Wind’s fault

Imagine me on one side of the division by a steel wire(originally meant for hanging clothes to dry, of course no net for home players) hanging a little crooked between the two walls and my sister on the other side of it. I am waving my racket, playing shots at the empty air and she is looking at me with a zealous fire in her eyes. She serves.

The shuttle cock lifts high and high and flies over the top of me. I thrust my hand upward to make my racket reach and hit it back but I miss because of the loftiness. It befalls and I bow down to pick it up. She shouts, “1-0”.

“But it was way too high.”

She doesn’t reply and I serve(we do not play by traditional rules. Anyone can serve anytime) while saying, “That is blatantly wrong.” And before my words reach her, the shuttle falls down… on my side. A fault in my serve. “I was distracted. I was talking to you.”

She doesn’t reply. And I pick it up once again to serve. Thankfully, it goes right. After a good rally, I gain my first point. The match continues.

“3-1”

“4-3”

“5-5”

Then, it happens. “10-6” “12-8” Shot after shot, she makes the winning points because I can’t match the height of her shots. I complain. Sometimes, she obliges by agreeing to giving no one any point but other times, I myself reward her with the increasing numbers because after all, my strokes are not good enough. And as she well puts it, “It is the wind’s fault. It is blowing in your direction and when I strike my racket and make a shot, the shuttle goes way too up than the height it is intended to reach while on your side.”

I know it to be quite true.

After I gain some momentum, the score reaches, 15-15.

“17-15”

“17-19”

“Game-19”

She plays the winning shot.

I say, “It was the wind’s fault. I could have won it.”

“Hmm. I won it from you for the first time.” She just nods but forgets to mention that it is the wind’s fault.

We play some more but eventually stop because of the fast blowing wind. See, it is actually the wind’s fault.

it is the wind’s fault

aiming at the height of it

shuttle cock befalls

~

shuttle cock befalls

eyes follow its passage down

palms freeze by wind’s fault

~

losing the high aim

I grunt and wipe my cold sweat

it is the wind’s fault

.

By the way, I won today. Yay! You did yay as well, right? End score: 21-17, 21-18. šŸ™‚ I will be linking it up with the Poetry Pantry today. I will be here and there… somewhere but I will eventually visit you to read the poetic confluence of your words.

A Hot Dare

My father dared me to eat raw green chilli and my mother encouraged me. I playfully took a bite. It wasn’t bad but then, my tongue began to tingle. Ignoring it, I consumed it whole to find my mouth burning by the hotness of the ironically named chill-i. Hiccups followed. I ran to the kitchen to find something sweet to balance the act while at the same time, I kept on gasping for more and more air to soothe the tongue that was painfully revolting against my senses at the time. I eventually found some jaggery and thrust it into my mouth, hurriedly melting it by the combined efforts of my saliva and teeth so that the sweetness could rush forth to procure the territory taken away by the sharp and hostile madness that had made me do what I did.

bit into the veins

ordeals caused by chilli

relieved by sweet gur*

~

playful dare

chilli eaten whole-

a hi-cc-cc-up

.

*Gud or gur:Ā Punjabi word for jaggery. It also reminds me of a Punjabi saying, “mar jawan gur kha ke”, which is said when some one comes to know of a grand event/happening, meaning to say that the person is willing to die by eating something as trivial as jaggery(he/she will die off eating jaggery). The jaggery may well be representative of happiness. I will confirm it from my mother.

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Escape: A Haibun

I was tired of the noise of the house- the TV set at high volume and the loud conversations. Hence, I decided to escape to the streets but it was a bad idea and yet, a fascinating one. As I trotted along the black tarmac, I was deaf with so many sound arrows shot, piercing my ears. I bled. It was a torture. The loudspeakers were advertising some silly newspaper, blurting out a headline of some corrupt doctors.

streets of the city

loudspeakers attacking ears

no respite from noise

The thing that was fascinating for me was the rapidly growing construction sites all around. A few years back, one wouldn’t have found so many sprawling business houses, with the hoards of bikes rarely missing each other on the busy street. There was the jam of peddlers and those behind the steering wheels. An accident could take place anytime.

packed with vehicles

busy streets bound by crowds

fascinating view

It was fascinating. It was a torture. It is an experience, I get every time I decide to walk on these streets. It is similar to the whirl-winding streets of my mind. A fascinating torture of my rapidly coursing thoughts and those ideas that are constructed to be broken, paving the way for the new ones, every single minute. I can escape those streets of the city but there is no way out of those, that exist in me.

thoughts and ideas

jamming the streets of the mind

there is no escape

* For Ligo Haibun Challenge.

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Photo source (2)

Eclipse

During the innocent childhood years, I was suggested not to eat or drink anything as long as the eclipse lasts. Along with my siblings, I would restrain myself as long as I could from breaking this notion. But I was always the one to restrain myself from believing in these superstitions and thus, I would go and eat something.

dark moleĀ on the sun

shy away from food or drink

I sneak an almond

While mother would have gone to school, my sister would put aside some wheat to be given to the underprivileged as alms, who would come after the eclipse, banging steel utensils asking for some or the other charitable thing.

banging heard

the sun hasĀ come free

donate wheat

.

* For Carpe Diem # 311. It is the first anniversary of Carpe Diem. Congratulations to Kristjaan and all the contributors.

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Labyrinthine Life: A Haibun

Sometimes you find yourself abandoned, lost- suffocating in the labyrinthine arms of life. There is no way you could get out of it, but one last option you have been thinking of lately; still unable to decide if you are capable of enacting upon it. I have thought a lot many times of how it would feel to be falling down a building… what all thoughts would go through the mind, what all emotions would shroud over those dead eyes.

falling down

unfathomable feelings

imagining

Or would it be just numbness; I don’t know of it but I can imagine as I try blindly, moving here and there so that something magical could happen to bring me to where the string is present of destiny… so that I could untangle it because it is definitely messed up right now.

string of destiny

solution for labyrinth

still unfound

And I fall down somewhere in the darkness. Now I sit looking at nothing, feeling nothing, but still with that wish for a magical transformation of what has been bestowed to me by my life.

labyrinth of life

wait for that magical spell

feeling of nothing

.

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