Skip to main content

IIFT Diaries #103: Life of a bouquet

I am a bouquet
My life began yesterday

Gathering all sorts of flowers, the florist could get
I was brought to life at the SDA market

Piece by piece and part by part
These flowers became a part of my heart

Held together by a harmonious string
I was excited about life and the adventures it would bring




Brought to the stage, enclosed in a silver wrapping
I felt overjoyed seeing all the people clapping

Flaunting reputed companies’ logos, stood a tall banner
Under it sat dignitaries in a sophisticated manner

Now, before I could have a chance
To take another glance

In a brief rush of moments, I exchanged hands
Then left forgotten in some forsaken lands




Stood beside me two acquaintances, I had just made
A bottle of Kinley and a bottle of Minute Maid

Such a huge crowd who would not adore
But these two remained indifferent to all the galore

They say it’s nothing new they are witnessing
It’s in their JD to be part of such a gathering




On and on, the Trade Winds blew
Lulling everyone to sleep, barring a few

Then the people dispersed for a tea that was high
And I was left behind under the hexagonal sky

For who does care, about an ordinary bouquet
Will be replaced by another, the coming day!!





Thanks for your time, guys!!


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Whispers and Words #1

*** Finding solace In an air-conditioned space, The city slept While I wandered the streets, Restless, Perfecting the ending Of a sentence. The cool breeze made me forget That it was a summer night. Then, out of nowhere, A cold whisper Sent a shiver down my spine. "You have to choose, my friend. Be a writer or be content." "Why can't I be both?" I asked the emptiness. And the whisper scoffed at me, "You and your consistent pursuit To get the best of both worlds. Buckle up then! You are about to be tested." I stumbled over a rock And found the ending I was looking for. "If a river wants to meet the sea, Twisting and turning, It will somehow find its way Even through the mountains." If a whisper could smile, It did, and said, "We will see." *** I don't have a million readers - not by choice, obviously - just a handful. But they mean to me as much as the millions would do. And one of those readers reminded me that I had taken a lon...

LIFE AND LIES #67 | The Shortest Story

Dedicated to a friend of mine who is no longer in this world. ********************************* A friend had died. Still, the world  Hadn't come to a stop. Perhaps, it should have. Because I gave my presentation Smiling from ear to ear. And later at night, I drank to my fill To honour him. Because life is too fricking short, But at times, Feels too bloody long. If you google 'Shortest Short Story' You'll get the following result: "For sale: Baby shoes, never worn." Popularly attributed to Ernest Hemingway. Ernest, I'm sorry  But I ended up writing  Something similar myself. "Hang in there, my friend. He did." I'm not proud of what I wrote.  It is what it is. "Who is this about," my friend asked after reading my poem. "He was my batchmate in school," I replied. "He committed suicide yesterday by hanging." "Why? What happened?" "Nobody knows. He had cut himself off from everyone." "Was he i...

LIFE AND LIES #61 | The Summit Within

Dehradun to Sankri On an early morning, towards the end of March, I was sipping a cup of tea in Dehradun, surrounded by a bunch of strangers loading their backpacks on a traveller which was going to take us to Sankri, the starting point of Kedarkantha Trek. A thought struck me. Somewhere around this place, not so long ago, Ruskin Bond was racking his brains to come up with the name of a fictitious town. Subsequently, he came up with the name: Dehra, having spent his early adolescent days in Dehradun, the place which inspired many of his characters and stories. Ingenious, huh? I am struggling with a similar challenge. Let’s see what I come up with. I finished my tea. And soon we headed on our way. The first view of the mountains came when we were about to reach Mussourie. A smile spread across my face automatically in its unique way, like it happens when you meet an old friend after a long time. I was hoping to spot Cambridge Book Depot on the way, or even Ruskin Bond if I w...