sub occasum solis

It set in golden hues.

some stood in black protest,

some danced in brief glitters,

others drifted through the blue.

Kiss & Tell

“I know what we need!” she said, reaching out to grab the squeeze tube.

“It’s because of all the hair” She said, only seeming a little apologetic at the thought. It was really hard to concentrate, given the fact that other people were waiting outside. I am sure they would have heard the groan of the bed under my weight.

She was still bent over the side of the bed I was on. I could tell that she was not used to this position. Her breathing became more labored. A lock of her hair now even dangled in front of her. 

“There it is!” she exclaimed finally, straightening up and tucking the lock of hair behind her ear. The gel itself was odorless, but I was sure it was going to leave a stain on my clothes once the deed was done. She squeezed out some of the gel on me and with her finger made little circles. I lost track of how much gel she used.

I was sure all this gooey plop noises would have perked up a few ears outside the room. She looked close to being done. Her movements were now crisper. She moved about with more precision, more purpose, She had to finish me off, the queue outside was not getting any shorter.

 “For the gel...“, she said, tossing some tissue at me. We were finally done.

I was spent. Waiting in queue for a whole day for an ECG as part of a full body diagnostic is no mean feat, and the fact that the nurse was unable to attach any of the ECG leads on my chest without the gel could have been the lowest point in the entire affair.

Just Desserts

She was cold. She was not alone, huddled together for warmth in the corner of the fiendish prison were a whole bunch of them. Just the other day she had been free, dancing in the sunshine. Then Came the hands, they brutally plucked her from her parents place and sold her to the highest bidder.

Bound and gagged with a lot of others she was transported to the city. Concrete towers and monstrous hands ruled this place she had been told. And now she was here, powerless, against her will. In frightening details she saw the maze of towers and the lack of sunshine.

The truck pulled up to the market, and what she saw, rendered her speechless. There were Hundreds… No… Thousands… In a similar predicament. Resistance was futile, she was dragged out of the caravan, washed and cleaned and put up for display at the very center of the market. Every one of those hands could feel her tender skin. She was the center piece of this sale. It was her season she was repeatedly told. The hands which plucked her were already anticipating how much this new lot of acquisitions will fetch them.

The first set of hands came, they touched and squeezed her. The hands now started on negotiating on her price. She was being valued by her skin color, her firmness, her smell… She was Premium, and her captors certainly marketed her that way. Juicy!! Tender!!  Firm!! Smooth!! Voluptuous!! Supple!! They cried out long into the hot summer evening.

The ordeal finally ended. A pair of hands had paid the required premium after caressing her, feeling her, smelling her, gently but firmly squeezing her. She began to hope. She thought of running away to freedom. She even hoped that this new master would set her free, and let her return to sunshine, back to her farm. But how naïve she was. These new hands put her in a cold prison, a huge ice box, and there were other also there. Like her the hands had paid premium for them too.

Not even a few hours had passed that the doors to the prison opened, a pair of hands dragged out a few of the inmates. The prison door was shut, but the screams of the inmates could not be blocked. They screamed, they pleaded and they cried, but to no avail … soon there was only silence… they were done for.  All she could do is console the ones left behind and shake with fear herself. For she knew it would be her turn soon.

The prison doors open, and the hands reach for her… She was prepared. She did not struggle. It started immediately, she was washed and dried and then the slow biting started. The hands held her and a mouth was nibbling at her. It slowly peeled her clothes off with its teeth and smirked at her. Then it started biting chunks of flesh off her. It was eating her alive. She was too petrified to even move, the last things she saw were the hands holding her and the mouth stained by her insides. And she was no more.

The hands after this calmly tweeted out “Cold Mango for dessert #FTW”

~Fin~

.underwater.

An Anchor that was set underwater.
A coral that bloomed underwater.
A glance, a smile, a kiss, and the bonds were sealed underwater. 
A riot of colors unleashed underwater.
While the mountains heaved underwater,
The forest in the valley swayed underwater.
While the locked embrace felt like an eternity underwater,
The great dance forever etched in unmemoried memories underwater. 
While the eruptions within cascaded underwater,
The waters glowed alike a wildfire underwater.
Rich hues had love made underwater,
With no thoughts of the beginning, or an end underwater. 
~*~

FOOTPRINTS

Footprints in the sand ...
Are meant to be Erased...


For they are like what the self desires, but cannot have,
The Waves of reality set right what should never have been.


Yet we continue to trod and run on the sand,
Never expecting the waves to erase them.
We are foolish Creatures Bound to Our hearts desire after all ....

~*~
Wrote this a while back, initially posted here.

Children of Smiles and Sighs

Life is cast with skies of constant change.
Sometimes bittersweet rain and other times warm sunshine.
We are but children of smiles and sighs.

Sometimes we dance of joy in the rain.
Other times we hide out from the storm.
We are but children of smiles and sighs.

We seek the warmth of the sunshine at times.
We seek the shade of the clouds at times.
We are but children of smiles and sighs.

Some flowers bloom in the rain.
Others wither in the sunshine.
We are but children of smiles and sighs.

Some butterflies flitter in the sunshine.
Others fall in the rain.
We are but children of smiles and sighs.

Some memories are cold and haunting.
Others are like a warm zephyr.
We are but children of smiles and sighs.

We follow fleeting hope, with burning hearts.
But all that is beautiful drifts away like the flowing water.
We are but children of smiles and sighs.

I find comfort in utter darkness,
Than to be in the sunshine or rain and see what might have been.
I am but a child of smiles and sighs.

~*~

Of Rides in the Darkness

The end most often is the beginning. For sometimes there is enough strength in the dying embers, to flare up again.

There is comfort in the darkness, when the hourglass is empty.
The ornament is broken.
There is fear in the darkness, when the ride is incomplete.
Picking up the pieces is an exercise in futility.
There are no distractions in the darkness, when the road is bittersweet.
What is broken will always be broken.
Darkness is absolute in the absence of light, but sunshine may be around the corner.
Just ride on to greet that sunshine.

The end is another beginning. For even though there is enough strength in the embers to flare up again. The fire that will rage will be different from before.