I Sail,

Here,
Lil pecks
Cling on me,
Sorrow ‘s dust stays,
There somewhere, too near!
Hops off my rusty chair,
to newfound doors venturing-
new ways, but I fondly dust them~
Off my weathered shoes: and walk again.
“Here, lil pecks cling on me, Sorrow ‘s dust stays,”

~Kunjal Gupta

This is a poem which has been penned for the W3 Prompt #78 where the poets were asked to pen a Dectina Refrain expressing some emotion. I wanted to write about those moments of life when we feel sad, or we perform bad, or we simply mess up. While they are not defining, I personally feel that my failures and my mistakes and mess ups are a very important part of me. For if I had not experienced them or have them even now, I would have been unable to experience the cheesiness and the vibrancy of other emotions like success happiness joy and ecstasy so strongly in my life… I leave it up to the readers to interpret this poem in their own way

What is a Dectina Refrain?

A poetry form comprising of:

• Ten lines;
• Syllabic count: 1/2/3/4/5/6/7/8/9/10 per line
• The tenth line is comprised of the first four lines all together, as one stand alone line in quotation marks. (apparently the quotation marks are optional.)

Pitter Patter,

Pitter patter of rain,

Playing its grace,

In wells of rapture

With Soft drizzle overhead.

.

A blissful night,

Regaining the old,

Listening to the words,

Furrowed tousled head.

.

Memories old anew,

Fat drops on the letters,

Glazing them in rain,

My pastime novel.

.

Eyes profuse red,

of what not could be,

Red red red!

Of what can’t really be.

.

Surprise illumines as I gaze-

-Aimlessly,

The daunting black cracks,

A hand moistened in tears-

Calls out to me.

.

‘Come join me’ says the rain,

I leave hold of my book,

And let the musical thrum,

Take hold of  me.

.

Into a wondrous maze,

An empty field,

Which is filled with fresh grasses

As well as  weed.

.

Into questions and doubts,

They encircle me

And try to gain-

Hoof! But I let them be.

.

A rewinding cute story,

Of a girl in seven,

Crazy and laughing

Wiping away all her miseries.

.

A cut-up knee,

She stands afraid,

and finally gains paddle

and finally gives the chase!

.

Seeds within me

a daring hope,

The pitter patter of rain,

Enclosing me in a warm orb.

.

The pitter patter of rain,

Plays upon me

Its drizzy drazzy refrain

Warps a melody so sweet.

.

All  Hopes and falls,

Wash by as rain,

And make it complete,

The bed

Of life.

Finding happiness,

 Searching answers new escapades
 Or call me an aimless wander-
-ing twit, round pink bubbles re-
 flecting yesteryears
 rise to future folds-
 of time(s)’wither
 happiness
 finds it-
 self.

This is a nonet( a nine lined poem in which the first line consists of 9 syllables. Gradually the number of syllables recede by each line and the last line of a nonet consists of just one syllable) written for Sadje ‘s Prompt What do you see?. My new school is wonderful! And my classmates are lovely too. Apparently I am in a section which consists of new kids only! This makes each of us a bit nervous but we can all relate with each other well. I have made some new friends and happily let go of trepidation and fears about new school or competition for studies. Even when I have thoughts of self doubt, I simply let them in, and engage myself in something or the other! This has made me more calm and helped me to embrace the change with joy!

~ Kunjal Gupta

Stormy days…

The weather is totally off beat today. From the past two three days, we are facing either a light drizzle or a complete downpour. I did not expect such a weather in the month of March when it is usually warm and sunny, and balconies are wrapped up in beautiful sunshine. But the sun never seems to come up, always appearing like a light patch behind folds of grey grey clouds. I am not complaining, but the ground in which we all play, often gets wet. Moreover, the days are too cool for my liking and I often find myself searching for jackets, when I should have packed them up completely.

Little drizzle pours,

Willy-nilly winds wrestle,

Whooping music blows.

~Kunjal Gupta

Also written for Moonwashed Weekly Prompt in which the writers were asked to use ‘willy-nilly’ in their posts.

His presence..,

Your voice is trapped I feel its unrest
The stolid fragrance moistening eyes,
Renders these walls shackled and bereft,
A weeping soul silently sighs.

The stolid fragrance moistening eyes,
Smear the windows with tears afresh,
Renders these walls shackled and bereft,
You look after the trees and the bird ‘s nest.

Smear the windows with tears afresh,
Glistening past, shuffling drill,
You look after the trees and the bird ‘s nest.
One cup of tea rests at the window sill,

Glistening past, shuffling drill,
I feel an unmoving unwilling remorse.
One cup of tea rests at the window sill,
Two souls feel each other ‘s presence.

I feel an unmoving unwilling remorse.
Renders these walls shackled and bereft,
Two souls feel each other ‘s presence
Your voice is trapped I feel its unrest.

~ Kunjal Gupta

This poem is penned for the W3 Prompt hosted by Punam Sharma, in which she asked us to pen a pantoum on abandonment. This poem touches upon the love between an elderly couple, which persists even after the loss of the loved one……

What is an pantoum?

• The pantoum consists of a series of quatrains rhyming ABAB in which the second and fourth lines of a quatrain recur as the first and third lines in the succeeding quatrain;
  • Each quatrain introduces a new second rhyme as BCBC, CDCD;
  • The first line of the series recurs as the last line of the closing quatrain, and the third line of the poem recurs as the second line of the closing quatrain, rhyming ZAZA;
• The design is simple:
  • Line 1
    Line 2
    Line 3
    Line 4
    
    Line 5 (repeat of line 2)
    Line 6
    Line 7 (repeat of line 4)
    Line 8
  • Continue with as many stanzas as you wish, but the ending stanza then repeats the second and fourth lines of the previous stanza (as its first and third lines), and also repeats the third line of the first stanza, as its second line, and the first line of the first stanza as its fourth. So the first line of the poem is also the last.
  • Last stanza:
    • Line 2 of previous stanza
      Line 3 of first stanza
      Line 4 of previous stanza
      Line 1 of first stanza

Who am I?

The rain is pattering down the earth,

Colourless and lacking so much

Water percolates deeper and unearths,

A profound aroma a joyous touch.

.

Who was I before I walked those steps-

Making my way on this wet soft land,

Was I, like the winds so much aimless

Had finally found its aim by someone ‘s hand.

.

 Why do I feel a throbbing high,

Though I have not moved a single step,

Glistening moist sky, fingers unfold high-

 Everything engulfed in a fist ‘s depth.

.

Little breaths, big breaths, long sighs,

Surmise the precious present,

Yet I feel the past drum, for presence vies,

And the presence of the unseen within.

.

Why do I feel that my stomach curling up,

Even though it has space plenty

When I am with another, I smile and picture-

We tread soft steps on this wet land in company.

.

Eyes curl uncurl,

Lips wither- it is my winter,

Twist untwist rage unfurls,

The ache rises my head in blisters.

.

 Pain ebbs the high unrest

I feel a throbbing high,

Even though I have not taken a single step,

All my life- it moves by.

.

Why instead the blood is not drained away,

And I am soaked out of my life hence,

Why do I have to revisit the old times again,

The magic of the unseen ends..

.

The throbbing pain making gains,

Unleashing and twisting in a blind game.

Why, does it end here or I begin again?

An aimless wind hissing away…

~Kunjal Gupta

Moving on~ A Musing,

It was a beautiful morning. I was sitting in the lap of the sun, enjoying the sunshine along with my plants. The sky was tastefully a lovely shade of light blue. A cool breeze was blowing and I could hear the noise of children playing in the park. Leaves danced in the gentle breeze. After many days of rain, the sky had finally broken to give in sunlight. The weather was pleasant! I was though a bit sad.

 Khushi, one of my good friends was taking up another stream. She was taking Humanities. (Political Science, History, Geography, English). Previously I had invited her to my birthday party and Sunita. Sunita was also in class 10 and we were in the same school. She lived in my society and there was not much I could do about social customs. I had to invite Sunita as she knew me and lived in my society. She who may, on no invitation may feel hurt. I had also thought that it would be better for me and Khushi to have another person to talk to.  So, I invited both. Khushi came first. She gifted me a canvas painting on the occasion of my birthday. It had various shades of green, yellow, pink, and light green. It was an amazing gift!  Sunita after 30 minutes or so came as well. She gifted me the first and the third book of Kane Chronicles. My only two guests had arrived.

We instantly started catching up. Topics such as old times, school, books, new atmosphere were talked about. Music taste, Movies and Hobbies were completely exhausted. Khushi talked about all kinds of adult web series she had watched. Sunita agreed and talked about her own share of movies and web series. I felt a bit disconsolate as I had watched none of the things they were talking about. When the topic of comedy films arrived, I interjected and said ‘Well, Hindi Bollywood movies rock in that area!’  I saw both crinkling up their faces. According to Khushi, English comedy films were the best and Hindi comedy films were my type of movies. As always, Sunita agreed and disagreed to my arguments quite politely. When at last I had nothing to contribute, I remained silent and listened to their conversation. They did not invite me to their conversation of course. It was basically about how by taking subjects like History, and Political Science in grade 11 they would get the time to socialise and widen their horizons. ‘Science peeps won’t get these opportunities, and I am glad I am taking Humanities because then I would be able to participate in all sorts of competitions. I would have not been able to do so had I taken Science stream’ Sunita said… Okay I thought ‘here they go’. Blaming science as the reason for all their discomforts in front of me who was taking Science in future. I had not meant to get irritated or angry, as I knew that the coming two years of a student ‘s life decides the course of future, the college and whether one would be able to clear the exam one wishes to. If I focus only in the gamble of socialising and on participating in every other activity, I would not be able to focus on my studies. I knew this.

 But the other girl Sunita repeated the same facts again and again. I saw Khushi energetically agreeing to each of them.  I felt angry. ‘Sunita was trying to take away the only good friend I had’, I thought resentfully.

This resentment grew into suspicion and soon into a great hatred for Sunita. I thought that she was spoiling my birthday party.  All the negative emotions however were contained in a brief solemn smile in front of the girls. Soon the cake from Sugar Daddy Bakes arrived. They both giggled together on hearing ‘Sugar Daddy’. But what was the joke, I could hardly understand. I had understood one thing though. Khushi ‘s interests did not match mine at all. We have been always too different. It was clear that day.

The next day, I had caught the cold and got fever. Therefore, was tied to my soft bed. It was not a nice feeling I tell you.  I felt as if ants were crawling all over my body. There were rocks of pains here and there. Body aches can be dreadful. I was reminded of my mom and dad who had gone to office. I was alone at home. ‘Am I dying?’ I asked myself. On slapping myself I realised I was completely fine. But being on bedrest meant that I could not control the thoughts flowing in my mind. I instantly started thinking about my good friend drifting apart from me. The upsurge of resentment against Sunita started bubbling again. ‘It was enough!’, I decided. I called Khushi and expressed my apprehension regarding our ending friendship. I also expressed my profound dislike for the other girl Sunita.

‘She was nice. And besides, you would have two Science sections. You will have new people to talk to.’, Khushi said. After I hung up, feeling extremely low, I decided to call up other people. A psychologist had instructed me to talk to other people.  That suggestion did wonders. I talked to other people and a very close friend from my dance class. She was elder to me. I discussed all my issues with her and we had a good laugh as they were all for nothing! I soon realised at this juncture, that I did not really share any interests with Khushi. I should not tie myself to her and prevent myself from experiencing something new. Something wonderful.

My fever also lessened a bit. Probably fevers do if the person who has them cheers up a bit. By evening I was alright. I realised that I could make new friends and that it is very important that one should not tie oneself to anybody. For, what pleasure will you feel then when you always act on the whim of other people ‘s wishes? It was a very important realisation for me. Thus I record this in my blog and share it with my WordPress friends.

 Though I am not sitting in the lap of sunshine right now, I can see it washing the whole balcony as well as the plants.

It could be me bathing in sun’s light and not darkness. It could be me enjoying the start of a new beginning . Life moves on just as Nature does :

Sizzling stormy sky,

Rain pours-twigs falling apart,

Nature grows older.

~Kunjal Gupta

Dreams Or Escape from Reality?~ A Waltz Wave

Mes-
Merize
en-
tice come
hither, ah
silky
dreams
meant to
just saunter
and thus neglect-
ing with ease,
the truth
that
fluid,
dreams whisper-
ing things,
may
not hold
true…

Fanciful dreams can happen to anyone. We can’t deny that even adults do not have dreams. But too much imaginations can make one adrift away from what one is doing at the present moment. Dreadful ones, for instance, can prevent us from experiencing something real good. Like for instance, a weird imagery about coming across a person you don’t like at all at an event, may prevent you to from going into that event. This happens with me all the time But I try my best not to attach myself to such thoughts and go even if these weird imaginations make me feel uncomfortable for sometime…And a good outcome can make me suddenly think I will become a rich lady! Well that is just too heavy to think right now! But, does that happen to you too? Living in the present is much relaxing and most of the times the hardest to do!

~Kunjal Gupta

---

What is a waltz wave?

It is a one-stanza titled poem, with nineteen lines and each line has a set number of syllables:

 1/2/1/2/3/2/1/2/3/4/3/2/1/2/3/2/1/2/1

---

Life ‘s rush~ A Waltz Wave,

Feel- 
 Ing the
Weight
 Of end
Less what ifs
 what if
This
 The blue
 Climbs on me,
  And I am not,
sailing high 
 up There! 
  It,
  Sinks in,
 Gateways call
  Behold
  ing,
This,
 rush...

---

This is my first attempt at Waltz wave inspired by a post by The Skeptic Kaddish. This was penned for Sadje ‘s Prompt. I was inspired to write about a moment of spiralling doubts. In a confused state of mind, we often try to find the outcome of our decisions and escalate to the point of being highly doomed or successful in future even before taking the aforesaid decision. According to me, we all are more inclined to think highly negative first than positive about the undertakings of future. Like I have a habit of doing so( I know it is not a good habit!). Perceiving the multitude of changes in life all at once can make one mull about the life ‘s rush but it is I believe, only by being there in the present moment can one really feel the beats of this muted rush…

~Kunjal Gupta

On this day,

Red,
Hearts fill,
With Warmth and
Love- though it has
Shades- blue black and dusk,
Times unwelcomed in the,
Presence of old and new dears.
No lotion that scrubs out scratches
No mirror that hides these old marks just~
Wondrous moments lived and lost to new year…

~Kunjal Gupta

Also inspired by prompt At Moonwashed