… feelings & thoughts, scripted in fonts …

592. The Typewriter…

I’m having a mini Typewriter,

Which came to me..

From my first man, my father,

Which was handed over to him..

By my grandfather..!!


As a child,

I used to admire it a lot,

Never knew, one day,.

It’ll be, the..

User name of my blog..!!


To me, it’s very very precious,

Very very close to my heart,

As it’s the only thing,

Indirectly, I inherited..

From my grand dad..!!


Not to part with it,

So, preserving it..

Attend to it very carefully,

Without any idea..

what to do with it finally..!!


Time rolled..

My grand dad, away he passed,

More time fled,

My dad also breathed his last,

Leaving behind, their touch,

Their words, their Typewriter..!!


Now the machine sits quiet,

Observes me, its owner,

From the rack’s corner,

While it’s dusted, cleaned,

At regular intervals..!!


Its keys..

Keep on asking me silently,

“Why do you love us..

Why you still look after..

Why care for us so well..??”


How to reveal, not the machine..

I love my forefathers’ touch on it,

The only game, eternally I love,

With the letters, the alphabets..

And the cute little keys,

To voice out my words with..!!

………………………. βœπŸΌπŸ’•πŸ˜‰πŸ˜„


473. Our Weapon..

We, the silent ones,

You know,

We’ve our own secret weapons,

Which unknowingly scares people,

Ask me, what scares them..??

It’s our simple Pen !!



468. A Unique Wish..

Have never stayed in a hostel ever, nor in college as well,..

did my studies all through, as a day scholar, from home itself..!!

But used to listen, still now hear, lots of hostel experiences,..

from friends and acquaintances, about their life in their hostels..!!

How they enjoyed their daily life, away from family, along with friends,..

how they learnt, how to deal, alone in life, from hostel life..!!

Everytime I listen to them, I miss, I dream, of enjoying life, staying in a hostel,..

but as of now, there’s no scope left, other than an old age home, for my wish fulfillment..!!

So, acquiring the courage, one day, very earnestly, I pleaded my son,..

that, once I’m old, not to worry, but to drop me in a good old age home..!!

Neither with any bitter feelings, nor any grudges or complaints within, did I request,..

to let me, enjoy my life, my way, for the first time in life, guardian less..!!

Chatting, all of us, with bifocals, with various types of people, mostly with dentures,..

some with hearing aids, some with walking sticks or with pace makers..!!

Where, our problems, same, complaints, the same, sharing the same doctors,..

to feel young, free and active, whilst feeling each other’s pain, quite a bit better..!!

Staying within a family of young people around, may make one feel more sick and old,..

but staying among the same age group, may make one feel, quite a bit bold..!!

This, being the crazy way to stay less lonely, in a crowd of same frame of people,..

at least, won’t stay deprived anymore, of fulfilling my dream of living in a hostel..!!


( Always in search of positive approaches from negative environments.. making way for tears, bursting out into laughter..) πŸ™ˆπŸ˜œπŸ˜‚


455. Changing Roles…

“Loving Hearts or Working Minds,

Which one more useful, think twice..”

Asked someone once, to someone else..

who was often humiliated, for not being good at work..

But a great guy, with an awesome heart,

Was left depressed often for having no worth..!!

Some never ignore, the warmth of hearts,

Grey matter, matters most, to some others,

Logic of brains over Love of hearts,

none of them, can ever be equally measured..

when Logic goes stressed, Love brings it rest,

when Love derails, Logic comes to its help.

Leave this eternal fight of Logic and Love,

Let’s play a game, interchanging, for once,

jumbling with the other, each of their roles,

Won’t it be fun watching all around..,

How things go, with Working Hearts and Loving Minds..?!!




442. My Blue Blooded Pet…

Too much of my..

meaningless scribbles,

takes away so much of my..

meaningful time,

so many reads, left to be read,

works of poets, highly talented,

stay pending, in a queue,

long they wait..

for me to learn, how to write,

from them, here, in WordPress.

Again, too much of my reading..

often kills my pen,

its blood, spread everywhere..

blue blue all over it,

there lay my pet..

with its blue blood stains.,

for me it waits,

to put life in it again,

Never mind friends,

in a pen’s life, this happens often..!!


( Something to laugh on, something on a lighter note.. πŸ˜œπŸ™ˆπŸ˜„ )


432. A page, a pen and me…

A diary, open..

on it, lying a pen,

my mental state,

was worth watching..!!

Ogling, me..

to get hold of them,

to touch the pen,

and help it bow down,

to kiss the page..!!

Whatever letters,

running to and fro,

to place..

and ornament them,

with designer alphabets..!!

All the unspoken words,

Of my thoughtful world..

Came rushing, in crowds..!!

This happens often..

Whenever I find..

a bachelor page,

and a spinster pen..!!

Hey World, hope you’re getting,

what I mean..,

here, from my words..!!




426. The Dento-smiles…

The laughters, those genuine ones,

comes only, when we’re happy,

really satisfied from within.,

rest all are chukling, guffawing,

sniggering, tittering..

some more like, grins and smirks,

there are also those giggle like quirks,

one of them, remains still unnamed..

only for the dentists, those are meant,

who makes us do somewhat like smile,

with their well gloved hands,

under dazzling lights,

bending forward, close enough,

with those pair of…

extremely curious, bespectacled eyes..!!