Changing Shades

Narrating life becomes a tumultuous task; a life that has molded, shaped, transformed, and yet remains in a liminal state. This night, and many other nights have raised the curtain of reality; but somehow my belief held me back-and-forth. I never quite admitted the fact, constructed-deconstructed the fantasy. Now, when the etiology of the creator is questioned what do the minimalist, I, do?



My sensibilities were pinned by a sordid gamut of pettiness. Yet, somewhere the insufferable torture began to flush away the triviality. Supposedly, the fantasy became a living reality, a place of submission.


Tarnished and soiled,

Yet emotions unfoiled,

I walked on,

To trample upon

A song called – friend

Even when, the water was low

You assured me to carry the row


The rowing became grave, with the passage of years. The years bore deep crevices, often dungeons, some infallible, some left to be discovered by eyes of maturity. Charmed, in an alien land like a traveler bereft of qualms my spirits walked toward a reflection. For years, half-hungry I burned in the bitter springs of anger and pride.



I continued without a sound

Not to fail the ground below

Before, I have found

My feelings have turned mellow

Once, I thought

My mind has brought

A sudden shiver,

A sunken wave

Now, things grew

A vintage brew

As, I know I will have my day