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Of Rain and Tea Stalls

Of Rain and Tea Stalls

by Aditya Mankad 0 Comments

If you stare long enough
at the bokeh of car lights,
you will see how insignificant
time is.

And yet here we are counting everything
in seconds and minutes and years,
trying to grab everything we can
with two paper hands.
(and it’s pouring outside)

 

If you stare long enough
at the trails of rain drops,
you will see how insignificant
a place is.

And yet here we are putting labels on our
luggage about the places we have been
and the places we will go just in
search of a home.
(and we are nomads)

 

If you stare long enough
in my eyes,
you will see how I carry
the rain and lights in them.

And here I am,
trying to defy what
rains and lights do
when you stare at them
long enough – disappear.
(and I am not even strong)

 

Featured Art by Aditi Shastry (@ekcup.chai)
Image captured by Shubhangi Pandey (@shubhangipandey27)

 

On a rainy day – Murakami

On a rainy day – Murakami

Maybe on a rainy day
If the sun decides to shine,
Don’t act surprised. Play along.
As if it is a ritual for over a hundred years,
(You’re 20 but you are an old soul too)
open your rucksack – pluck that copy of Norwegian Wood.
Page 317, line no 9
“I wonder what ants do on rainy days?” Midori asked.
“No idea,” I said. “They’re hard workers, so they probably spend the day cleaning house or stock-taking.”
As the sun breaks through the clouds,
but fails to reach your insides; smile.
It has been too long that they have believed it can fix you.
It can’t. Only you can.
Stock happiness in bits and pieces,
books and vinyls,
coffee and cotton candy
for rainy days like these.

I think the anatomy of my brain cells
is like that of the skeleton of ants.
Ants can lift 10 times their own weight.
My brain cells carry anxiety on its back and take it for long walks on rainy days.
So if on one of these walks,
the sun decides to shine,
Smile.

But if it doesn’t,
Don’t worry.
The sun might not
brighten your soul
but the rain will
wash your sorrows away.

 

The prompt was "Maybe on a rainy day if the sun decides to shine" given by Aishwarya Bhatt.
If you want a custom poem typed on a typewriter; submit a prompt by clicking here
Disaster

Disaster

In case of a forest fire,
People are taught to turn away are run.
Run till the glimmer of destruction
looks like a beacon of hope.

In case of an earthquake,
People are taught to find open fields;
lie down and sleep till the shaking ground
feels like a forgotten lullaby.

I have known love,
like I have known disaster.

So, in case of a heartbreak,
I run.
As far as I can.
As fast as I can.
Till all I can see is a beacon.
Till all I can feel is the humming of a lullaby.

And I land in a forest.
Pre-disaster.

City of Stars

City of Stars

*city of stars playing in the background*

 

I often go out on long walks;

palms a little sweaty

skies a little starry.

On nights like these

I often miss:

eyes to drown in

palms to fit it

lips to lock in.

I haven’t understood love

ever.

It has been like a foreign language to me.

I see people conversing in them; effortlessly.

And here I am,

a little too impatient,

a little too prone to

lose things in translation.

But on nights like these;

I am a little hopeful,

a little naïve.

I am blind to love.

Deaf to languages.

Scared to admit.

 

But on nights like these;

I am a little hopeful,

a little naïve.

So, appear.

I will be out on the walks

for quite some time.

Even a fortnight (If it comes that).

I still don’t understand love.

It is still like a foreign language to me.

But when you come,

I will raise my hand,

Leave messages on these stars

(that people write on rocks)

in dots and dashes – the way my heart

skips beats when I see you.

and hopefully,

you will know morse.

The prompt was "Night sky, the moon, stars, and of a romantic tone" given by Nivid Desai.
If you want a custom poem typed on a typewriter; submit a prompt by clicking here

Featured Artwork by Aditi Shastry. To see more of her work check out her Instagram
The girl who loved the oceans

The girl who loved the oceans

It was said that she used to carry

every favourite memory

with her; in a clenched fist.

every favourite thing

on her shelf.

and I would ask,

Where are the oceans

that you love with all your heart?

She would say

“Look into my eyes, silly”

And, I would drown.

Every

Single

Time.

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