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Not so young Fashion Graduate From National Institute of Fashion Technology (NIFT), Delhi, India. Aspiring journalist. Amongst other eclectic hobbies, she likes writing and has written several poems and articles over her school and college life and now for a living. She would someday like to be be a more popular writer than just on her blogs. 'Tis a lady of grand splendor, who waketh in my bed every morning while the sun beckons her towards night...

Wednesday, August 05, 2009

Full Circle

A water lily sinks
At a boys throw of a stone
Carefully aimed at it
for the price of a few marbles
The ripples going to eternity
Talking of the pain of the lily
And of the pond that had once sat still
To wait for the little one to bloom; Mute

A play of a boy, he dint hurt the lily
just killed it, unknowingly innocent
pleas to the heaven, silent.....
unsaid words of forgiveness
Now, as he watches his own child die
On the bed,at the dark corner of the room
himself stained with the little ones blood
Wife shrieking a maddening echo of the plea
the boy sinks into his death
the ripples of grief tearing ruthlessly
the heart of a father watching the ghastly death
Just as he saw his rapturous (sublime)* birth
And a lily blooms yet another time
the pond's been waiting for the little one

Written in 2005 or 06.. not really sure...
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