Thursday, March 31, 2011

unkempt choices

This night has no sleep for me
And the bank of my dreams appears empty,
So I turn to a white paper
The blank page refuses my ink,
So I look for words to be read.
The syllables carry frenzied look for me,
So I fill the colors for my canvas.
The brushes become brittle in my hand.
So I switch to a new television box.
The visual dances are alien for me.
So I lit a cigarette and play my guitar.
The strings shiver and shrill at me.
So I look at the moon and admire the stars
This darkness invades my endeavor again.
And thus I allow the mirror to reflect my scars.
which echoes the chaos of unkempt choices
again and again.

Tuesday, March 1, 2011


Once upon a time, a sensible heart was sick. The heart did everything to recover but all efforts , medicines , prays were futile. Even the God and his friends were confused of the malady from which heart was suffering. The heart became a poet then. At last, God consulted his greatest strength and foe - Satan. Satan examined the heart and found a little part of it missing. The whole domain of the creator was now engaged and ordered to find the missing part of the heart.         
      The wind chased the melody. The water stirred the stillness. The earth incited the roads. The fire ignited the slumber and the void ( according to Japanese philosophy of 5 elements) got filled. It was the missing part of heart which was now a part of void.
        The Satan accused the void of stealing the part of heart. The void has unaware of the whole case. It was always hollow to grasp the essence of presence and thus had no explanation of what the missing part of heart was doing at its abode. God could do nothing but punish the void for the uncommitted sin.The helpless void after trails and arguments, agreed to bear the punishment only if the missing part of the heart becomes a part of void and was never to return to the place of it origin. Satan convinced god to accept the stated condition and since then the heart is sick and the void suffers.
That missing part of genuine heart which the void keeps as a token of punishment is LOVE.

* This is fiction. God, the heart, the void and Satan are metaphors.


Creative Commons License
Poet Of Minutes** by Nidhi Sharma is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 2.5 India License.
Based on a work at