The Assembly Line

                                          Everyone is an automaton here. The thing called dream is prohibited and individuality is compromised. They have a pattern, a schema and a prehistoric idea according to which they design their views. They created an assembly line to make the lifeless machines to implement their views. It starts from the very beginning they slowly start with the visualization of their plan in the eyes of the preliminary product; it’s a small seed that is planted. The prototypes can think and can dream but it is the reflection of the makers. Then the assembly line moves on the product is tested, evaluated, graded and judged and in the process questioned for uniformity when it was born for individuality. They singe the product, scar its ends, scrounge the last inch of pride and integrity from it and drain the colour from it. The products oblige for in the name of loyalty to the maker the product stands mum as it is chiseled and its soul removed. It takes hit after hit it loses sight of what it really is of what it really loves it knows not love anymore! They let no light in it, gets so dark. There are rebels, there products which fail to oblige but it is in the nature of the maker to destroy the infectious stray. So, at the end when it is scrutinized and compared to their planned patent it is thrown out as trash as it does not fit in.        

Endangered

ENDANGERED

                    She is the silent sky that smiles at you every time you chance to look up. The sky is eternal but its nature sways with tenderness and sometimes like a storm. She is all the distances between the familiar and the unknown. She smiles like the day hides the night inside. She sighs at the moon and shuns the sun. She is all the songs that hang in the air unsung. She walks unknown, unseen stringing together souls like pearls from another world. She sees all colour and seeps in with the light like the dark.

                    She is everything you find yourself at lose of words for, she laughs with the streams that flow your heartwards. She is the pain that hurts heaven-like. Words spill on her paper like the rain in the monsoon. Everywhere you lose your trail she stretches her hand to you asking to get lost with her. She sees colour in everyone, that quivering green in the heart of the unknown. That heartbreaking blue which drenches you head to toe, that flaming orange which sometimes catches you off guard. The crimson which blazes the night catches your soul and drags it out without caution. The yellow that sings familiar songs in your ears. She says she sees monochrome in the mirror and the wind tugs at her to call her liar!

                    In her all those little secrets that you want to uncover. With her all those little lies that you want lay your lips on. The quivering electricity that rips your heart out. She is the thunder to that electricity she burns through your existence. She is questions that are left unanswered, she smiles knowingly. She plays charades with your heart, you ask for hers as yours lays breaking at her sight. She just says”give me love”.  You obey you fly across the skies to hang your heart at her door steps. But where is her heart? Where is the wild heart that sets fire to all the pauses mid-sentence?  Where is the heart that makes the distance between your mind and your heart stretch miles?  You stare into the eyes for answers because you are a fool for things that kill you! The minute you meet her eyes you see a thousand road maps, you smile silently! This heart that shakes your world, this heart that knows no justice! This heart, your chance at sanity! You leave it at her will because you don’t see many that are dark and scintillating at the same time, you don’t see many that are as untainted as hers! You don’t see many that make you speechless like hers! You don’t see many that are as endangered as hers. You leave with a kiss to the wind. She becomes the relentless moon in your night and steals your sleep like she knows your intention.