Twenty Words Tuesday: Week 26 Post (Prompt: Spring)

Thank you, Bulbul’s Bubble, for this week’s writing prompt. I am honored on my inclusion into your mention-worthy list.

So, here’s my entry for #TwentyWordsTuesday, a 20-words-story-prompt. which for this week is Spring.


Spring

“Let’s give up the bitterness and begin this year afresh,” he’d demanded. “We’ve never looked back ever since,” she reflected.


I hope you all like my humble attempt.

The Confessions of Her Pillow

I’m jealous of my own existence. Whatever I have today, it’s because of her; it’s for her. Nothing belongs to me, yet I’m proud of what I have. To this day, and happily counting, I’m her sole counselor. I’ve consoled her on countless occasions. I’ve seen, shared every single dream she’s ever had. I’ve been inspiring her, supporting her in her every endeavor. I’ve told, “It’s as important to stop and rest as it is to stand up to a cause.” I’ve been the only support of hers for years, and she’s relied on me equally. She knows the importance of my existence. Even if she doesn’t value my presence, or so I think, she registers and acknowledges my absence. Day in and day out, she needs me. She wants me. We’ve numerous memories together. She cuddles me, caresses me, irritates me, embraces me. More so, she dreams with me, imagines with me, rests and wakes up with me, attests me, uses and at times abuses me. She loves me, hates me, but the best part is, she shares her tears with me. I’m her companion when she detests everyone else. I’ve lived through those sleepless nights when she has reached me with her tears. When she tears me down, it just tears me down. Her comfort, her confidence, and her victory, what else do I want? After all, I’m her pillow. And her story is my story. I think I’m jealous of my existence. Very jealous.

Twenty Words Tuesday: Week 25 Post (Prompt: Love)

Thank you, Bulbul’s Bubble, for this week’s writing prompt.

So, here’s my entry for #TwentyWordsTuesday, a 20-words-story-prompt. And, here’s my first attempt at writing a 20-words story based on this week’s prompt, which is Love.


Love

Passersby ignored him; a tradition for them for last two decades. “Here you’d proposed. Here I’m without you.” he sighed.


I hope you like my humble attempt.

Perfection: Seeking and Sought

It is a beloved
A want to be
With the Wanting.

It is a craving
A wish to be granted
To be Satiating.

It is a pursuit
A journey to the known
That’s yet unknown.

It is a truth
Worth unwrapping
That deserves unveiling.

It is a decision
Behest to jugement
Sought. Or is it Seeking?

It is a destination
A place to be
Only for perching.

It is, notwithstanding
A search to be
Ever growing. Never ending.

©Suyog Ketkar

‘Deccan Reveries: Pune Poets Anthology’ Releases Today

Hi there!

I’m glad to announce the release of Deccan Reveries: Pune Poets Anthology. Of all invaluable contributions from many established, known authors, writers, and poets, is also my humble contribution of two poems.

I’d be honored if you could please check out the book and buy it using this affiliate link

Deccan Reveries: Pune Poets Anthology

Also, I’d look forward to listening to or reading your opinion on ‘Wait Until Dawn, O’ Muse‘ and ‘The Silent Wail,’ which have been cherry-picked by the team of the esteemed editors.

I’d like to dedicate this post to Juhi Gupte, who is both a dear friend and the editor of the book. And a special mention to all those who have turned this tiny collective effort into an anthology, the publisher and, you, dear readers.

Happy reading. 🙂

Trees in the Winter

Trees we’re, witnessing
Yet another Solstice—
We’ve seen—
Yet another year

For you, we might be
Useless, worn out.
Devoid of what we can
No longer bear.

Call us what you might
Fixture. Fossil. Forget not
But that we’re the ones
Who had you reared.

Like old parents, we’re—
That one thing is clear.
As clear as the love we showered
Unconditionally until last year.

But here’s the justice 
Now you’ve got to hear
Soon upon the next Solstice,
Fruits we shall bear.

Celebrate beauty, pain of nature.
Listen to us.
Life is a celebration. A soiree.
Live today. Be here.

©Suyog Ketkar

Micropoetry: He Shone Brighter

He was broken. Wrought.
Yet he be adamantly sought.
More he cracked,
The more he got brighter.
Shone, ever, without a spot.

@suyogketkar

#Tanka
#micropoetry
#inspiration


Tanka (pronounced TAH’N-KAH) is an older form of Japanese micropoetry that consists of five lines of poetry with syllables in the formation of 5-7-5-7-7.

Being Humble

Strike here. Gone there.
The Kafkaesque nature of
The momentary thought
Is worthy of being rare.

Doing. Redoing.
Writing. Wiping. Committing.
How else will you otherwise
Wayfind that Something?

Patience, my friend,
Is a costly affair.
If it strikes, it’s fair.
If it doesn’t, it still isn’t unfair.

Failure or pressure.
Spark or seizure.
Will you or won’t you
Then find the pleasure?

Being Wrong is fine.
Accepting Mistakes: even better.
Assuming ‘Another Fresh Start’
Is, quite humbly, the way to the Divine.

©Suyog Ketkar

Life, Sort of, Makes Sense!

It must be logic,
For we hide carefully our aces.

It must be magic,
For even a thought can take us places.

It must be tragic,
For else why would people switch their stances?

It must be a mirror,
For a few change faces.

It must be an accomplishment,
For some deal with it in paces.

It must be a sieve,
For that’s how we treat our experiences.

It must be a choice,
For that’s why we tend to preferences.

It must be valuable,
For the not-wanting-to-die embraces.

It must be a puzzle,
For that’s how we mend our ways.

It must be a timestamp,
For otherwise why’d we spend those days?

Amidst the puny fights of ignorance,
Amongst the countless episodes of submissions,

And after all that’s there,
Life, sort of, makes sense.

©Suyog Ketkar

Keep Writing

The inspiration for this poem comes from my undying love for writing. Despite how people dislike and despise my habit of looking at everything through the lens of writing—or hate what I do—I continue to write. Someone asked a simple question some time back. Both the question and the answer to it had a profound impact on me, for it is when I addressed the question, I realized how much I love writing. The question was, Will you continue to write even if you never rewarded for it? And I replied in a ‘Yes.’

I stand by the mirror,
Yet again; seeing a myriad
Expressions on the blank face;
Of documents that I left behind.

I stare void, yet again.
Lost. Overwrought.
I wish I could go back.
Rewind.

I argue, yet again.
Taking an umbrage
Dare you disrespect my love
Even in your mind.

I stand stupefied,
Yet again; knowing that
Cluelessness is temporary
That I must face the grind.

For I soon will cherish
The moment of realization.
The encounter with words!
It will be rapturous!

For yet again I plunge,
Swim to explore and
From deep within, bring ashore
Thoughts. What a find!

©Suyog Ketkar