Killing solitude

It’s hot out here, on my terrace. No, usually mornings are warm. This day has a different way of greeting us fellow humans. It makes no sense. Only until yesterday, I enjoyed the flaming tea in a not-so-flaming abode. Out in the open.

I like to start my days with the energy I need for the rest of it. And, my neighbor agrees today saying only but my words.

“The heat is abnormal today. It’s extremely troubling, right?”

“Yeah man, I don’t understand!”

Photo by Bob Clark

Clearly, my childhood had no such event where I hated the sun. For that matter, we played cricket without stopping a second under those scorching skies. Really, it was much better of a summer before.

And now it has come back, only to tell me how I’ve failed. How humanity has failed in keeping our sweet abode safer for ourselves. We are the ones who’ll even pay the dues. We are procrastinating like this is any assignment. But, I am sure it’s a test on our integrity.

To the Sun, I say, please don’t rage on my planet. It’s not responsible for what happened. It’s not responsible for what will happen. But, only me.

Polar Flair

Hidden are not the secrets anymore. It’s mostly my lack of care to the shallow depths. Our poles are right here on the single piece of land we place our foot on. Walking to the top and one day falling prey to the mistakes done winningly. We will be paid. And, we won’t be making any money but only the ashes of this wonderland.

Takes a lot of courage, you know, to live without the food you were meant to eat. Fishes don’t just swim around, to fall prey. They just die quicker to even swim these days. To seal off the hunt, seals have gone underground and birds are taking longer to find their prey. Hidden in the hell would be choices of the man.

Talking of hunts, the ones like me who can still do, do hunt. I see the man growing dumber and wildly with these chic devices. Tapping on petitions more than their garden beds. The plants are dying of heat, do you not need the water? Or, are there no trees where you live? Find them, please. For the hidden secrets of the planet are mostly gone by now, and we need to find them.

– Pandora.

Poem on the word “Below”

I’ll write a poem today. Because, I am not very good at it.

Buy Me a Cloud

Below the mighty whites
Under the shiny bright

Dove, you see me smile
And we don’t know why
Why do we see us cry
Why do we see us fly

All there is, is to love
The sight of the blurry dove

The blurry dove sings me shy
Even now we know why
Our land worries it will die
And we worry will we survive

All there is, is to love
The sight of the blurry dove

Dove, you see me now
And you know no why
Why do we see us cry
Why don’t we just go and fly

I used to write poems in my school. There’s so much I need to work on, and yet these poems I write always bring a sense of joy. Maybe the joy comes from the first time I did it. Because, I don’t think I’ll ever be or even want to be good at this.

Staying at home seems to get tiring only at rare times where the feeling lasts for hardly a few seconds. Because this experience is of it’s first kind to me, and I might just have ways from before. Before, I too have stayed at home for long times not wanting to go outside. It’s not the kind of life I’d want to live or even motivate. But, if it matters to bring down the rhythm of this crisis – we all need to do it.

Clouds, like all the times, were even more amazing to watch today. I made a video, which you can find here.