Discrete Diwali

A careful combination
of the ingredients
fell into hands
that crafted with
elegance,

Stuffed
.
.
.
Rolled
.
.
.
Sealed
.
.
And finished
with a topping.

Thousands of them
they made,
For making these
crackers,
they were paid.

Finally the moment
arrived,
with the allowance
in hand
they took to their heels
For this was to be a
day with three meals.

Crackers are made in a Tamil city called Sivakasi. A sad yet true fact is that this industry hosts the greatest number of child laborers in Tamilnadu who earn a meager amount by rolling the gunpowder into crackers and the only part on the year they are paid well is during Diwali.

Fairy in Disguise

On
Yet another
rainy night
I walked through
muddy streets
sans light

Thunder lord
sent his brigade
Then, you were
my sole comrade

And the wind blew
with all its might
Afraid,
I held you tight

You stopped the
rains from drenching
my torso
And stood
by my side wherso

For me,
you were the
fairy from Cinderella
But people say
you are just
an umbrella

Skilled yet killed

Standing by the
side of the road
I was awe struck
at the way you rode

Handling the throttle,
break and lights
with indomitable
elegance and might

Wondering at the
skills you stage
My routine has
seldom changed

But yoou pass me by
considering me a menace
Always with a
grin of ignorance

Look out!
.
.
.
Smash!
.
.
.
.
Thud!
.
.

Oh my dear!
Perhaps you should
have read me,
the sign board,
I was no menace
but was your hoard,
For this was what i bore

Drinking kills
Driving skills

Be it a bacardi blast
or a tequila shot
The sign holds still!

Dad's boot

One, tip toed
into the corridor
and lifted,
while the other
had inherited.

One glad with
the achievement
The other sobbing
over the pavement

One tumbling to walk
with the new loot
The other in
an inevitable mute
Both,
too young for
dad's boots

One tried out of
curiosity
The other
on account of
food scarcity!

Dedicated to all young foots inside their respective dads' boots, instead of their own.