INSOMNIAC MOON

INSOMNIAC MOON

Insomnia burgeoning against a crescendo of moon washed sky

Winter melts, drips on jagged mountains

Scintilla of a wandering star I am

As it fades into the empyreal chasm

Constellations eternally mocking the love

Wishing star Oh! Dying star,

You don't build dreams on tombs of the hallowed

Pieces of me are shards strewn like verses of songs

Incomplete and out of tune

Screeching and blaring, the echoes are haunting

Crocheted into my skin is a searing reminder

Of the berserk flashes of an exquisite montage

A lone satellite in a nomadic orbit

It's a tight rope amidst deafening delirium

With smouldering strands and bleeding ink

I mourn this void and masquerade Kryptonic !

Pic Courtesy:Pixabay

©️ Sangeetha Kamath

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ANAM CARA

The waves are soft and frothy. Laced with gossamer frills tenderly kissing the tips of my toes covered with the grainy sand of the rugged seashore where I'm sitting, wistful. A gust of briny breeze tousles my hair as I gaze as far as my eyes can see. A flock of terns wheel overhead, their sharp, shrill cries punctuating the air as they dive and swoop over the surfs. A lone frigate bird , its crimson belly dazzling like a jewel skims majestically above, its long, slender wings outstretched as it rides the thermals high above the ocean. I absorb the sights and sounds of the late afternoon while absentmindedly scooping seashells beside me. As the afternoon phases, the furthest rim of the ocean is fringed in a gilded hem and the sleepy sun yawns, its dipping glow streaking the sky in a mellow tangerine and warm cherry. As I continue sitting there, the ships and yachts appear --specks of light from the portholes glimmering in the distance, reminding me of the phrase “That ship has sai...

BOKETTO

In my quiet moments, I pause the world from its frantic pace. In that stillness, I wistfully gaze into the distance and just let things unfurl as they please. I let my thoughts flow, absorbing nothing. Internalizing nothing. And just like that, the strands of tightly woven twine untangle and the knots come loose. Today, as usual, I found myself caught up in the hustle and bustle of daily grind. I was rushing to get things done, stressing about deadlines, and feeling overwhelmed by the sheer amount of tasks on my to-do list. But then, I took a deliberate pause. With a deep breath, I stretched, stepped away from my desk, and walked out onto my balcony. Leaning on the railing, I looked down at the familiar lanes of my neighborhood, twirling around the corners behind the blocks of apartments. The park and playground stood deserted at noon amid the cluster of flowering trees and surrounded by the hedges lining the curbs. I gazed at the sky, feeling the warm sun on my face and ...

ARIEL AND BLUE-BLOOD SHOES

The waves crashed violently against the craggy mountainside and the moonlight shone on the lacy froths. As I waded through the water and stepped on the wet sand, I remembered another night which was many moons ago. The same glinting lights through the palace doorways and windows, the fireworks adorning the night sky like shooting stars and meteors. A royal celebration with all the works and the guests dressed up in their best finery and aristocratic jewelry. Of noble births they all were. Blue blooded as the matriarch had pointedly told me once. That unholy night! That night of icy hearts and howling laughter, the echoes of cackling that followed me till I ran on wobbly legs to find my place of comfort where the land met water… Hot tears streaming down, I regretted those days when I lost my heart to a man so spineless. Had I not dragged him to the shore, he would have been a mangled mass after being torn apart by the piranhas and other monstrous maws. How I regret…Oh!...

CHẠ̀WKHRĀW (Chxw̒kh rxw̒)

As usual, at the dot of 8 pm, the Guzheng plays its stirring chords, the haunting notes beginning a slow sweep, rising to a powerful crescendo and alternating with a tranquil ebbing of melody surfing me along the waves of soul-stirring, yet a serene stretch of an hour every day. I make it a point to sit right beside my dining room window to bask in this lulling sound therapy as my neighbor downstairs diligently plays on this zither, oblivious to my admiration. What a luxury it is to have a live orchestra while I savour the last meal of the day. It's a welcome distraction to the otherwise jarring squabbling of the playful neighbourhood children. The Chạ̀wkhrāw of this– that the musical household might move one day is a foreboding thought. Foreshadowing this, deeply ingrained in me is the shattering news I had received upon returning to Singapore after an 8 month absence here. The Ramadan festive season was fast approaching at the end of March but the apar...

HELLO FROM THE OTHER SIDE

The sleek steel grey landline with it's cordless handset gleams in the mid morning sunlight. It's only a fixture on the tabletop these past several years yet loved and flaunted for old times sake. Also, for the numerous times the handset had nestled in our palms. The vintage feel of it and the stronghold of memories I associate it with beats the smartphone by miles. It has in turn been a confidante of our precious moments, some idling talk, some annoyance oh yes ! and all before Whatsapp made an entry into our lives and the poor dear was no longer in demand. The world was at our fingertips. It doesn't complain, doesn't whimper, not even a sigh, murmur or a slightest hint at a whisper of life for the past decade and more! Except… On Thursday the daylights were socked out of me! Lost in mundane chores, I had my gloved hands deep in a pile of soapy water scrubbing away at the breakfast dishes. The usual swell of silence was harshly rend by the landline from the livin...

Sangeetha Kamath

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