Saturday, September 24, 2011

The Bugs Of June

So the bugs of June fly into the night seeking a halogen light.
They flock around it, all of them, fluttering their tiny wings, as if drawn by some gypsy magic.
They collide with each other and fall like some bizarre dead flowers, but they fly up again, time and again without fail, with no regard to their little lives.

They aren’t scared of being found.

They dope on that light amidst the silent night, as if they are scared of the darkness.
They are perhaps scared of getting lost.

I wonder how they fared millions of years ago when there was no halogen light through the long nights, when there was no fire, no electricity.

Did they seek for the moon in those scary dark nights?
Just like we do often? 

Thursday, September 8, 2011

About a New Life (Lie)

Rain drenched streets, flightless moths, tall trees,
Unfamiliar faces
Autumn’s familiar smell
Sleepless nights and hot cups of tea.

And time goes by.
The memory lingers on for a while
Of brick lanes and crowded streets
And then it’s all the same..

Getting used to it.

Getting used to it.

Dreaming on, wondering is this it?
Is this the end?

Growing up?
Running for glory?

Money and fame
Sugarcoated smartness.

And time goes by.
Getting used to it.

Your memory lingers on for a while, and then it’s all the same..

Getting used to it.
Getting used to it.