Packaged Smiles and Two Spoons of Rain

I took upon a journey
Across the seven seas
In search of something
That had ceased to stay in me

I stayed in lavish rooms
with purple paint and yellow bulbs
and listened to Brahms
to gulp fine silk
down my sore throat

Because if you don’t hold a cigarette with
trembling fingers
and stare at ceiling fans
It’s not artistic enough
to be talked about.

I laughed with people
wrapped in brilliant blue
and did things they did
with flakes on my lips
and creaks that I hid
Detecting fake smirks is not a tough job to do
for valleys never bloom
in eyes drenched in gloom.

The only things I did find pretty
were free, but came at a price.
That you should promise to notice
The ticking of grandfather clocks on Thursday afternoons
And learn to hang on the branches of your own ribcage.

To listen to the children in the street
talking about secret places, and pure bonds of friendship, made with candies and scraped knees.

For beauty resided in the little things, still untouched by the notion of truth, and waiting to be ruined by memories.

In the water oozing from the lips of sleeping babies, and the smell of freshly mown grass, that doesn’t remind you of anything, yet.
In the ever expanding entropy, and patterns in randomness
Promise to cherish things that don’t make much sense.

Peeyush Chauhan wields magic with his pen with this piece on the simpler joys of life.

Abhinav is the man with the lens bringing Peeyush’s poem life with a vivid photograph.