A Nation Flagged!

This country is no place for women;

Every quarter an hour a rape condoned.

It's people shut their eyes;

It's police closes the case.

Feeling pukish? Here's our flagcloth torn!

Sarva

Strange Love: Together, Apart!

 

She was a hill top;

I was a foothill.

What a rollercoaster ride!

She was not my cup of tea;

I was not her filter coffee.

What stirred our little hearts?

She was a lightning flash;

I was a wild forest.

Did she set my youth on fire? 

She was a Saffron Princess;

I was merely a Wayfarer.

How long am I sentenced in love? 

She was an action sequence;

I was a musical play.

What climax awaits this show?

She was my prayer; No!

I was not her wish fulfilment.

Whose plea would the gods pay heed? 

She was my harsh truth;

I was her beautiful lie.

Are we a work of fiction?

She was my eyes;

I was her tears.

Is this how it ends, without a bye?

She was the Cross;

I was the Christ.

Whose sins are we bearing?

Sarva

Emotional Journey of an Unread Book!

There were times when he was ardently in conversation with her. He never thought she would vanish into thin air like her spoken word. She was so busy reading a book of her choice. He remained an unread book in her shelf. He was so waiting to be read by her. But that day never came. If he's a book worthy of its content, he realized he doesn't belong in her world. It's better to be unread than to end up being mistaken or torn, he calmed himself like a true book of wisdom. 

     She scorned at the book for its unique approach and alternative ideas quite different from her's. She was scared she'd like it. Since she always limited herself to her own kith and kin, she decided to get rid of him- an outsider, potentially a bad influence. 

      A book would rather wait for a reader who appreciated it's worth. That was his new readership engagement policy. After all, self respect is its first chapter. Very few crossed to reach love, it's second chapter. 

      He was a book unnoticed by many. Some glanced through; Others eagerly turned it's pages. A few got lost in between. Only one lasted. She picked up the book. 'This book belongs to Mythili Annadurai', she wrote on the first page. He was happy he could finally belong to someone. 

      Are you a book waiting for your reader or a reader waiting to pick your book? 

Sarva