March 31, 2011


Maybe the palmist was right. The time is not yet right.

Things won't happen. Plans won't take off. But it'll be better than last year. Definitely better, he said. 

It is. 


There are certain times I want to see if I can stretch. Make my hand extend to reach the treetop. There is a small little box there. It has a tiny wing. I want that wing.


The reel plays over and over again inside my head. It has psychedelic colours. And they all form patterns. They are abstract to everyone else who sees it. To me, they make shapes I know.


March 27, 2011


“The events in our lives happen in a sequence in time, but in their significance to ourselves they find their own order: the continuous thread of revelation.” - Eudora Welty

March 22, 2011


and in slumber
shapes appear
little golden sheep
and tortoises of bread

potatoes crackle over the stove
jackets getting roasted to russets
little soft hands lull you
back to the whitehead of softness

happiness like wine
turns the senses to sleep mode
barking dogs outside my window
have their scream fest

my thoughts' cacophony
slowly sorts itself into piles
one by one I stash them back
into shelves in my cupboard

fingers ache from a day's movement
feet cry at the cracks
lids shutter down like shop windows
and I breathe to the fan's hum

sleep, blessed sleep with many arms
sandman's gift blown into my eye
slowly you smuggle me into your wings
I fall. i faaallll i faa.....ldiueirjdfhdsj/.............


P.S: Happiness and sleep are a wonderful combination. After an unforgettably brilliant birthday, a proud and happy 24 year old is off to sleep! :)

March 20, 2011

light wings

I have sprouted light wings
in the wee hours of the morning
the wake biding sleep to wait
in the happiness of being

There is no particular reason. And yet again there are a series of little beautiful things since the new year.


Where do I begin? Happiness is so difficult to put to words! :)

March 11, 2011

Short Story- 18

(Attempt at a piece of love-writing. Bear with me if it sounds dumb and hollow! :P)

Last night, you came in my dream. After...what...ten months?! And today, I've not forgotten you. Yet.

All those words are coming back. The ones you used to sweet talk me to silence. How could I speak? Words seemed so inappropriate. I was hoping my silence was more eloquent.

The same colour rushes to my face now as it did when you used that voice of yours to claim me for your own. This time, the colour rises for other reasons- anger? pain?

Or is it embarassment? At having bared open my soul to you and let you camp there? It took me so long to painfully pull out keg after keg that firmly kept your tent down. And every time I removed a keg, my flesh hurt. Smarted with all the love I had just imagined.

Thank god for the distance that separated us- then and now. Blessed distance that kept me safe from my vulnerability.

But sometimes, I wonder, would distance have actually made these plain talks, real? Made meaning of what seems like a stretch of once-upon-a-times?

Today you refuse to go...image stuck in my eyes. Persistance of vision and memory. The colour of your smile...once a cool aquamarine to my senses, now a murky un-understandable brown. Those little crinkles around the corner of your mouth...perfect geometric lines chiselled on to your face, now an ambiguous clutch of arrows shooting out everywhere. And then those almost brown eyes...aah... those that were both warm and cool, trusting and loving; now an intangible white mass with a black pinprick for an iris!

What happened to you? the you I knew, talked to, laughed with and shared life with? Did he die? Did he disappear? Did all the hopes and promises sublimate?

You have changed, and hence, I have changed, and when in dreams we meet, we live another lifetime, the one I once wished into my life!


Coming soon... the journal pages from my two week trip to Landour(the lovely lovely world of Ruskin Bond)! :)

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© Dryad's Peak
Maira Gall