Fine paintings of red hearts

Every year its the same time

She is ever ready to meet her groom

The unrivalled beauty

She is forever an untouched bride.

©P.R
Desire