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A Caged Bird

A friend asked me this morning if I was a Maya Angelou fan. 

I replied her "Kind of".

I had never asked this question to myself. 

Perhaps I considered her more of a feminist than a literary figure. 

However it was her poem 'The Caged Bird' that startled me. Till then, I saw poems in black and white - they could induce either happiness or sorrow. 

But a bird that stalks
down his narrow cage
can seldom see through
his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and
his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.

We have associated songs to happiness and cheer. Without them, the world would have been too drab. 

But these lines ! They shatter all romance associated with music. These 'songs' are born from intense pain. Pain of magnitude that we cannot imagine. The more the pain, the sweeter the song. 

They sing as they have nothing to do except cry at their destiny. Who sings when there is a pressing need to cry ?

But these 'birds' are one of its kind. Instead of tears, they fill the world with music. 

Maya was perhaps the first persons to write on this 'grey' theme. 

I proudly proclaim to be a 'Maya Angelou' fan.


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Concealed by dark clouds
You keep shining.
Bright streaks of light
Dazzle me.
Enchant me.
And keep me waiting..
Waiting for you.

Amidst Soul-lessness

There is smoke somewhere. 
I cannot seem to figure out where. 
The lights are here, the music is here.
Has it been home here ?
Perhaps. Maybe when it did not rain.
Or maybe when it rained and it did not matter.
Maybe when I walked alone, smiling to myself. 
Or maybe when I realized I was okay.
Had it been always like this ?

Not really. 
Things clicked, took effort and blood. 
Did I do it ? Or the beasts did ? Maybe we both together,
Played this game. 
Amidst soulful solitude, it was love. 
Maybe appreciation.
Another journey, another dry spell. 
Will it ever be home again ? 

P.S. : Penned at Candies, Bandra on 11th January 2017 

All Consuming Love

Dear You,

Looks like I have found you.

In the depths of my love, I notice your smile.

Yes, the one you flash after that brief moment of joy.

I feel your fingers entwined in mine. All the time.

Your eyes speak to mine, asking me questions.

Remember the first time I told you of my affection and my afflictions ?

You must know this. You consume my thoughts, time and grief.

Glad to have met you.