The Last Walk

As I made my way towards the deadly gallows,

The dark world of mine seemed murkier.

My last walk through the gloomy corridor,

Instilled in my heart, panic and fear.

Death was commanded to visit my soul,

In return of the seventeen I had exterminated.

My profession didn’t involve a bit of emotions,

Never was I depressed, Never was I elated.

At sunset, the walk took me to the spot,

Surrounded by high walls, I was forced to bend.

Dusk’s never more horrifying, when you know,

By nightfall, your life is going to end.

Destroying God’s creations was criminal,

The reason of my doom, as I was told.

What’s questionable was the allowability of this,

Legal act, of executing another formation of His mould.

The executioner though, was kind enough,

To ask me, make the last wish of this life.

Without much pondering upon, I made my word,

To close my eyes, with a glimpse of my wife.

She was before me, half an hour past,

Wearing a sorry look on her face.

I confronted her with a fading smile,

Typical of a person who has lost his ways.

Quarter of an hour, was the span,

My heart was further allowed to beat.

The assassin had an eye fixed on his watch,

To stain his shirt with red, that now was neat.

I didn’t utter a single word,

Neither did her lips show any interest.

Our hearts conveyed our emotions,

Right from the base to the crest.

Time slipped away, resembling sand,

Enclosed in the tight grasp of my hands.

She was asked to step aside and make way,

For the Death to conquer my lands.

The assassin had a sense of accomplishment,

As he released the bullet that pierced my chest.

My vision faded, but I could sense her teardrop,

Soothing my wound, as my core eased to rest.

Autobiography of a Droplet

Swiveling around the tornado’s core,

Devastating a low-lying Mediterranean shore,

Busy he was, composing the demolish-lore,

Standing tall, the size of a sponge’s pore.

 

Imbibed in from the West Wind, they say,

She was curvy and glossy in her day(s),

Spell-bounded, by her charm, he lay,

Sensations in his heart, he never could portray.

 

Congregating his emotions, he took the first step,

Stunned at the outset, in ecstasy, she wept,

On a white Caribbean cloud, the atmosphere was pep,

As they tied the knot, pledged vows to be kept.

 

It was a chilled-out shivering windy night,

The cloud, they say was no longer white,

A thunderous flash, and there was light,

What followed for them, was the end of flight.

 

They collated, a consequence of the latter,

And dropped down, way on a rocky matter,

What seemed like another splitter-splatter,

Rendered them into tiny shatter(s).

 

Amidst those showers, that deafening burst,

Budding from the shatters, I breathed my first,

Soaked up by the mighty rock to quench his thirst,

Clutching onto mum’s back, not it was the worst.

 

Days of percolation down the livid alley,

Squeezing in and out, for the perfect tally,

On a rowdy terrain reminiscent of a rally,

Conclusively footing, on the foot of the valley.

 

Gushing out of a thin crevice, much of a fight,

Out of the gloom, much there was light,

Canopy above, Rocks underneath, majestic sight,

Uncertainty in every step, a tentative plight.

 

As the falls came, dad’s grasp entrenched trust,

Fumbling and Tumbling over the rocks’ crust,

The descending push, the ascending thrust,

Day in, night out, continuity was a must.

 

When abruptly, the vibrations they fade,

The vivacious blue, turned the perilous jade,

Hush before the storm, tranquility before the raid,

Triggered by the murky winds, the flow strayed.

 

Came the ruthless Niagara, the flow became turbulent,

Turmoil and Commotion, in the winds that were silent,

Harmony and order, turned chaotically belligerent,

To merge with the mist above, some of us did bent.

 

Lucky ones they were, rose up towards the unflustered sky,

Under the sweltering sun, in a reservoir, we were left to dry,

Got separated from my folks, had barely a moment to cry,

As to a pipeline I made my way, entitled “City water Supply”.

 

Mystically spontaneous, a flow it was,

Without a hustle, or a transformational pause,

Evolve, it did, for the shoddier cause,

Ridiculously monotonic, with a no-return clause.

 

Traversing across pipelines, one valve to another,

From flush-tanks, the appalling flows, did bother,

Stead of letting free, they recycled rather,

The caged bird I am, with a missing feather.

 

Hope, is a good thing, the best of things,

I hope to break out of these vicious rings,

Moisten the golden sand, as the white wave sings,

Sail over the blue Pacific, the flight without wings. 

To Communiqué

As we step on a new path, a new horizon beckons our way.

Pocketing in our hearts the memories, as they portray,

Communiqué, a family it has been, till the dawn of the day,

Some-things you just can’t speak, leave them to your heart to say.

A new day shall adorn us all, A new Sun is set to rise,

On the very same horizon, we bounded to those unbreakable ties.

To the very same horizon, the journey is yet to suffice.

As we shall encircle, and meet again, to relive and rejoice.

Family - the word perfectly describes my association with Communiqué.

I'll echo Nidhi's lines - "Communique is the best thing that has

happened to me in Kgp". I'd like to thank the governors and the

conveners for giving me this Golden opportunity to lead the society. I

pledge to never let the society down. I take this opportunity also to

thank all the secys, for being such a fabulous team, as we were.

Really enjoyed those meetings, workshops and treats with all of you.

The above verses are intended primarily for the conveners passing out.

We shall meet again - Phir milenge chalte chalte. :)

Wrapping up,

I'd like to thank Nidhi for all those Communique-sento lines,

I'd like to thank the conveners for those uncountable treats,

I'd like to govs for developing such a close bond with all of us,

and last but not the least, thank the secys for completing the best

team I have ever been with...

PS : Special mention to Sonal...my first and only Kgp crush...:P

Thanks for not hitting me whenever I used to confess this... :D :P

DEVOID

 

My life has been nothing but black,
spanning the past fifteen years,
devoid of shades and spontaneity,
much composed of monotony and tears.

 

I can still very well recollect,
the red anger on my father's face,
the moment he got to know,
it was by cheating, I won my first race.

 

I can still very well feel,
the warmth of orange in my mother's hug,
that enabled me to draw every little bit of love,
in her heart for me, in a single tug.

 

I can still very well imagine,
the mystique charm of green in my eyes,
an afternoon nap in the nature's lap, on,
the soft lush grass, amidst numerous birds’ cries.

 

I can still very well visualize,
the infinite expanses of blue in my view,
standing on the shore, facing the sea,
its vastness becomes visibly true.

 

Had he not been my very own brother,
had I not accepted punishment for his crime,
my life wouldn't have been monotonously black,
but filled with vibrant colours and the sounds of chime.