Few words...

This poem is based as a descriptive account of the oil painting 'Gypsies' (1893) by the famous 18th Century Indian Painter - Raja Ravi Varma. My first poem of this kind, here it goes... By the temple, under the glistening sun, sat a family of wanderers, wondering... their thoughts incoherrent with those of the sleeping son The mother seemed indulgent, playing her old Veena, while her son was lost in dreams upon her lap Gypsies - by Raja Ravi Varma and lost seemed her daughter Reena. Reena was neither listening to the rhythm, nor was she at peace like her sleeping brother, 'When will this wandering end?' -was the question in her mind, a question she had oft asked her mother Detached from his mother's Veena, was Mahesh who just wanted some food, the heat of the sun rising unconditionally, and no water in the empty pots, certainly did him no good. Albeit in different mindsets, they all seemed to be at peace, grat...

The white burning candle, Standing in the dark.. on its own, trying to illuminate everything around, albeit the darkness has persistently grown. It is aware that it is alone, while the darkness around it is vast It is devoted to being lit, even as its existence melts fast But is it really a candle? Or is it the flame of hope? That tries to hang on in times of despair, and tries to cling on to that last bit of rope. It keeps burning still, battling the known and the unknown, all hidden in the darkness around. It shrinks in size, with its head held high, still believing that it is glory abound.