Picture it & Write



“Have you brought it?” asked Sam

“Yes.” said Dilip, taking out a pack

Sam snatched it from him and opened it. It contained soft brown powder. He knew it would taste great.

Dilip and Sam, in their early teens, always met in the lighthouse, far from their village. They were already privy to robbery and smoking. The powder was a new attraction.

They heard a cough behind them. An old man huddled in a corner.

“What is that heavenly fragrance?” he asked in a shaky voice, coughing.

“This is nothing for you, grandpa.” said Sam, hiding the powder.

“Whom did you call, ‘grandpa?’”, asked the man, rising up. “Are you blind? I am just 29.” He fell down, shaking weakly and coughing again. His hands were shrunk and bruised.

The two boys stared at him.

“Give it to me. I have been using these for the past 15 years.”

The boys looked at each other and slowly edged away. The powder lay alone behind them. They would never touch it again.

This was written for Ermilia’s Picture it & Write.


You moved away from me

as we differed in race, religion and nationality

You branded me a bigot

and I considered you dishonest

Little did I hear of your fairness

and you did not know my open-mindedness


Words brought us together

Internet bonded us

We realized that our thoughts were the same

Our ideas were similar

far more than the people

who belonged to our race, religion and nationality

Tale of a Deer

I escaped the terrifying forest

Leaving behind ferocious predators

And loving mates

To come to this lush green city

Full of life and vegetation


And what do I behold?

But predators in sophisticated attire

Lusting my skin

And desiring my meat

And I see the meat of fellow animals

Hanging in butcher shops

So out of shape

That I am unable to identify them

I have a tiny heart that beats, too

And I decide to go back to the forest

Live with my friends

And confront my predictable enemies

Drugs – A Fatal Threat

I lay in stupor

Losing myself in powder

To forget my torment

And forgo my present


On the route to trance

I gave up my love

My talents took a final bow

Gone was my penchant for painting

And desire for technology

Sad were the loved ones

Looking at my degraded soul

Yearning for my past glory


How can I go back?

I have gone too deep

Into another world

Where needle is my soul

And powder is my life