I am a blade of grass, Green from inside out, I am a small fragile life. The relentless scorching sun sucks every bit of life from me, The rains drench me from root to leaf; The wild animals crush me underneath their rusty feet; The men mow me from underneath the soil. The dew drops fall heavily on me.
But I still flutter with the passing wind which caresses me everytime it passes through me and my soul and Sometimes I open myself to the lovely red beetle to devour on me.
I am a blade of grass, I droop with the sunset with a promise to bloom gracefully with every sunrise.
Sometime, somewhere I will break into many moons – an oblique answer to a terrestrial question of a pale river. The heat is on, because of the fatal mistakes. Violence has pregnancy. Walls stand alone without a roof hauling the
“Why don’t we go to the park, father,” Asked the little boy, slipping his little palm into his father’s, “Like we used to every day Till a month back?” “Why don’t we walk around the park, father,” He asked, tugging