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  • sairam24 2w

    Behind that wall of silence stood a barrage of words entombed in cacophony.

    ©sairam24

  • sairam24 3w

    I am watching the painted skies,
    Just like I imagined it in my dreams,
    Hues of yellow, orange and a tinge of pink,
    The damp sands wanted to remember my footprints,
    But my heart trying to forget it all,
    Raced rhythmically to those waves,
    Slowly erasing the sands of time,
    The winds carried a heady scent of tranquility,
    As it clasped my hand tightly, I walked further
    To find an abandoned boat of hope,
    The cold moonlight dousing the inferno of vexation,
    The sound of the seas resonating deep within.

    ©sairam24

  • sairam24 4w

    The timid tides tumbled through the tenets,
    Tenaciously thrashing the thriving turtles,
    Trying to tread through the tough torrents,
    Tiptoeing to touch the trench.

    ©sairam24

  • sairam24 4w

    Sweet November

    Oh it's that time of the year already?
    Another ten months have zoomed in a flash.
    The prelude to an end of another beautiful year,
    The monsoon winds are roaring goodbyes,
    Until next time.

    Oh it's that time of the year already?
    When our sweaters, jackets and mufflers,
    Royally jump out of their cupboards.
    The most awaited part of the year,
    The nature welcomes the cold winds,
    Winter is here.

    Oh is it that time of the year already?
    When a glass of hot tea or coffee,
    Feels heavenly and stirs up the insides.
    With every sip sending a chill up the spine
    All I can think of is get buried under the rugs,
    And just hibernate.

    Oh is that time of the year already?
    When early mornings are a sight to witness,
    With the horizons covered with curtains of mist.
    You know that the mountains are calling,
    To witness the sunrise from the summit,
    As it appears out of nowhere.

    Oh is it that time of the year already?
    When all I can think of is a bonfire and good company
    Where we reflect on the year that has passed.
    The air is heavy and I can already see smoke,
    Out of my mouth as I blow the candle,
    Of my birthday cake.

    Indeed it's that time of the year already,
    When hills are capped with carpets of white,
    Darkness takes over faster than ever,
    I savour every moment of this season,
    And my favourite month of the year,
    Sweet November.



    ©sairam24

  • sairam24 5w

    @miraquill @shafiya_kul @ruthra_ @treble_clef @writersnetwork
    #haynaku #hay(na)ku #kintsugi #art #imperfections

    (Kintsugi is the Japanese art of putting broken pottery pieces back together with gold)

    Read More

    Broken,
    My soul,
    Scattered into pieces.

    Rummaging,
    Here, there
    Picking them up.

    Joining
    Each fragment,
    Piece by piece.

    Gold,
    Dust lacquer
    In the cracks.

    Fixing
    My imperfections
    Becomes, an art.

    ©sairam24

  • sairam24 6w

    When your soul departed
    And reached the stars,
    I still see you,
    The brightest star,
    In the prettiest constellation.
    Yet I always have this bleak hope
    That one day you will fall back to me,
    Like a shooting star.
    A wish come true.

    ©sairam24

  • sairam24 6w

    A tryst with nature

    The story began with me making my way,
    Through the wilderness of an isolated forest.
    The rains had picked up their paint brushes
    And painted various hues of green all around,
    I could hear a symphony created by the birds.
    This was a perfect getaway for a writer.
    Hoping to get out of a writer's block.
    The final destination was a dilapidated fort,
    Which stood majestically amidst the woods.
    I couldn't help but gape at this architectural marvel
    And sense an ambience of splendor it emanated,
    I made my way into the remains through the colossal arch.
    The clouds thundered and in an instant,
    The outside world became a distant blur.
    Ever nook and corner had a piece of history,
    The moss on the floor created a carpet,
    That welcomed me like a king of nothing,
    With a feeling of nothingness I moved to another end.
    A network of stairs took me up to the top of fortress.
    This is where my mind slipped into a frenzy,
    The exhilarating view got me into deep thinking,
    The rain drops pattered on me but I was mesmerized,
    The fort has been talking to the nature all this while.
    Now it wanted to talk to me.
    The cold breeze touched my soul and shook me.
    I pondered over the cracks on the walls,
    Which were deep and beautiful,
    Just like my scars.
    I closed my eyes overwhelmed by the petrichor,
    The high was different this time unlike any other,
    Tears of joy burst out as I felt one with myself, the fort and the nature.
    The rain subsided and clouds started marching away,
    So were the thoughts in my mind.
    I stood on the edge and screamed on top of my voice,
    The echoes elevated my spirits.
    The claps of residual thunder brought me back to my senses.
    Content with the intimate conversation I had with nature,
    I penned down this fragment of my experience,
    Which was a tryst with nature.

    ©sairam24

  • sairam24 6w

    Ajji (grandma)

    The day starts with my gaze shifting
    Towards a varnish clad teak wood chair.
    The object has been in my bed room for decades,
    But it's only significant memory etched in my mind,
    Is of my beloved Ajji.
    It feels like yesterday she held me in her hands,
    Caressing my chubby cheeks, kissing them,
    She sat on that very chair sipping hot coffee,
    Reading the daily newspaper with those keen eyes.
    She was a classic story teller and her anecdotes
    Spoke volumes of the experiences she braved
    Through the years she lived.
    It was always soothing being around her,
    Pestering her for the mouth watering snacks,
    Whose taste remains on my taste buds until this day.
    Dropping off her to the bus station during those days,
    Made my heart heavy with tears trickling down,
    But her words of advice and a parting hug,
    Calmed my juvenile mind which snapped back to reality.
    Just like all things come to an end,
    Her departure did create a void in my heart,
    It's normal to feel this emptiness being the favourite kid,
    I was to her.
    The only fragment connecting me with her,
    Is the varnish clad teak wood chair.
    I still sit on that very same chair sipping hot coffee,
    Feeling the same warmth, I will always cherish,
    Those unforgettable experiences with my,
    Ajji.

    ©sairam24

  • sairam24 6w

    Digital dilemma

    Someone said television should be called
    An IDIOT BOX, but I beg to differ.
    I would say my phone has claimed this title!
    Such a pity life feels incomplete without one of these,
    I get so lost in the maze of apps infinite,
    With all the mindless scrolling,
    By the time I am out my thumbs are numb,
    My mind is already cursing me on the wasted time,
    Guilt ridden I open my stats for a quick look,
    In a desperate attempt to make amends,
    I make empty promises of ignoring my so called friend,
    I set timers, locks and throw my phone aside,
    My hormones are already haywire,
    By the very thought of the digital detox.
    My mind is already tricking me with phantom vibrations,
    Looks like I am waiting for the time to pass by,
    Every second feels like an eternity waiting to end.
    After all that craving, I get a deja vu!
    Didn't this happen yesterday and the day before?
    Before I could think of anything else,
    I am already zooming through all the things I missed,
    To arrive at the same dead end,
    Of my digital dilemma.

    ©sairam24

  • sairam24 59w

    Her radiant smile was a potent dose of ecstacy he ingested and her smile was just pure poetry which flowed through his veins.

    ©sairam24