Age

The dark circles under her eyes,

Her hands coarse and wrinkled,

The furrowed eyelids gathered at one place

Her face gaunt and dimpled.

IMG_4841The dark circles under her eyes,

Her hands coarse and wrinkled,

The furrowed eyelids gathered at one place

Her face gaunt and dimpled.

 

The strong arms that once were my recluse, &

The once toned legs have thinned down,

He takes time to get up on his own

And trembles when he sits down.

 

Their bodies are now clad in loose skin,

Their gait is slow and mirth fatigued,

They take time to remember things now

I can see they are getting old and weak.

 

They don’t eat much, they don’t sleep much,

They can’t concentrate on just one thing,

Their days have become incessant &

They spend most of their nights thinking.

 

Thinking if they will be able to give,

Some more time.

If they will be able to stay,

Just a little longer.

If they can try to make our world easier,

And teach our little one about love and honour, but

 

Time is a powerful master &

We are just feeble subjects,

I never knew what age was,

Until time showed me this new aspect.

 

We are ageing now, we always were,

It’s prominent now because it’s visible.

I wish I could rewind the time and

Become that carefree girl again,

I wish I could give them back their younger days &

Take away the existing pain.

 

Ⓒ Prakriti Kundaliya

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

To the Men Who Lie

Because objects shouldn’t have a voice,

And whatever objects, is never a choice.

There are men that knit stories of affection,

Stories of love, and stories of dedication.

They make you believe that you’re important than their life,

Then they tell the same thing to the next in line.

Yes, you’re like season and seasons always change,

There’s never one constant, but after every change, it rains.

Yes, feelings are important and they feel too much,

That’s also one reason why one woman, is seldom enough!

They lie unsurprisingly and it’s difficult to tell,

After all, they bind you with their bewitching spell.

They are dangerous, than danger itself,

Because they haven’t yet discovered themselves.

Every woman is nice as long as she falls for the charms,

But if she questions something, it raises an alarm.

Such men like their women timid,

That are meek and unarguably stupid,

Because objects shouldn’t have a voice,

And whatever objects, is never a choice.

They believe heartily that nothing is permanent,

And that’s their reason, for the short arrangements.

To the men that lie, we know who you are,

The times have changed, your lies have travelled afar.

To the men who lie, know our hearts have fortified,

The declaration of love, no longer makes us blind.

Ⓒ Prakriti Kundaliya

 

 

Circle of Life

I have been running around in circles,

With no set destination in mind,

The world around progressed too much,

& I got pulled far behind…

Circle of life, Changes through the years, walking out of the past, bidding goodbye to memories, memories, past

While I waited to live, the life almost got over &

I realized the mortal I was meant to be,

When I stood at the crossover,

The traffic of insecurities jammed the heart,

The web of memories fogged the path.

Life needed a closure I realised.

Of all the weary mistakes,

I understood, I was still paying the price.

Acclimatizing was even more difficult,

The world brimming with youth, and me much older…

Every day I elude the unacquainted smiles,

I avoid the greetings made by the passer-by’s.

It pierces my heart, to know that I don’t fit in any longer,

I try to act brave but my heart isn’t any stronger…

The day progresses and then comes to a halt,

& the tears wash away the anxieties at fall.

I want to give up desperately and not get up at all,

I still force the wrecked carcass to crawl.

Why, I still pretend I ask myself,

Why doesn’t this wretched journey ever end?

Ⓒ Prakriti Kundaliya
Image Courtesy: Miriam Aroeste http://miriamaroeste.com/portfolio/

Heartache

It has been difficult to hold on & I am really trying my best,
But you don’t seem to care anymore,
Something has caused an unrest…

 We are like an age-old citadel,
 That looks admirable from the outside,
 We have been cited as an example, to the walls that are still being laid…
 Only our heart knows, what it took to be resilient.
 Only we are aware of the times we mended the walls discreetly…
 The rough weathers tried to take us down,
 Sometimes, we gave up on everything, but each other…
 For, that’s all we ever had.
 For as long as I reminisce,
 I always found you by my side….
 It has been difficult to hold on & I am really trying my best,
 But you don’t seem to care anymore,
 Something has caused an unrest…
 I realise you’re finally turning into stone,
 So that the walls don’t crumble away,
 I hope I can bolster our damaged hearts,
 I hope we can still find a way.
Ⓒ Prakriti Kundaliya

Under the Thriving Brown

I was bounded by the soil, when they buried me deep.
For years I was undisturbed,
Then one day he woke me up, from the profound sleep.

I think its sunset, I sense he is around…
I wait like I constantly do,
Under the thriving brown.

He writes poetries and sometimes he narrates them to me,
I just nod or smile in approval,
I am not even sure he ever perceives…

I know so much about him, and that he doesn’t know,
I know who crushed his heart,
The girl he planned to propose.

He always sits on a bench tarnished with age,
Sometimes he sits on the grass and
Plays with its blades.

I wonder if he knows, that I exist too,
I have always loved him,
Maybe not in form, but in a different hue…

He is withdrawn, and hardly stable.
There is much pain in his prose,
Makes him distant and unapproachable…

On some days I have wanted to come out of hiding,
To tell him, how good he is, but I can’t…
My soul will follow him through but my being shan’t!

I was bounded by the soil, when they buried me deep.
For years I was undisturbed,
Then one day he woke me up, from the profound sleep.

He doesn’t know yet, that he sits on a grave,
I don’t intend to scare him, I feel he is brave,

I know he won’t fancy a carcass with no name,
But this deceased heart will still admire him,
With absolutely no aim!

Ⓒ Prakriti Kundaliya

Trying to understand my Baby girl

Poem on mother

I have so much to learn, she has so much to teach,

Her tiny grasp, & the world still out of reach…

She teaches silently, with eyes that shine like enstatite,

She notices everything acutely, she happens to have a keen sight

How her smile transforms into questions,

How she abhors what dissuades her, with apparent objection,

She’s not easy but intricate

Sometimes I read her like a passage and

Sometimes she is nothing less than an adage…

I wasn’t always strong, but she inspires me to be

She gives me that inconceivable strength

That only superhuman feel…

She trusts me more than I trust myself,

Makes me feel like I have finally excelled …

I don’t know if I was anything before she came,

She has added colours in the monochrome frame…

We will understand each other more,

As life unfolds itself,

Till then we’ll observe each other and try to comprehend as much as we can!

Ⓒ Prakriti Kundaliya

 

Stuck in Time

A manuscript, and a glass of wine,

I had lost the track of time…

Surreal moments, broken tides,

I knew there was no haven to hide

My tears dry,

The pain still sharp…

I was stuck in a time warp..

My make-believe world,

Finally collapsed,

My unclothed soul, stood,

Unadorned, unabashed….

The dwellings changed and the people too,

Some consciously remained mute…

My life came to a halt, and the

Surroundings were covered by the murky fog,

Limbs paralysed, eyes wide

The senses numb,

Nowhere to run.

This is a lost fight,

It won’t get any better,

I have lost the place,

Now nothing really matters…

I have realized now,

I can’t change the future,

My world challenged,

More pain will follow…

Now, I am collecting figments,

That fragmented in the crash….

I am saving as many,

To remember the moments that, once were planned.

Ⓒ Prakriti Kundaliya