The Misfit

The Misfit

The rustic pigeon had a rainbow scarf
that it proudly used to show off
Sometimes it sat on the window sill
sometimes it tiptoed on the rooftop

Though it came from a far off place
It settled down on a concrete space
Often it spread its velvet wings
to bring in sprigs and leafy things.

One day a little feather fell with a start
From a place near the pigeon’s heart
The air was thick in the unknown town
so it stuck on a branch when it fell down

With gruffy leaves the branch was dry
Scared, the little feather began to cry
The warmth of wings it missed a lot
Separation was a painful thought

As the time flew the feather lost hope
It learnt to endure…it learnt to cope
Taunted for the unrefined dialect it spoke
The misfit feather’s spirit just broke

Still it survived, though hurt and aloof
Life doesn’t need the burden of proof
Those who shame others have opaque eyes
Why bother about fake opinions and advice

The feather was soft with a soul of steel
It loved itself, the wounds began to heal
Whenever it felt lonely it hugged itself tight
while dreaming of the warmth of home each night.

© Taruchaya

Winter

The cold is setting in slowly
Hot chocolate calls my name
The December air is a little hazy
Winter is laying it’s claim

The pigeons sunbathe unabashedly
The green butterfly fluttered by
The kittens prance around shyly
Marshmallows float in the sky

And I’m getting hungrier these days
I stole a scoop from the creamy moon
The stars giggled while giving a chase
so I hid inside my dreamy cocoon.

© Taruchaya

The Substitute

Photo © Taruchaya

The Substitute

I’ve been searching for long
and finally found
the substitute
for your affection and time
unspoken words that drowned
because time was irresolute.

Thank God for streaming apps
I’m grateful to the internet
for the substitute
I found love in a few taps
wherein the dramas the lovers met
after few squabbles and dispute

When I missed home
I drew mountains for solace
as a substitute
Because I felt alone
But couldn’t show it on my face
I preferred to be mute

Yes I’m glad I found the substitute
The moon substituted love intense
Butterflies substituted far away friends
Everything that I was able to permute
While shadows spoke without offence
and sunset symbolised nothing ends

Next time you don’t hear from me long
Don’t worry I’ll still be around
For I can be a substitute
If things ever go wrong
If your thoughts get profound
I shall be your escape route!

© Taruchaya