Butterfly Wings

First published in the literary magazine 'Balloons Literary Journal'; later reprinted in my school's yearbook.

Like petals of the sky- delicate, fragile
pirouetting with the breeze, with distinguished style
Reflecting golden shards of soft sunlight,
their presence though often, could never be trite
They flit between the shades of nature, flutter at a lilt
emanating beauty, enveloping the world like a quilt
brightening the pallor of every relinquished field,
able to rouse the flowers that have dolefully keeled
Dancers of the air- clad in crimson and lime
resembling fairies, unheeding of the passage of time
Frail and vulnerable, with the texture of ice,
through the air, they purposefully slash and slice
They latch themselves to the syrup of the flowers
unencumbered as the sun scorches and glowers
They flitter instinctively, as though in a trance,
they create an illusion for the senses, as they whirl and dance
Yellow like a daffodil, blue like a coral,
red like a dewy rose, colorations that are floral
Predictably, the awakening of the sun was too sublime to last,
as the clouds converged, their temper overcast
They billowed across, and began to trickle,
and on the pearly wings, began to pierce and tickle
As thunder rolled across the sky,
the beauties retreated, with a disconsolate sigh
The blithely painted wings moved with the gust,
gliding to safety with unrelenting trust
The violent wind whipped through the grass,
as comeliness vanished, having amassed
As the storm died down, the butterflies all disappeared,
leaving the fields looking subdued and austere

Speculations

Max rose apprehensively, and shakily made her way to the front of her class. She shuffled her weight between her two legs, and feverishly rustled the sheaf of papers she was clutching.
She cleared her throat and began.
"The topic for this term's speech is 'Earthly Mysteries and Corresponding Guesses'," she began feebly, comparing herself to her vehemently proclaiming classmates.
"Though my decision may seem like a digression," she continued, motioning towards those before her, "The term 'earthly' does not have to refer to something proximal to the Earth. It can also allude to something that the Earthly beings enjoy conjecturing about."
Emboldened by the observation that everyone sat up a little straighter, and that Mrs. Melli was listening intently, Max proceeded, heartened.
"So, after hours of deliberation- combining my innate interest for space, and childhood speculations- I have chosen my topic to be 'Our Universe'."
Cheeks flushed with excitement, Max launched into an eloquent recital of her thoughts.
"The Universe acts as a roof, a protective covering to our planet. It provides us with light during the day, and guides us at night. It provides the icy landscape with beauty- gorgeous, dancing colors. The sky depicts scenes from mythology and history. So, it would be appropriate to conclude that the Universe is as integral a part of the Earth, as the mighty oceans. Thus, its mysteries will be termed 'Earthly Mysteries'."
The class was silent, and Max's voice began resounding impressively.
"Humans are incapable of confidently concluding the precise limits to which the cosmos can extend. Scientists, and all their equipment, are just insignificant specks of knowledge and technological advancements, when placed against the backdrop of the Universe.
It is evident that we are only aware of a mere fraction of a percentage of the underlying mysteries of our distant surroundings. This is reinforced by the fact that the 'Largest Quasar Group' defies the laws of astrophysics, simply by living up to its name!
So, taking our oblivion into account, it would be fair to say that a few surmises by a curious girl will not undo anything."
Mrs. Melli was wide-eyed, stunned. Max resumed, reaching the climax of her speech.
"Could our Universe be a cell? A cell, alongside millions of others, thriving and providing life to an organism, whose size is so gargantuan, it's mind-boggling? Size is relative, so it will have no impact on that creature whatsoever.
And, this thought reminded me that cells operate in our person as well. Could these cells of ours, house a unique and dynamic universe of infinitesimally small galaxies, stars, chunks of hurtling rock, and living creatures? And, abandoning biological explanations, could an illness, minor or major, be caused by those residential organisms exploiting their surroundings, much the same way be abuse ours?"
Max paused, inhaled deeply, and continued.
"You may think that their are greater mysteries linked to the Bermuda Triangle, or the Great Pyramids of Giza, which is perhaps true. Because, for a mystery to start, there must be an object with that essence of enigma! Since our knowledge of the Universe is quite small, so are the number of questions. This simultaneously adds to our feeling of unknown.
Yet, there are so many intriguing phenomena in our own solar system- raining diamonds on Uranus and Neptune, the presence of an atmosphere on Saturn's moon- Titan, the Oort cloud- a hypothetical region of space.
I won't even dwell further from the limits of the Solar System. We all grew up learning that there are nine planets orbiting the Sun. Who's to say there aren't ten, or eleven, or twenty? It is entirely possible that another planet, its size exceeding Jupiter's, exists furtively beyond Neptune, with its complete mass shrouded by fog that bleeds into the background.
Honestly, the possibilities are endless. And I..."
Max halted suddenly, a lump in her throat. She felt rising anxiety. What if her suppositions were scoffed at?
"And come hell or high water, I intend to be a part of the group of people who unravel these mysteries.."

Max's abrupt departure took everyone by surprise. Jessie, her friend, looked at her. Her face was red and perspiring, her fingers moved impulsively. She seemed mildly abashed at having ignored the last part of her speech. But a hesitant, proud smile was etched across her face.
She clearly spoke from her heart.

Departure of the Summer Heat

Published in 'New Plains Review'.

I hear the crunch of shriveled leaves
disintegrating beneath my feet
I watch the remnants blow with the breeze
as I plod to the morning, jungle heat

I grimace at the crow's menacing calls
as its blown off course by a summer squall
My legs entangle in the irksome vines,
a massive web, clumsily intertwined

The streams reflect a dismal, leaden brown
a surging, rushing cascade as its source,
the dreary shades mirror that of the ground-
the soil- rich, yielding, or sand- dry and course

Trickles of sweat pour down my face
my heart pounds wildly at an aching pace
My ears prick nervously at the most innocent noise,
I whirl instinctively, my body poised

The warm shades of exotic vegetation and creatures
offer no consolation to my itching eyes-
miniature blue-eyed insects with inconceivable features,
with a striking, tropical, imposing guise

I feel the lapping ripples of a gleaming pond,
as vivid schools of fish tickle my knee;
they thrive underneath the abandoned fronds
of ferns, and the lime green creepers stemming from the tree

And as the softer tones of the strident sun
are veiled as the latter sets over the horizon,
unobtrusive critters return to their knolls
while joy and freedom has been triggered in my soul

Some say people feel vulnerable at night,
as they are unfortunately denied the sense of sight
Yet, it simultaneously means the withdrawal of heat
a one-that-cannot-be-compared, stimulating treat

I hear the crunch of fresh, crisp leaves
harmonizing beneath my feet
I gape as the remnants swirls patterns with the breeze
as I gallivant to the night time, frosty heat

I welcome the birds' mellifluous calls
as they swerve motifs by the sudden squalls
My legs are offered warmth by the obliging vines,
a convoluted web, flawlessly intertwined

The twinkling streams reflect a golden brown,
a buoyant, effervescent fall as its source,
the vibrant hues indicate that of the ground-
the secure domain of animals- safe and sound

I appreciate the shadowy views, the sublime scenes
of the foliage, that have turned ebony from green
Though humans are declined the perception of sight,
in summer, the most wonderful experiences are lived at night

So There It Stood

There it stood, colossal, towering high
coming in contact with the realm of the sky
surpassing the tallest of mountains by birth,
all was diminished by its mere presence, everything on Earth
It rested upon an infinite sheet of glistening ice,
as sun rays glinted off its walls- a bane to the eyes
accustomed to the dark, kindred shades of greenery-
the verdant views, the gorgeous scenery
On its polished pillars were emblazoned intricate designs
of spirals, mosaic and patterned lines
A scintilla of sunlight poured in through the ceiling clear
emitting a watery light, anything but austere
It possessed the vitreous texture of crying clouds,
by the coloration of stained periwinkle, its structure was shroud
The tower benignly acted as the bright, north star,
glad to guide people stranded in places bizarre,
to those who aimlessly and helplessly roam,
will put them on the right track, escort them back home
As ice, it had that mystic, lambent glow,
while wreaths of mist arising from its depths swayed to and fro
But later augmented the shivery atmosphere,
thus making it no longer approachable, all throughout the year
So it faded from memories, its deserted location unknown,
resting singly, standing alone
It shortly resembled a forsaken, natural spire,
as its spirit of mystery mounted higher and higher
It's aura of charm unfalteringly rose-
it was distinguished from the world, time seemed to have froze
Its beauty remained untouched by human hands
which only highlighted its facet of being glorious and grand
It was positioned imperiously, indifferent to the seclusion,
that it was better off standing isolated, was its delusion
So there it stood

Night Was Falling...

When the particles falling from meteor showers are smaller than grains of sand, they burn up in the atmosphere. However, those larger are capable of penetrating the blanket of air surrounding our Earth, hit the ground with a tremendous impact, and invariably become meteorites. When they fall continuously, the chunks of rock are a bane to those unfortunate enough to be at the wrong place, at the wrong time. Yet, they do create beautiful sights...

It was terrifying. There I was, wandering soberly across a trimmed field I had visited since childhood, with my conscience fixated upon solemn thought. I would intermittently step into a hidden gully, and tiredly shake off the clinging water. Night was falling, yet I had no desire to leave. In the distance, I could spot a small inn, laced with flashing lights. The voices and laughs of content people drifted to my ears. I could hear the dim clinking of glasses, and the faint trail of music. I looked stonily ahead.
And then... one second all I could see was dark, prickly grass... and the next second- it was alight. A few moments later, an explosive sound, diminished, worked its way to my mind. The stalk of grass was momentarily ignited- an orange blaze- and later lost its color, and dropped into a bow. A minute later, several other grass blades met with the same fate. It took me about ten seconds to realize what I was in the middle of. Ten seconds later, my only instinct was to flee. With a gasp of terror, my dawdle broke into a run. I sprinted in no particular direction, dodging any indication of flames. Chunks of rock, the size of large pebbles, hurtled towards the ground. One grazed my elbow, the other narrowly missed my foot. But I was alive. I felt more alive than I had in weeks. I swiftly evaded the meteors, while I unwaveringly trusted my intuition. There were consecutive explosions, each possessing the power of dynamite. At long last, their frequency began to cease. Overcome with fatigue, I collapsed heavily into a massive puddle. I had landed on the outskirts of the field, and was wincing with pain. I got up carefully, cradling my elbow, and surveyed the damage. Parts of the field illuminated the night, and other parts, a mixture of gray and gold, were emitting smoke. An acrid scent hung in the air. The sky and atmosphere had reverted back to their normal state. I could hear screams of delight coming from the inn. Dazed, and overwhelmed with shock, I sat and stared at the burnt remnants of the meadow, a place I would run to even from the tender stages of my life.

It was beautiful. I had gone to the countryside to visit my young niece of seven. She lived in a desolate village- charming, bursting with wildlife, but lonely. The celestial bodies were her companions during the night, as I came to know. After a few hours in her company, she kindled in me an interest in constellations and nebulae. Later, brimming with enthusiasm, she led me to all her cherished places- a clear, gurgling spring, a tree entirely composed of bright, magenta flowers... Our day ended with an exhausting trek up an endless mountain, encumbered with thorns and snakes. Panting, we found respite in a little, merry inn, and ordered our respective beverages. Night was falling, yet I had no desire to leave. My eyes wandered about the fields and valleys, and finally rested upon a shining, golden patch on the grass, that lit up all in its vicinity. Though it was quite a distance from my inquisitive eyes, it was unmistakably fire. But I shrugged off the observation, indifferent, and continued with my drink. A second later, I had spilled half of it over the tablecloth, and so had half the others around me. An explosive sound, reduced exponentially, had been produced several hundred yards to my right. Later, as though resembling immobile, golden critters, tiny tracts of land irradiated a fiery ambience. I looked up, bewildered. Ten seconds later, I realized what I was in the middle of. Ten seconds later, I could only gape soundlessly at the phenomenon of raining fire. Like ignited jewels continually careening towards the Earth. Spellbound, my eyes turned glassy. My feet were rooted in place, while my heart was pounding wildly. Fire was surging from the inky sky, and landing on the vegetation with the strength of a small detonation.
One fell precariously close to my location, and I cringed discernibly. The fire was deep purple at the center, and lightened and mixed with orange as it proceeded outwards. Minutes later, the sparks died down, revealing a crumbling, smoldering mass of rock. My niece uttered a scream of pleasure, which echoed across the hills. The people surrounding me were applauding, stunned.
Fire replaced water as pouring rain, water extinguished fire. It was an immaculate succession of the transfer of power of the main elements. A smile of awe etched across my face, I too, broke into applause.

It was puzzling. Two ambivalent descriptions of the same occurrence. One, with the tenor of fear, and the other with that of respect. Two people, from two different walks of life, at different but proximal places, at the same time, viewing an event from two varying directions. I could detect similarities from their illustrations. The plight of one was the pleasure of another. One experience was devastation, and the second was unconcealed admiration. Perspective was instrumental in shaping and recounting events of historical or any significance.
Jaded, I slumped back on the warm, dew-tipped grass and switched off the lamp. Night was falling, yet I had no desire to leave. So I lay down, and gazed at the stars.

Circles of Imagination

Hot gusts whistle past in menacing tunes,
unsettling the flawlessly arranged golden dunes
Vivid grains of sand invade the air,
providing the atmosphere with a glinting flare
Listless, I wearily, wearily tread
as the Sun beats down upon my head
In the distance, I can catch an uncanny sight,
perhaps that can rescue me from my plight,
water- cool, consoling, delicious
that can save my soul from the weather so vicious
I extend my arm- it's just a stone's throw away,
yet it decides to keep itself at bay
from my itching throat, parched mouth,
as it annoyingly continues to elongate its route
And in a trice, out of nowhere, I am enveloped my bliss,
a fact my spirits do not let go amiss
My state of mind is imbued by unappeasable delight,
all my fatigue has evaporated, and had soared to great heights
Invigorating drops cascading from the sky- my solace,
they guarantee me happiness, a very reassuring promise
I close my burning eyes, in the euphoria I relish
by the rain, my feelings have been embellished
But when I open my eyes, it isn't glaring sand I see,
my sight had been dominated by a thicket of trees,
that climb their way towards the sky,
the oncoming result of when the heavens cry
Coarse sand was transformed into rich, moist mud,
the green was dotted my several blooming buds
Then arrived the fearful, intense draught,
powerful winds and gale, it had brought
In the comfort of greenery, it did not let me linger,
for the next moment, I noticed a conspicuous lack of fingers
I had grown wings, I was flying high,
past the atmosphere, past the sky
past the soft sunlight pouring down
until I lost sight of the blossoms on the ground
I was being propelled vertically by instinctive wings
basking in the thrill unreachable heights can bring
I could sense a remarkable alteration in the hues
of the sky- dark black from sapphire blue
I continued for days, months and years
till I could tell my destination was drawing near
Sure enough, my pace of movement began to slow
as my curiosity, proportional, began to grow
When I finally halt, I look straight down
to my astonishment, I am levitating over a glimmering ground
Silver spirals arising from its core
where it glistens and sharpens all the more
like glitter shaken perfectly over a dark piece of silk,
emanating a divine aura, its shade resembling milk
The light was scattered expertly, in little immaculate sprinkles,
the mass as a whole was sparkling, in little ceaseless twinkles
And then, before my dazed, searching eyes
it rapidly began to shrink in size
In a drop of water, it could be contained,
water that fell to the Earth as rain
for it was accompanied by dazzling bright
structures, by with the night could  be set alight
spreading out endlessly, like a limitless stretch of sand,
was it then could I ultimately understand
I was looking down upon, with my very eyes,
the structures we gaze up at, that govern the night skies
I was looking down upon the entire universe-
enchanting, beguiling, meticulously interspersed
I was momentarily transfixed, until I felt the heat
starting at my head, trickling down to my feet
overpowering my senses; I could perceive the arid weather
with its patches of thirsty, purple heather
the dry sand was staring up at my face,
the cool breeze had reduced to a non-existent pace
 hot gusts whistle past in menacing tunes,
unsettling the flawlessly arranged golden dunes...

Green- Eyed Beauty

They were captivating, those shimmering, emerald eyes. They danced in the beams of soft moonshine, throwing hints of light. They reminded me of the color of... freshly mown grass, of the springtime creepers, my garden after it rained. It was tinged with specks of aqua, and freckled with wonder. They were stormy, with waves of suspicion rolling off them, hitting me with tremendous force, until they softened- forming ripples. I couldn't unravel the enigma that lay behind those eyes, whose energy just accentuated its beauty. As it stemmed inwards, the shade deepened, only to combine to form an ominous, black pupil. Every time it blinked, it awoke me from my stupor- of conspicuous awe.
Those eyes... they were unimaginable, beyond belief. They dominated their surroundings, as though they were the cynosure of everyone's stare. Pangs of envy pecked at me. For the first time, I could look at one straight in the eye, without blinking or blushing.
I was gazing into the morbid eyes of a spectral bird, the most unearthly in existence. It was only the eyes that distinguished it from a cloud of dust. It was perched haughtily on the railing of the balcony, its unfathomable eyes flashing, glaring.
In sheer desperation, I extended a quivering arm, reaching out, only to arouse the bird's wariness. It took off, its wings fluttering, taking those emeralds with it, and vanished.

Tangerine and Baby Blue

Published in the literary journal 'Apeiron Review'

It was a vast expanse of solemn trees,

immaculately arranged, splattered with shades

of gorgeous hues- ocher, teal and baby blue,

but the ambience was dry, arid, parched,

the rustle of leaves was only to be heard

as travelers paved their path through the woods

lighting a fire, more than an incandescent spark

fighting its way to be distinguished in the dark

A while later, torrential ashes swirled,

blending against the setting of black,

as particles of fire, glittering, surreal,

plummeted towards the Earth, illuminating all it touched

The world was enveloped by that acrid scent,

the world was set alight by tangerine sparkles,

the inky sky shielded by billowing gray smoke,

which spread out like a billowing charcoal cloak

The trees, unable to withstand the boiling wrath

that emanated from its merciless, whipping flames,

exposed to the lustrous, glowing light

and the scorching heat that warmed the night

Its rage fortified, with its sweltering blaze,

and the crimson flares that ruthlessly beat down

The surroundings were vague, hazy, pervaded with loss

of the vast expanse of majestic trees,

immaculately arranged, splattered with shades

of gorgeous hues- ocher, teal and baby blue

Once the fire ceased, which took many days

the green was gone, to be replaced by glistening embers

that shone faintly, as though craving the warmth

of the whirling fumes and quivering flames

Yet, for an observant, passive onlooker,

the sight would have been dazzling, hypnotic,

of the radiant fire that consumed the woods

 radiating transitory beauty and transient warmth

only to be extinguished by water or time,

can we appreciate the effects it has,

on modest hues of ocher, teal and baby blue