foodforthought – Words and other Comforts.

So, www.the.aliporepost.com (and it’s corresponding Instagram handle) is celebrating poetry writing this month.

We are three weeks down, 10 days to go 😊

Week 3 Prompts –

Day 15 Prompt – Need

There it goes again,

dancing in the rain,

ignorant of any pretense,

this need of mine,

messy and untamed.

I let it run wild,

gleefully naïve,

till the rains mix with tears,

uncontrollable and fierce.

When it comes home,

I give it a towel to dry,

both the rainwater and cry,

then I sit with my need,

not saying a word,

for it knows no logic,

and just needs a tight hug.

We sleep over the grief,

long and deep,

and I wake up to find,

a steadiness to my need.

We learn to live together,

without hurting each other.

now that we know us better,

there is no fighting the feeling,

rather we find joy in the very being,

and like long stable relationships,

settle into a beautiful rhythm.

So, there it goes again,

dancing in the rain,

still ignorant of any pretense,

this tamed need of mine now,

calm and contained.

Day 16 Prompt – Favorite

I am surprised you even have to ask,
you will know her favorite,
every single time,
look a little closely,
and you will figure out,
it’s in the way she becomes quiet,
but her eyes get loud.

Day 17 Prompt – Love

Because love should need no words,
no definitions,
no spaces.
At it’s very basic,
it feels something like this ♥️

Day 18 Prompt – Burden

All these feelings,
he’s put aside,
screwed the cork tight,
so they don’t escape unknowingly,
and his world can sleep right.

Little does he know,
they’ve conspired together,
and sit building pressure,
till he won’t be able to,
hold them in any longer.

I wish I could tell him,
some of these were not his to begin with,
to uncork them free,
this burden he lugs around,
is not his to carry.

Day 19 Prompt – Meanwhile

Loud clinking of glasses,
fancy food platters,
lots of fake smiles,
overlapping chatter.

Meanwhile, no one notices,
as she grabs a wine bottle,
winks at her friend,
and they quietly slip out together.

Clutching firm their sarees,
they run out the side gate,
make a dash for their spot near the sea,
laughing all the way to their own party.

Day 20 Prompt – Bucket List

She looks at her bucket list,
makes a paper plane of it,
and lets it fly far,
the only tick that matters,
is the one she whispers close,
chai with her parents by end of the year.

Day 21 Prompt – Lost

That kind of hazy morning,
where I plug my airpods in,
amp up the volume high,
go through my music pile.

Make my choice,
a Coke Studio song,
seldom disappoints,
to drown out the noise,
both inside and around.

So while I continue jogging the usual way
I find my heart veer off and stray,
not to find some place to belong,
but to get lost in the glorious unknown.

Instagram handle – @words.and.other.comforts

There is nothing like the smell of freshly baked bread on a cloudy morning and the coziness of the warm kitchen with tea brewing on the side.

I have waited a year to get my hands dirty baking bread, making it seem difficult in my tiny brain with the complications around kneading and the impatience of having to wait for the dough to rise that many times. I wanted quick bread yet tasty bread and in the parallel universe that runs in my brain, I was sure there was a way to make that happen, just a matter of efficient googling on my part. Then last Sunday I just decided to put all those hours spent googling to actually try and bake a bread.

It’s just how life is and that day as the smell reached every part of my soul and as my hands with a dull ache from all the kneading felt used in a good way, there was a kind of dawning…an Aha moment! In a sense, it was me realizing that some things turn out better when you let them just sit and the ingredients mix in by themselves and give way to a wonderful creation. There is no short-cut to it and even if I create one, the end result may not be what I had dreamed of.

The clouds had cleared and I was ready to butter up a delicious warm slice to bask in my new found consciousness.

Tag: foodforthought

Un-rushed moments.

The Alipore Post Poetry Month – Week 3

A slice of Life, buttered up nice.