a failed blockbuster

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Metamorphosis
It pictures the truth that the very people for whom you sacrifice everything will be the ones who'll sacrifice you when you're not useful, will leave you when you need them the most. The heart aches in witnessing that in those toughest times too you think about their well being.

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How to love unconditionally?

Honour their views even if they disrespect yours
Help them hone their skills without expecting help
However rude might they be never abandon them, like a mother does
Heal them. Tell them they are the best even when they don't consider themselves
Hide their flaws from the world even if they glorify yours

Hysterical, are you? Now don't read another poem on 'how to love unconditionally.'

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It is here for an everlasting change that'll change the dynamics of every aspect of life and the way it's envisioned. With all its seven colours of rainbow driven from seven seas July is all set to be transcendental and epic

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Bringing seven notes
in musical rain
July became one of the
sacred seven sages

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Your Quote prompts give direction to the maze of thoughts and emotions in my mind, an impetus to the ever writing desire which many a times acquires a lackadaisical attitude, an insight about the thoughts pervading in my mind requiring an outburst and imparts brainstorming for its conception in the closest vocabulary.
When reading books becomes time consuming its daily writing gyans and the writings of fellow writers satiate the reading craving and teaches a thing or two.
Absence of Your Quote from my phone would be the absence of much inspiration and sanity.

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We bruised our knees sliding on the slippery marble floor of the verandah under incessant dripping. Singing songs , nursery rhymes sometimes even advertisements, we didn't realise how minutes turned into hours. Playing badminton under soft drizzling dunno how we evaded cold cough or fever and also our mom's constant beckoning to get inside. Being born in a Sikh family savouring 'poode', a jaggery, flour and fennel seeds preparation, was a must during monsoons. We ate those in quite large numbers. As we grew, helping our mom prepare 'poode' and 'pakode' became a ritual.
Sundays were special because unlike today having Maggie as a midnight snack, my mom cooked vegetable maggie for breakfast with pinwheel sandwiches. Those were the times when picnics in the garden of Taj Mahal and Red Fort weren't banned and families flocked with home cooked food and outdoor games in their premises. There weren't any phones to peek into the whole world instead long chat sessions with parents and siblings, playing 'do-sari' with cards and ludo under lantern-courtesy frequent power cuts, was the norm and gracefully did we enjoy all this.
A rainy day school holiday was a cherished Sunday.

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Underprivileged
to ask the owner
for a juicy summer bite
Everyday the petite lad
watched,
like we watch stars,
the mango laden tree
in anticipation
Too short to reach
too scared to commit the crime
God is kind
He walked by and
a mango fell while no one watched

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JUNE GHAZAL

Half past half future perspires in June
A jubilant yearly end aspires in June

Innocence walked away with the wild
In the wilderness it transpires in June

Much awaited warmth of love drouses
Wait dissolves its desire in June

Piece by piece the heart moulded
Its old version expires in June

His world is, the existence of his Mom
Adulation in a dog I wanna hire in June

Heart turned into heath witnessing world's misery
Let all the unwarranted burden retire in June

Are rain showers harbinger of joyful days, Gur?
Keep alight in your belly the fire in June.

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Stupidity is not to ask questions but
to laugh at the questions asked

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