The bright red vermilion
On my mother’s forehead
The yellow haldi streaks
On her sari, well-faded
My father’s khaki trousers
Patched and torn
His green striped shirt
A thousand times worn
The pink frilly frock
My sister loved
The blue denim jeans
My brother never had
Such were the hues
In my world
And then it was only red
And gold all around
At last, all became black
Along my way
And all that remained
Was a fistful of ashes grey
I know it has been long since i hv put up something here...pls blame the hectic schedule of my university for this inaction...n this poem was created in 30 mins while i was trying out for 'creative writing' team selections in my college...i was pleased to see that law has not usurped my talents in verse till now...this is not exactly a good attempt but somehow i was satisfied with this piece when it finally shaped up in my mind....
On my mother’s forehead
The yellow haldi streaks
On her sari, well-faded
My father’s khaki trousers
Patched and torn
His green striped shirt
A thousand times worn
The pink frilly frock
My sister loved
The blue denim jeans
My brother never had
Such were the hues
In my world
And then it was only red
And gold all around
At last, all became black
Along my way
And all that remained
Was a fistful of ashes grey
I know it has been long since i hv put up something here...pls blame the hectic schedule of my university for this inaction...n this poem was created in 30 mins while i was trying out for 'creative writing' team selections in my college...i was pleased to see that law has not usurped my talents in verse till now...this is not exactly a good attempt but somehow i was satisfied with this piece when it finally shaped up in my mind....
2 comments:
'Satisfactory'- is not a word one can very enthusiatically relate to a work of art. Yes, it has been long since anything got posted here and somehow the ticks and mites knew you were coming, so the blog remains unscathed.The poem can surely figure in the rhyming lessons for poetry students, I am sure. It has got good flow. Where you fail the reader is at the end where he realises to his dismay the futility of such a good start spent in the closing lines.Now, don't tell me you want us to believe there actually was a arson where the whole family vanished into ashes. There hardly are enough leads to that.
Now don't get ticked off again with me. It's just my habit. Really, in 30 minutes Homer couldn't have managed as much as you did.Moreover he wasn't even competing with stalwarts as you were.Kudos! And keep posting.
@whatsinaname
yes, u r right about the ending...n i didn't want to give any lead as to that, wanted it to come as a shock....
@political sinner
well, can u pls tell me why u think it is 'terruble'? what i wud really appreciate is constructive criticism...
considering, this piece, along with 'the mirage' was liked by the editors of The Statesman enough to publish them in '8th day', the Sunday supplement on 6th August, 2006, combined wid the fact that some ppl have really appreciated it, i wud like to hear u also...
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