Five-Minute Riot

they streamed out,

in quick succession—

holding handkerchiefs

to their noses, some

emerged with their eyes

watering, others were

coughing,

siren blaring the coda

to what unfolded

inside, burning eyes,

.

the five-minute riot

bifurcates

sense of accomplishment,

to the bingeing

on bad behaviour,

unprecedented,

a gross miscalculation,

the plan nixed, to allow

today’s debacle,

lost…

.

A 55-word erasure poem for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads. Worded after massive erasing of text but in serial order of course, from here.

Image source

Keys- A 100 Word Story

She reached her small barrack after a two-hour long train journey.

“I have to get a job nearby,” she was looking for her keys but couldn’t find them.

“Mam, here, I have got your keys,” spoke someone from her behind, “You dropped them at the station.”

“Oh! Thank you sir,”  she thanked the gentleman while turning back to look at him.

He simply handed her the keys and left.

She kept looking at him walking for a while and once he was lost in the crowd, she faced the door again with her keys and a single tear in her eyes.

 

A scarlet painting on the sky…

A scarlet painting on the sky

dotted with the white wisps of cloud

like the blood that taints the shroud

of the corpse with a smile so wry

 

one could hear the sound of the cry

emanating somewhere from the crowd

dotted with the white wisps of cloud

a scarlet painting on the sky

 

the corpse’s skin would wither by

but what about the promise he vowed

the seed, in the womb of his love, he sowed

towards the sky, gaze upon, her eye

a scarlet painting on the sky.

The One Who Stands Alone

Sometimes it becomes difficult for me

to know who can be a friend and who can’t be one

I thought I succeeded in making some of them

but ended up knowing I was still alone, outcasted

for the reason, that I don’t know.

I remember I have always been an outcast-

a distinct personality, a leader in himself

with neither followers nor supporters,

the person who always stood alone, that is me

Is it good for me or not to be like this,

that I don’t know but what I know is that

I won’t mind standing alone in the crowd

but I would never lose self-respect,

never will I become your tail-

I will always stand for what I find right-

friends or not, even if the courtesy of

acknowledgment you take away

from me, I won’t mind

standing alone because that is who I am-

the outcasted one, the one who stands alone.