Coffee concoction craving cups, Chilly crushed chutneys Culinary crying compassion... Cacophony, commotion. Collapsing cutleries Courtesy... Clumsy cooks Culinary crying compassion... Cacophony, commotion.
Culinary Cacophony
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Poetry
Correction Woes
I fear as I sit down to correct, English becomes a dreaded subject Cutted, drawed, noledge… what not they write, And I can just cry over my plight. Poetry Style : Nashers Pic courtesy : Unsplash First published in Penmancy for the Taleathlon 5...
With Friends
Joy is in the air, With people who care We blend. Our sorrows, we share, Together, shed tear Hearts mend. Placed, no matter where, Our feelings we share, With friend. Poetry Style : Lai Pic Courtesy : Unsplash First published in Penmancy as part of the Taleathlon 5...
Ms. Brook
My lovely aunt Ms. Brook, loves to cook, Oh.. Nothing from the recipe book. Wonderful tales she cooks, just like that, Masala she adds, leveled and flat. Poetry Style : Nashers Pic Courtesy : Unsplash First published in Penmancy for the Taleathlon 5 event...
Kargil
The snow-capped mountains Pristine white and serene. None expected an attack, But fatal it was when it happened. Our heroes in white and green, Always alert, ready to move, Sprang into action immediately, Neutralizing the enemy was their only priority. ...
कार्गिल
बर्फ से ढकी कार्गिल की चोटी बारिश गिरती मोती की भाँति। इन्हें चूमता गुज़रे अंबर कार्गिल, हो तुम, अति सुंदर। चाँद पे दाग समान घुसपैठियों ने किया वार। भारत के माथे पर लगी गोली, और शहीदों से भर गई कार्गिल की झोली। खून से लथ-पथ माँ की रक्षा में निकल पड़े उसके वीर हर्ष में।...
The Locked Room
All of ten or eleven, They dreamt of heaven. Fate had evaded their dreams When they ended up in locked rooms. Dingy, dirty, dark, Oversized attire with a mark,, Their lives had no meaning, Future, well that looked bleak. Schools were mere words, Insults pierced like...
Glorious Nature
Life sprouts, flourishes, With hopes, determination Spring just breathes freshness. Give up, just move on, Autumn's mantra for mankind. Quite sensible right? Losing everything Yearning for warmth and comfort, Winter, harsh teacher. Summer teaches...
My Pride, My Sari
In English we say, A fabric that's at least six yards long, worn by Indian women. In poetry we say, A fabric that carries memories and fragrance Of our grandmother and mother. A fabric that is our solace, Giving us warmth. A fabric that sniffles with us in our...