A Dreamer's Destination

Photo by Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash What If poems read each other, would they fall in love with each other, or their poets or would they elope in search of the long lost lovers these poets barely take the name of but have a minimum of 15 lines, a winter and an unanswering sky  in their poems? (C) Vasanthi

Photo by  Drew Colins  on  Unsplash    In 6th grade, a group of girls  refused to take me in  for an intra-school group dance competition, some thought I didn't look good enough to be on stage, some thought I didn't dance well enough to be on stage, they danced for Aaja Nachle, the irony of it all. I have no hatred for any of those girls, I don't even remember most of them, they did only what they knew, the problem with that incident  especially at the age of 11 or 12, is that I was never angry with them  as much as I was with myself  for not being good enough. Today is international dance day, so much has changed since then, dance has meant a lot of things over the years to me, so this is to remind you  that the stage will never define what it is to move your body to the rhythm of your soul, to feel sweat dripping down your elbows, so this is for you  who dances in the shower, who dances in your bedroom, who dances on a friday night with a closed of group of friends, who c

Credit: Sheela Pillai You tell me you have to go. After travelling all the way to steal the ecstasy from my eyes, you tell me you have to go. "Why?" I ask. Will some more time hurt? I wish I could freeze the moment when sliced the wind into pieces of tranquility, I wish you never left. What is it so enchanting that's drawing you back? Tell me, I won't be hurt, for I am not telling you that I am enchanting enough for you to stay, I am but a wanderer, too enchanted by the legacies of all the racing clouds and the bleeding sun, but again, do I have to be enchanting for you to stay? "Tell me" I ask again Tell me what is that you go back in search of, the very second you meet me. You tell me you are lost as well, in between all the slithering memories. You tell me you have to go back trudging along those limned locks of life, You tell me you have to go back to make sure that the five-year-old understands that going back sometimes means going home and somet

Friendship factory Cherry-dropped cakes stacked across glassed counters, my tiny pony tail dances in excitement, friendship oozes out of my eyes, as a 5-year-old, chocolate was my best friend; 19 years old now, nothing has changed. Yet again, like closely knit sweaters, it was family that taught us to share these cakes, it was family that taught us friendship. As the clock strikes four, door bells also ring. Our badminton rackets giggle at all our wrongs shots, the cars that we framed as our hiding spots might still want our fingers to run over its glasses to trace random patterns, I’m sure our cycles have heard our voices more than mobile phones, dear childhood friend, our friendship always rhymes with joy and innocence. We make all kinds of friends- that “When is the next train?” friend, “can you edit my picture?” friend, “I don’t understand this!” friend, “I now want coffee.” friend, “what is life?” friend and “Can I not wake up today!” friend. We are also friends with a

Sailing through her gasps, those fireflies, trespass the boundaries of heaven, to find her soul, dance recklessly, and her arms, move vividly, making pristine patterns of her eyes, that shelters the ecstasy of dissolving into a heart that bleeds poetry… (C) Vasanthi     

Picture Credits: Sheela Pillai She dreamt of the ripples that mirrored every word in her heart, she dreamt of the memories that kindled the past with heavy brushes, she dreamt of love-struck flowers  that yearned for shadows of the sun, she dreamt of all the wreckage the meteors had showered over her soul, she dreamt of the fingers  that burnt the fire, she dreamt of the voices that seeped through the rustic winds. She dreamt of him. She dreamt of her. She dreamt of everything the universe would never understand. She dreamt of you.                                                                    -Vasanthi