Tinging a Tear

Have you ever tried to mix the ink of your pen

tear

into the tear fallen fresh

on your book?

Tinging a tear,

how surreal it sounds,

but try it comrade,

and you will love to see what happens.

How you can modify a bio-chemical reaction

of someone’s action outside your body

How the transparent salty product of your eyes

turns into teal, fuchsia or pitch black

How I wish I could colorize

my thoughts|actions|feelings in the same way

How if I could find a pen,

Whose ink could possess the power to affect me and

transform the work of a mortal.

Ode to my Morrie, Ms. Bindu Sharma

Ode to my Morrie, Ms. Bindu Sharma

-Avleen Kaur Lamba

maam

I’d name this an ode

As it’s a tribute and

Not for its metre and rhyme

Because a radical inhabits in me

And the theme sublime

And the person in mind so divine.

 

My mother dear pursued literature

and so did her mother in her times

After following dad’s software steps,

Accounts and Economics were also given a try

Thus, with apprehensions, I chose literature.

 

But with a glowing lantern in the starry night,

She wiped clean my blurred glasses’ sight

And boy, I fell in love.

 

People say love involves people,

She was there,

But I fell for prose

and I fell for verse.

 

While students cried and mumbled why

It had been three days she hadn’t commenced the syllabi

But couldn’t they feel, couldn’t they yearn,

Life is what we came to learn!

 

She started with music, lyrics and odes,

And then strolled in essays and plays,

Which needless to say,

Clearly swept us away.

 

Donne, Coleridge, Sydney and Bacon,

Are all what they mean to us because of her.

Her words

and her stories.

 

Sitting on the teacher’s table in her crisp saris

This maverick hypnotized us

And we reached a heaven full of

Greek Gods and English Romantics.

 

Tears cover my eyeballs

as I sit to write about a Goddess

remembering times when my hands

won’t stop scribbling every word she uttered

And then times I would just sit awestruck

Now I lie down on the winter grass,

Wondering how God could bestow me with so much luck!

 

Her words and life lessons

Are a part of me now

And they shall remain within

wherever I go.

 

For how love always wins,

For the phoenix riddle,

For death ending life, not a relationship,

For Tess and for Sorrow,

For Wuthering Heights and their terrible morrow,

For all of that and so much more,

How you’ll glow within me,

Forever and some more.

KENIN BZUZER

kenin The Xerox machine detected who had pressed the go button,                                                                     For there was another weight on the machine, the blueberry juice with a straw.                                 Bzuzer it was! A new intern came along, with something that smelled like wine.                               No, they weren’t friends, acquaintances, but both seemed sweet and fine.                                             The girl blabbered on what a big fan was she,         While Bzuzer, smiled and didn’t give a damn.                                                     He gazed at the intern’s eyes, then her lips.                                                   Couldn’t even get behind and manage to glance at her swaying hips.     While she talked as if she danced, Bzuzer poured himself coffee and went away.                                                                                                                    The lady saw the blueberry juice and the note below it, which read “7?”

I’m afraid of people who hide

I’m afraid of people who hide
-Avleen
I assumed I was mature enough to handle what people felt,
To know what they actually meant behind those carefully chosen words.
To comprehend what their big eyes were hiding behind the lying lids,
What would turn out to be when those colored curtains were raised?
What dreadful magic would those corneas posses?

What image would I see of myself?

But I’m afraid. I’m afraid.
I’m afraid of those who choose not to vent out,
You may scream and shout at me, and tell me how you feel.
You may curse too, but let me know what’s in your mind.
For I dont fear pain. Of any kind.
I don’t fear loss, or death.
All I fear is people who don’t speak their heart out.
For I have no clue what would follow.
A serene mirage or an erupting volcano?