Death

A young bird, once longed to fly across the sky.
The big blue sky always beckoned to her,
The vast expanse, the cottony clouds, and warm sunlight,
And as she watched millions of others fly across everyday, the desire increased.

But the keeper would come,
to cut her wings out lest she learn to fly.
And yet, she would wait, for the next dawn, hoping her wings would grow again.

"There was a bright light at the end of a tunnel"
someone had told her.
And she would wait, for a new day,
watching the sky all day.
And the keeper returned,
to cut her wings again as they grew.

And one day, she lay there,
her life almost ending,
and she watched the sky longingly.
There was no keeper now, but there were no wings either.
With every passing day, her passion to fly had risen
until on a day, her lungs burst with tears
and she lay there dying, unable to fly forever.

But yet she tried, but was too old to conquer the sky.
Having lived her life in her mind for a million years,
she took one last flight, in old age without wings,
and fell with a low unheard thud,
and lay there dying, wishing she had tried earlier.

A Feather

I was but the feather,
Which swayed in the gentle breeze,
You, being the breeze my love,
Took me along in your stride.

Moving with you,
Holding back but for a moment,
As you pushed me higher into space!

Oh! But I was the delicate feather,
Ever afraid of falling off!

But you carried me along,
Now as a gentle breeze, then as a strong wind,
And together, we danced on,
Traveling far, into an unknown land of pleasure,
As I moved on, to wherever you took me.

- Gitanjali.

A Love Story

He told me a story,
The story of an angel,
The day she went for a stroll,
On her silver horse.

The roads were dusty and
Golden dust rose everywhere she went.
Cutting through the wind she was,
Her silver mane following through.

She met him here, as they crossed ways.
He was astride on the darkest of horses,
And was on a merry ride!
As he shouted out her name,
A thunder it was for us to hear,
She flashed a brilliant smile, which was returned with chivalry,
And the lightning cut through.

It was love at first sight,
And she climbed into his horse,
As she did, the silver stars from her skirts,
Scattered to earth,
And rain it was.

As they rode away together afar,
A trial of pink was left behind,
For the angel blushed,
And the twilight came…

The Undead Princess

I came across this article on Diana this morning. It described the findings of a doctor who claimed, if she had been brought to the hospital earlier, the Princess of Wales could've been saved. True, Princess Diana has been a great person, someone the world is forever going to miss. She probably would've contributed more to the world, with her charitable acts and gentle persona but yet, we must accept the fact and come to terms with her death.

How useful is it to spend time on a woman, who died a few years ago? We do have post mortems and autopsies which are definitely a flourishing science, but then here we are talking about a person dead years ago! The time spent on analysing if survival was possible for the princess could've been better used for so many other things! Atleast, the world is full of woes and new medical problems arise every single minute.

Its sad but true, a person from the third world, who may've died from a rare disease, would receive less medical attention than a Princess who died of injuries in an accident involving a drunk driver!