wendy bird

Via DeviantArt

Moonlight reflected in their tired eyes... pools of past hurts
Her soul... it was closest to the sky.
He whispers to the girl. She is nervous, having second thoughts. 
She is dizzy on top of the roof. 
They kiss quickly, and she says "Yes..."

She has a broken, pale ghost at the bottom of the house. 

The soul does not believe in death, or pain, or falling -- in the end, 
it is the only one who escaped, barely scathed, except for something inside. 

Starting now, no more ghosts, only a heart, beating. 

Woke up today, an afterglow later, it feels nice just to say it...
This is all just a dream really
Lots of smiles dancing around
Stay a little...

Copyright © Neerja Yadav

history of a night


At 5’O clock chilly-freshness, at the colorless hour…
At the edge of the crumpled satin sheets, 
those crumpled dreams…

The fantastic hobnobbing with familiar…

Like a meteor shower, profound, while being dreamed of…
Like a cloud envelope…

Its hazy, its ambrosial…
Just about out of reach…

By the time, the sky turns orange from vermillion…
Laundry and larder takes over…

The face in the mist… just about smiles
Tugging your heart strings...

Bidding adieu!

Copyright © Neerja Yadav

madison county - my own version

Kneading the crumpled edges of the dream-world, the conscience floats back… to the birdcall, the morning music…the afterglow of a night unconsummated…slow pirouetting of desire...

At 35, I have a closet full of moments – momentous and mundane, making a tapestry of my own past...choices made, turns taken, waters uncharted … the on-going weave of 'what ifs?

For am a product of collective conscious, of generations of mankind, a rou├ęs at heart and mind too… in love with what could have been, what’s yet to come… living for the perpetual Coming Soon!

With, multi-tasking now a done thing; especially with world at fingertips. No single-minded passion of Romeo or purpose of Einstein. Adventure is always out there!

The coffee date demands a twitter or an fB update, every single step the growing child takes is on camera! DSLRs no less! We are all stars now… not heroes… stars…of our own narratives.

Habits are extremely intriguing… the comfort of status quo… the fractured life begins to feel like full life.  I have become the audience of the narrative…no more in it…sifting, sorting… it seems living no more

I need to relearn to do one thing at a time. Every step needs to be intentional. Focused.  

For, scattered attention mutates into tattered existence.

Copyright © Neerja Yadav

Love Ache

He is growing up so fast, he dances to his own tune, and he talks in his own language. Stubborn and aggressive, spitfire and very next minute, he is all sweet butterfly kisses and “love yous”…fun and grumpy. Perpetual whining interspersed with hours of tinkling laughter.

He just started his new day-care, a very quiet-in-the-crowd child, picks his corner, picks his favourites and observes…everything and everybody; that’s what I get from his caretakers.

Every day the morning ritual also includes the “Baby doesn’t want to go out”; still a third person reference, still the reluctance of leaving the nest… still the separation anxiety.

Being a single parent to this glorious child is a lesson in itself. Like a Shaolin Monk he sets up tests for me to figure myself out.

Like a Storyteller with a combination of practicality and pure magic that coexists in his mind right now is a delight! Easily delighted, curious, sensitive, and more or less self-sufficient. Always up for mischief, an adventure or a run or two.

Seeing him pull out naughty tricks, thought of all by himself; letting him imitate me, while I get him ready him for bed… letting him be a big boy he is becoming… always tugs at my heartstrings… with a wide grin and tears at the corners of my eyes… a perpetual pleasure ache!

Copyright © Neerja Yadav