Ideas.


A speak of blue,
A silver speck,
A yellow blob,
A red freckle.

A mind in a maze,
The girl amazed,
Today a surprise,
Tomorrow a puzzle.

She walked towards it,
Or on its own it neared.
The problem cornered her,
Considering her dear.

Ideas million in her mind,
She always thought about them.
No time to do them any,
Time only a lame defense!!

One day all ideas disappeared,
And only a pool of abstract remained.
That day the ideas all ditched her,
No ideas now, NO PAIN?

-Stuti

Black Kohl.


Her eyes black kohl laden,
She dreamt but her dreams were black.
She tried to wipe the soot away,
But it stuck there, there in the deep black shack.

She didn’t know how to wipe the colour,
She didn’t know how to keep it,
She knew it had to go but,
The black too dense and bleak-ed.

Next day she did not apply the black,
She put some brown instead.
Surprising as this was,
At day ending, it turned black and dead.

She tried to understand the significance of this black,
A black blacker than black it was.
When finally she understood it (or so she thought),
The purpose of the black was to make the other colours SHOW.

-Stuti

The pink umbrella.


And as the rain peter panned on her window,
She picked up her pink umbrella and went for a stroll.
The rain slashing on her umbrella,
She felt uneasy.

Her choice of clothes, black that day,
Her choice of words, none that day.
The brown puddle of mud, gave her peace,
The wet roadside, as if made her tension release.

And then after she had walked down more miles than she realised,
Her yellow boots made some noise.
She paused, looked around,
And threw away her lovely umbrella in the air.

As the wind carried it away to she didn’t know where,
She said a silent prayer,
Not caring that her black mascara streamed down her face,
Making her black tee blacker.

It struck her why she must have chosen to wear this-
For neither tears, nor rain, nor the streaming mascara,
Could leave a mark on this colour,
And given her messy life now, she couldn’t ask for MORE.

-Stuti

the black rain!


She wore a black dress and a black mascara that day,

And applied a heavy layer of jet black kohl.

She wanted to hide her pain behind a colour that day,

and give some relief to her soul.

She happily stepped out then in her high black heels,

She looked nice and pretty today, her smile better than she herself and whole.

She wished everybody on the way that day,

and felt happy when she heard a little girl on the road squeal.

And then as if to give her company, the sky suddenly turned dark and black,

It very suddenly started thundering and raining, it suddenly became sad.

She had nowhere to run to and protect her from this downpour,

So she looked up and closed her eyes, and let her soul drown,

So in the heavy rain, the merciless pain just started showing itself,

For her pain the black could hide, but the rain chose to wash and be shown.

With the water, the black trickled down,

And in the end there was left behind, only a pain and a rather merciless FROWN.

-Stuti