SCRATCH OF MINUTES

Once there was a chirpy bird, 
Mysterious in her own world. 
Loved her wings & the wind. 
This made her fly high…. 
The wind ‘o’ the wind! 
Was an apostle of enigma… 
The introvert was he, 
Never showed the actual demon. 
The bird on the other hand 
Never allowed anyone to know her

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

But somehow she expected the wind , 

To know & understand her…. 

Even though she knew, 

Expectations are always lost…. 

Yet  the  answer  perplexed 

As to how the wind she allowed.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Flying on her way… 

She met this unusual wind. 

Some feelings unfold, 

Some words unsaid, 

She moved towards the wind, 

And the wind towards her …. 

Suddenly it grew dark. 

With no ray of light & only the sound that mimed. 

As if everything was a spell, 

She lost her mind ,  lost her pride for minutes… 

In the magic of his words ,  alluded as divine.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The wind cuddled her, 

The tiny little soul. 

Wrapped around his arms,  

She said “let me go”. 

But the cyclonic wind dint, 

And kissed her chubby cheeks. 

and left his impressions three

And thrice her pride broke, 

In minuend fractions of few minutes... 

Realized herself and realized everything, 

She gained back her consciousness. 

Accumulated her strength , 

And escaped away from the demure wind. 

Afraid, perplexed, and lost her wings… 

She learned many lessons 

In these few minutes...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

On  the  bank  of  a  river , 

She  sat  alone  & cried . 

Her  pride  spilled  on  the  floor… 

And  the  invisible  crown  broke… 

Her  little  heart  got  crushed , 

And  color  of  blood  lost….

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Vanguard  & beleaguered, 

She cried with a sigh “why?” 

“Why it was me? Why I was the game?” 

“Why was me an instrument to the amusing muntjac?” 

Suddenly there came a leaf, 

Sent by the misty wind… 

On it was written, 

“Sorry if u mistake me”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The bird cried… 

Cried in agony, cried in vain. 

Hated the wind for the bulshit game. 

She was hurt, 

Hurt a lot & walked…. 

Walked with her broken heart, 

To the divine power & prayed. 

Prayed to forgive her, 

And the wind who hurt her… 

Lord said her to smile. 

She smiled and smiled and smiled. 

Mocked all through her way…. 

And hid all her tears 

Beneath the shadow of the day……