The Mirror

The mirrors face each other.
In all directions.
The mirror is a cube.

Each is blank.
Blanks reflect blanks.
Each reflected to perfection.

What if one of them tilts?
Infinite possibilities.
Of stories or similarities?

Approval

Dark hall,
A person standing.
There is a glow,
Of darkness.

His eyes look,
And sees himself,
Reflected in your eyes.
It is dark,
He cannot see.

His world is within,
You, the outside,
Is in him.
The hand reaches out,
Bloodied, shivering.

You cannot hold it,
You cannot see it.
It is dark.
He stands there.
Merging with the wall.

It is dark.
He is old.
He wants your smile.
You cannot see.
He burns in himself.

Anger

Brown twig,
On the ground.
Bent upon itself,
Stiff.

Small shoots
And buds.
There was life.
It once bent in the wind.

Now it lies,
Among the fallen leaves.
Who have lived.

Fear and Longing

The centre.
Black tinged with chocolate.
Magneta?
Throbbing Flesh.
Pink, Red.
Streaked.

Where is the child?

Looking without?

Perplexed eyes?
Pained?
Uncomprehending?

But I KNOW.
I can see.
Shall I step in?

But it is all me.
Everywhere.

The other is without.
Everywhere.

How do I step out?
To be in?

Migrant

They stand
Like a bunch of flowers,
Dumped in a large vase.

Fallen to one side
Each huddles with the other.
The open vase fills with dread.

I pass by,
And smell the fear.
I refuse to acknowledge.

I will, by myself,
Walk with dread,
In the vast open space.

Sunset at the farm

Was at the farm yday evening. The puppies (one with the tail and the other without) starting jumping and running around us- waiting to be petted.... which we did (dirty as they were.).
I noticed that one of them (tail less one) was looking woebegone and wondered whether he was ill. Turned out that he was. Damu mama (caretaker) said that he had fed coconut oil to the puppy and that had improved him a bit, but not enough.....and he was on his way out.. So that was that.
The eleven eggs that the hen was sitting on had hatched and so there were eleven chicken foraging around. Due to some reason, none of them had hair on their neck, so all of them looked around like small children with severe military haircuts !

Info: Hens without hair on their neck cannot be sacrificed to the Goddess and hence cannot be eaten ! Good for them I suppose.

In the last one month, we have had two sets of eggs hatching. I wonder what Damu mama plans to do with so many hens and roosters. I am not sure I would enjoy being on a chicken farm.

Info: Eggs do not hatch during the rainy season. So, rainy season is the correct time to eat eggs..

It was quite warm but as evening came on, it started to cool. We sat under the trees and watched the sunset. You see the trees gradually change color from green to golden to dark brown to silhouettes. When the breeze came, they swayed, displaying glimpses of their form before going back into themselves.
This was what Hokusai had painted.