La Luna

I am the moon’s reflection

In a murky night puddle

Do I not want to flit among the fireflies?

But I am not the moon

(Though I could be)

Only its flattened image;

Here comes a shoe

Sending ripples through my body.

Vectors

Cycling in the rain today

Instead of a thought experiment, I tried a Physics one.

For a change, it worked-

If I went a certain speed, the rain didn’t drench me.

 

They talk about the beauty of Physics

But you see, the rain is not beautiful

Because of physics-

Vector additions and relative velocities

Could never capture it,

A single arrow and a Greek letter

Just aren’t enough;

Because even though they’re three-dimensional,

The rain isn’t.

This Thunberg-bashing needs to stop

Every time I think a new threshold for stupidity has been set and people couldn’t possibly go beyond that, they do. Always. Without fail.

This time, it’s trolling a 16-year-old girl who’s campaigning against climate change and trying to save the planet.

I am, of course, talking about none other than the braided messiah of climate activists- Greta Thunberg.

So lately, I’ve read a couple of newspaper columns, exclusively by bitter old Indian men, whose sole aim is to bash Greta Thunberg. They say that she is just an immature schoolgirl who knows nothing of world politics whatsoever and her passionate UN speech was a typical juvenile outburst which was aimed at nothing but garnering attention. They say that being white and privileged, and from a first-world country whose per capita carbon emissions stand at a whopping 4.5 metric tons, she has no right to take away the opportunity to a better life for ‘our children’; namely, children in third world countries like India.

Close your eyes and write a poem

Close your eyes and write a poem,

Because sights are beautiful

But god,

Look at the sounds.

Drug

I take a drug
That could put
Methamphetamine to shame
That’s more addictive than morphine
That can get you higher than heroin

It doesn’t make your hair fall
Or your teeth decay
It doesn’t make your liver rot
Or your kidneys stop
But it simulates your brain.

It inspires poetry
Better than weed
Manufactured by nature itself
No chemical reactions- just elemental
Between rainwater and earth
Petrichor.

Kaleidoscopic (haiku)

Rustling leaves filter

Kaleidoscopic sunlight

Emerald gilded

The nameless yellow-flowered tree

When Summer combs her golden locks

And lets a strand fall,

It reaches the earth and seeds

The nameless yellow-flowered tree.

Tales of the Wind

It howls in my ears

It ruffles my hair

It presses on my eyes

It slaps my cheeks

But most of all, it tells tales.

 

Tales from far, tales from near

Tales which can make you gasp in fear

Wind- raconteur of nature needn’t beg for attention

Without any permission, it begins its narration.