Teenage

Dear owner,

I have been most loyal to you
Served your every command
But my earnings have been pathetically few
Here are some of my polite demands

I work constantly at 14 percent
You refuse me reprieve
Then when I’m supposed to be charged, at night’s end,
You shrug shoulders and fall asleep

I am dropped on all varieties of materials
From water, to marble to concrete
Admittedly, the leather case makes it hard to feel
But I resent being treated like bird’s droppings;
Tossed around from street to street

You might think my complaints are without bite
No lawyer will come to my aid; my own manufacturer won’t bat an eye
I am, but an inanimate object; I have no human rights
But listen here, and listen well to my wails; my cries

I know more about you than your own family
I know your passwords, I know what you do in incognito mode
I know your address, your contacts and where you keep your keys
Your diary, your secrets, your weird obsessions, I have the ability to upload

Signed,
The device currently buzzing in your pocket

The world glows in arbitrary colors…
Reds and blues and yellows and greens
As if the Earth was a canvas for our gods
Even with blotches of paint; end result’s pristine

Playing with powders, perfumes and pigments,
Then, the only color which doesn’t matter, of your skin
For a day, we have water balloons in one hand, pichkaries in the other
With Rangoli on our smiling faces; all hues and tints

People, are like colors
Wonderful, colorful and diverse
We don’t need to sit on fire to triumph over evil
Together, we can make the world better for us

When I began wondering why
I was born under thatched roof,
That wets my weak mat
In raging rainy nights.

Unknown to me mother was behind,
Jolting my grieved lips
With stifling tears jogging down
Which forced my lips with rhetorics.

Why was Blake born in bed?
And Richard raised in roses?
Why was Steven born with silver spoon?
Wasn’t I ever born with a bronze?

As I mumbled these,
She wiped the oceans off her face saying:
‘Their fate was decided
By benevolent spirit’.

Humans build the world,
But you, you create the humans,
The sun gives me light,
But you, you make me bright.

In my every breath
You are hidden,
But in most lives,
You are forgotten.

Although they treat you
As a thrown stone,
To me,
You are the diamond
Called ‘’The Nature’’

blurb of colour
trickle of sound
curbs against
ceramic teeth
open the brain passages alight
hold your breath
and drown in the experience
blurb of colour
stream of cloud
carry me in your
iridescence sound

A day, a week, a month, the heat begins to soar.
Our planet starts to warm,
A day, a week, a month, the ice begins to melt;
Arctic creatures search for food.
A day, a week, a month, it continues to rain.
The roads become a river,
The river becomes a sea,
Less food, less homes,
We all have to change,
The impact on human lives, animal lives, the planet.
A day, a week, a month is the time to change.

The great Night of Shiva falls upon us
A day rumored to be many days at once

The day Lord Shiva married dear goddess, Parvati

Or perhaps the day he drank poison
Emerging from the ocean
The poison which is now stored in his throat
Making him as blue as the skies
If only we had Shiva to drink the poison from the oceans today
Turning blue might not be the only consequence
Of all the plastic stuck in his throat

Or perhaps, it is the day of battle between Lord Shiva and Lord Brahma
When the Creator was cursed for lying with the Ketaki flower

Flowers bloom as the seasons progress
The dance of creation, preservation and destruction is performed
Mahashivrathri
Celebrate the destruction of darkness and ignorance

Every time I see a tree,
I think doesn’t it want to be free?
Standing at the same place
With the boring muddy base.
What does it think
after looking at the beautiful butterflies?

Solitary in the garden,
The sun glistens from above
Rising eagerly but steadily
Call to wake the Mother Nature up.

Alone in the garden
The breeze begins to whisper
Rustling vibrant leaves
Tossing them hither and thither

As nature flitters in
And starts to sing a song
Bees begin to work
And buzz to sing along

Then flutters a butterfly
Dancing with the wind
Cannot sing as lost her voice
But longs still to join in

Birds wake and glide,
Up above the clouds,
Singing sweet melodious tunes
Flying up and down.

Dew drops sparkle among the plants
And shine like costly gems
Fountain burst with water
And Solitary I am no more.

Do you feel like isolation, quarantines, lockdowns are the new normal?
Distancing rules, masks, sanitizer, washing your hands uncountable amounts of times,
It feels normal,
Is just your everyday routine, it’s automatic.

Two meters apart from every person you see,
No greeting friends, Aunties and Uncles, Grandparents the way you’d usually be,
Hugging or kissing – none of all that,
Keep your distance, stay safe, stay back.
Staying at your homes,
Don’t go out unless essential,
Talk to your family and friends all via video call,
Taking up new hobbies,
So much time to spare,
Learning new things, even cutting your own hair!

With shops and businesses all closed up,
You’re working from home,
Drinking tea, cup after cup,
The government setting numerous rules,
Then going onto finding a vaccine,
Hope.

People begin to be injected with the stuff,
Starting with key workers, vulnerable, elderly then young,
It seems to be working,
Lockdown may start to lift,
If all goes to plan we can see who we miss,
Without spreading the virus to the people we love,
As both us and them would have the vaccine,
We’d be immune to the bug.

But if this is ‘normal’ what would it be then?
When we CAN see people,
Meet up with them?
When we CAN go to the shops,
Speak to people once again,
When we CAN go out places,
What did we do then?
What was the ‘old normal’ before all this,
What did we do before this virus exists?
So used to staying at home finding stuff to do,
Forgetting everyday life before hearing the covid news.