Skip to main content

LIFE AND LIES #94 | One Last Smoke

Far away from intruding eyes,
The ritual begins.
For one last smoke,
We light the flame.

Cherishing a moment's peace
Before the bitter end,
We inhale the toxic fumes
To exhale a heartfelt goodbye.

The smoke ascends
To form a swirling mist,
Painting a picture
Of good times gone by.

The flame goes out.
The smoke clears away.
A beginning comes to an end.
We go our separate ways.

***

Dedicated to a friend.




Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

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...
1 comment
Read more

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...
Post a Comment
Read more

Whispers and Words #6 | On Your Shoulders

*** Strutting on the dais, Dressed up for the occasion, In a flurry of footsteps, You collect your degree. A weight off your shoulders, Your joy knows no end. Dashing out of the crowded elevator, Your bag single-strapped, In a room of sparkling white, You deliver your presentation. Green as grass, still you feel Head and shoulders above all. Trudging past the empty bullpens, Your bag double-strapped, Late into the night, You punch out for the day. With your shoulder to the wheel, Seven years have gone by so fast. *** This poem commemorates my completion of seven years in corporate life. Although the time passed in my presence, I still find it hard to believe. Do you share my feelings?  Leave your thoughts in the comments below.
1 comment
Read more