Wednesday, 27 March 2013

By my window

A blanket of colors
on the road, in the air,
on their skins and everywhere
while I stand clean, craning.
A peculiar boy,
much my age
seems too alive
to drench even the sun.
His eyes spot me
his face masked in color dust
yet I see him smirk.

– Vaishali

Today in India we celebrate Holi, the festival of colors. Water guns, balloons filled with water and colors are a major delight for most and a nightmare for some. I like to watch people play Holi but you hit me with one of those balloons and you’ll get a pokerface from me. Nothing else. :D

Saturday, 23 March 2013


she sings in broken chords
to engross her small brother…
Mama won’t return

Shared with: Haiku Heights

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