I had flown under the lintel to avoid the storm’s carnage,
Little did I know, I’d find you there locked in a cage.
“You’re a Robin like me!”, I exclaimed , “We aren’t meant to be confined!”
She gave an discontented smile and replied, “Believe me, I am fine.”
“I am my master’s favourite prize, he boasts of me to guests,
He brings me food whenever I ring this bell, I must be truly blessed.
He saves me by eating the toxic fruits and feeds me the delicious seeds,
He loves me so much that he gets enraged if someone else touches me.”
Tag: slave
The Jar
“One order fulfilled, one turn of the lid”
I will never forget this phrase, or its variations, for the rest of my short life.
I still remember the day when I opened my eyes and saw that ugly opaque lid above me, the lid of the jar in which I was kept. Looking around, I found that my jar had only four things inside. A bed, a cupboard, me and my thoughts. The last thing was the dearest to me. In my thoughts I could see myself flying above the hills with the birds, occasionally coming down to eat fruits from the trees and drink from the river. In my thoughts I was not a captive of the jar.
Fortunately the walls were transparent, so I gazed outside. There were others, similar to me, but different in every way. All of them dressed the same. Neither did they talk to each other, nor did they seem to think. Those robots seemed to roam around lifelessly in specific paths at specific times.
At first I was least bothered about my situation. The cupboard gave me almost everything I could ever ask for. Books. Pictures. Food. Fancy clothes. But not people. Not freedom. Soon, I longed for someone to talk to me. I longed to see the bright blue sky for once. So one day, I went towards the nearby wall and called out. Continue reading “The Jar”
The Carver
Hands bleeding, blood and sweat streaming, he’s done something laudable,
Twenty hours of carving rock in hell, he did the impossible.
The ending siren tore through the ears and cried with a shrill,
“Behold! It’s a living stone swan, but yet it stands still”.
The carver gives out a sigh, his smile knows no bounds,
The audience goes crazy, but his rivals don’t make sounds.
The teary eyed winner is taken to the factory owner, who says:
“Congratulations carver! You’ve done the best one, by God’s grace!
Look at all those feathers, they seem ruffled and yet so clean!
The texture, strength and balance, it looks so pristine!
Its eyes have life in them, as if God carved them Himself,
Its elegance is breath-taking, totally top of the shelf!”
The carver can’t hear them, his dream has come true,
He did something that everyone had told him he couldn’t do.
He reached a place similar to where his idols had been ;
Like Shakespeare did with King Lear, and Ronaldo with his feet.
The owner is still in awe, “How many nights didn’t you sleep?”
“How many days did you train?”
“Astounding! Just lay on this bed here,
And we’ll take out your brain.” Continue reading “The Carver”
The Living Writes 