God's Hanger

3WW post for the 16th of October
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Three rings. The sum total of his possessions. Plus a rupee. He has half a mind to bury the rings somewhere before going away. The utter lack of any feeling forbids him from giving them to a fellow being. He wears them instead.

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Three rings. He pulls away. He waits. He lets the next call trip over to voice mail, letting it take his last rupee down with it. He hears the request to place a message. He clicks.

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He is not daunted by it anymore.
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He chances upon an unopened packet of food while scouring the refuse bin. There is my last meal, he says to himself.

He picks it up and moves over to the other side of the road. He lays it open on the footpath. Your food always deserves a clean pair of hands, he remembers. Ever fastidious.

 He walks on to wash his hands at the fount at the far end of the street.

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He bemoans his misfortune as he stares at the empty packet. He wipes his wet hand over his shirt. He spots a dog skipping across the road with his poisoned meal between its teeth. He is incredulous and stunned to find his death snatched from him in such a manner. His loathing for the fellow being intensifies.

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In between the two row of fine teeth that this dog has been blessed with, it holds a sumptuous piece of meat, a treat for the lone underfed stray on an empty street. Too hungry to wait, it drops its meal and proceeds to eat.

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It was an accident goddamit! You find an empty street, you count it as a blessing and you drive fast - that's the rule in a city. I swerved to not hit the dog and I ended up hitting a homeless. Least he could have done was to move away. He had no business standing still there!

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Clearing

[Entry for this week's 3WW]


Such bright light,
clouding shut eyes, yet
darkness within hampers one's seeing.

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What I seek are little windows,
Apertures I can slip through.
To sneak in and sneak out
Of past and future,
Pulverize reason,loop ahead
and behind,taunt nature, 
Tear and rewrite its 
Chronological nomenclature.

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Climb

[Entry for this week's 3WW]

Wanderer's struggle,
over foggy, slippery slopes,
denied lenient trail.

Rain

[My entry for this week's 3WW]
 
Quite taken to monsoon,
murmurs rippling feet,
clung long to parched lands.

The rest is noise

Water drops over white lilies,
Shimmer of a mirage,
The rest is noise.

Whence

[For 3WW]

At the edge of control, what taunts us is not whatever is on the other side, but how inevitable the crossing over and the looking back are.

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What the sun had sought all year, mother nature chose to gift it today.

It was a sunny day. Bees hummed about the flowers, water caressed and fed gently the malnourished bed of the river. The sun ambled about between the clouds, enjoying the view, looking over all things earthen with a razor sharp vision.
  
Except that all things earthen did not contain any humans. Whatever wiped the humans out chose to spare the rest of living beings. So the lion whose roar rang around the world, the flora whose fragrance intoxicated the air, the trees whose branches seem to grip each other in a show of strength - the sun could hear, smell and see clearly all of these.

Mother nature had kept her promise. In one great swoop, she cleared earth of all the clutter, all those fleshed ones who could think but alas, chose to think only of themselves.

The Wrong End of the Truth Table

Come on!

Lets open these boxes one by one,

find the one that contain our names.

Check the one to the right,

Let me check the one to the left.

Our names are written in black inside,

Trust my guts and don't ask me why.

One of them will contains our names,

Yours and mine.

Don't ask me why.

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Having met with failure, be brutal here.

Bury alive a few dreams, see what the blinkers hide.

Revive the dreams worth dying for,

to shine like the sun across a sullen sky.