Wasted and Found…

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Wasted days and wasted nights,

Unsaid words and aimless fights,

A gaze into the hollow,

The breaths getting shallow,

The mind caught in the swirls,

Thoughts taking unwanted curls,

 

A distant ocean stirs,

The vision kind of blurs,

As the time progresses,

As the moment possesses,

The centrifuge will slow down,

Unfit thoughts will drown

 

The calm will spread again,

Sane will be the brain,

The dialogues will soon begin,

Faces will soon sport the grin,

Fights converted to banter,

The bond will start to canter.

 

— @pbkulkarni

 

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Written for daily prompt – Wasted Days and Wasted Nights.

What could he do???

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Thud came the sound. He was lying in pool of blood.

There were whispers. The expressions said it all.

After his wife died leaving behind their 9 year old son, he nurtured him, educated him only to be asked to move in an old age home.
They said he died because they wouldn’t accept him.

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Written for week-long prompt of Marathon Bloggers – “They said he died because they wouldn’t accept him”

What could he do???

Standard

Thud came the sound. He was lying in pool of blood.

There were whispers. The expressions said it all.

After his wife died leaving behind their 9 year old son, he nurtured him, educated him only to be asked to move in an old age home.
They said he died because they wouldn’t accept him.

———————————————————

Written for week-long prompt of Marathon Bloggers – “They said he died because they wouldn’t accept him”

Lagori – The Game #OctPoWriMo Day 17

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Written for: “OctPoWriMo” prompt for day 17

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Lagori

Image Courtesy: Google

Arrange those seven flat rocks,

One upon the other,

All you guys, spread around,

Let there be one group to aim,

One of them throw the ball,

At the arranged rocks,

Rocks will be displaced, in disarray

* * *

You all should now come running,

Try to rearrange the blocks,

Before they collect the ball and,

Aim at you, instead of the rocks,

If you all manage to rearrange,

Without coming in line of their throw,

You WIN!!!

* * *

— @pbkulkarni

What Is Love??? #OctPoWriMo Day 08

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Written for: “OctPoWriMo” prompt for day 08

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Love is like a quill,

That writes the hymns,

A fictional fantasy pill,

That works on its own whims

* * *

Love is like that scar,

Doesn’t hurt but reminds,

Like that distant star,

So far but it still blinds

* * *

Love is like those chats,

Bringing smile on your face,

Cute yet like the brats,

Away but still in embrace

* * *

Love is like that blind spot,

At the corner of a road,

You feel like taking a shot,

Yet are afraid of red code

—–

— @pbkulkarni

Where Did The Weekend Go??? #OctPoWriMo Day 7

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Written for: “OctPoWriMo” prompt for Day 7

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So many things to do and so little time,

Two full days, but they breeze past,

Like it was never there,

And their this ephemeral nature,

Gives such a bad feeling and name to Monday

* * *

You feel like painting, you wait for weekend,

You feel like playing guitar,

Play with its strings and soothe them down,

You feel artistic and want to cuddle with,

Those Origami tessellations,

And those paper quilling creations,

You feel like drinking the words,

From books you’ve bought but not read yet,

And yet again you wait for the weekend

* * *

The desires pile up and impatience bottles up,

On a Friday, it’s so near yet so far,

Finally the weekend arrives but,

The urge to sleep a ‘bit’ more arises,

The household chores suddenly peek from nowhere,

The hot cup of coffee is gulped in haste,

It’s a race against clock, who will win?

The half day gone, quarter weekend gone,

And the thirst is not quenched yet,

Impatience is replaced by lethargy,

Planned things never happen, you think,

Half of them will be carried forward,

Next time I will not plan anything,

Let things take their own course,

But yet again on the next day, Monday,

You start planning for the coming weekend,

You can’t help it, thinking at least this time,

This time the plan will fructify.

— @pbkulkarni

Butterflies… #OctPoWriMo Day 6

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Written for: “OctPoWriMo” prompt

It’s my date,

With a beautiful girl,

I try to forecast my fate,

My thoughts whirl,

Butterflies

* * *

It’s my interview,

My palms feel the sweat,

The job, the anxiety, all new,

Stomach feels upset,

Butterflies

* * *

I am at work,

I call mom, three times,

She doesn’t answer, feel of murk,

She picks and I hear chimes,

Butterflies

* * *

I plan to buy,

A car already in my mind,

Someone I tell lets out a sigh,

Was the decision blind?

Butterflies

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— @pbkulkarni