Perplexed Perceptions!

In the three shades of sky and a hueful grey, I saw, happiness... In the laid back weekends and  hustling weekdays, I saw, happiness. In the tears of pride, with a flashing smile, I saw, happiness... Between the apple trees, cocooning together, In those lovers, I saw, happiness ... In dreams that shatter and ramblings that matter, In the urge to try and fail and try, I saw, happiness... Interview jitters and dapper youngsters, In the crisp white shirt and a paisley tie, I saw, happiness... Freshly bruised with a haversack on loose, Eyes on the summit and a firm stance, In her breathless struggles, I saw, happiness... From last minute embraces to messy goodbyes, From homecooked meals to extravagant dines, In their friendly alliance, I saw, happiness... In the basket of errors, Full of egos, In the art of letting go, I found, Happiness.

Temper tantrums of gullible toddlers, First tricycle rides with elder handlers. Silent touch of first love, And loud break ups with quailing noise. Babies and their nannies coddling, Old grannies, whiskey sipping. Anxiousness before dinner dates, Kicking it off with playmates. Inaugural meet with the first cigarette, Coughing it out with endless regret. Lonely benches with lonely people Girl friends and their gossip mingles. Muddy puddles with dirty feet, Bouncing children with cheeky fleets. Graduation caps in all their glory, Bouquet of daisies and a dress so flowy. Gaiety and remorse, It saw it all, A never ending chronicle, But the Lamp-post told me all.

What is temporary and what is permanent If we had all the answers, Won't we be impertinent to all the fate's favors. Crisp like the winter air was his presence becoming on me was his essence. Troubled eyes and sharp wit How can I forget his diligent insight. A recital in his own he told stories unknown A figment of imagination a momentary phase Enticing and enthralling our story propelled. If my dreams were to be produced He would be the director Of my theatrical debut, He would be the creator. The fictional element in my non fictional life Ceased to exist as the climax was reached A mystery himself He disappeared slyly What Enigma! What clandestine exit! Now that I rewind the tale He was never meant  to dwell As we all know: Not all stories are meant to last Most are Anecdotes  that always leave a cast.

Warm sips of coffee Frangrant paths that aren't mossy. Nonchalant endless moors Sudden outbreaks of warm swoons Mutton stew and flat bread Roses that are not red Joyful whispers of tiny birds Misty windows and the world blurred The tigress and her cubs Hungry workers enjoying grubs Dainty birds with red tails You and I in a fairytale Glooming eyes and tender smiles Prodigious mountains and boundless skies Stars to talk And a lovely walk Burning embers in a broken heart And all that mends with a chocolate tart.

The color of my skin is akin to the sublime sun, it's almost blinding. Is it the golden glaze it reflects or the confidence that creeps under? I wonder, I wonder. Like the moon, its covered in freckles, still undiscovered. stretched by the atrocities of the world, the swirled striae dwell unconcerned, on my body, so curved. The glittery glimpse of Aurora fails, but that of my dermis prevails. The vast expanse of brown, like coffee brewed, Ogling eyes on the tan supple The ivory gloom of matted white, A spectacle to the sinful mind. Olive,chestnut,almond and mahogany all in all , it screams agony, when will it breathe in harmony? Scrutinizing my shade, won't come to their aid, It will be portrayed only a disgrace, to the minds of human race. My skin is my essence, Blessed ,is its presence Now, Their folly comments, wont make amends.

The world is different When you walk through it. It has something to say to add to our knowledge. Spiced aromas that greet the Persian streets, Balming purity that surrounds the forests. And Fragrant frangipani screaming attention. The world is different When you listen It has something to say if only,we can perceive its white noise. Cicadas that hide in the weeping willows Whooshing of the oceanic waves, Chilly breeze that runs through the mountains and the shrill wing whistle of the humming bird. The world is different when you look at it It has something to hint to add to our processed collectibles. Humongous glaciers white as a sheet Oasis in the middle of Sahara, Rafters that cut through the Ganges, History and art; modern and contemporary brought to justice at the Guggenheim. The world is different when imagination empowers, Vivid analogies it stirs, if only you feel what you read. Heightened sens...

The depth of my heart is Overlooked, But, my deep cleavage is not. The power of my words, Unnoticed. But that of my vagina, boasted. The modulation of my voice, Unheard. But that of my clothes, loathed. My sass, disgusted. My haughtiness, repulsed. My lips, they like plump. But no smack, no expression, Till I slump. My bosom perked, but not proud Me... a fantasy. But my fantasies, Prude! Upright must be my tits, My gaze? Stare down you insolent Bitch! Round and round circle my notions, Equal status scans through my emotions. But. my round bottom is all that catches attention. Supple skin is a sign of beauty, Must be hidden beneath thick finery. My thighs, demoralized. My shoulder, exposed. My spine, pulverized. Sex, tabooed Slut shaming, fostered. My body, sexualized. My wit, mortified.