The Storm by Sugandha Indulkar SignUp
Boloji.com
Channels

In Focus

 
Analysis
Cartoons
Education
Environment
Opinion
Photo Essays
 
 

Columns

 
Business
Random Thoughts
 
 

Our Heritage

 
Architecture
Astrology
Ayurveda
Buddhism
Cinema
Culture
Festivals
Hinduism
History
People
Places
Sikhism
Spirituality
 
 

Society & Lifestyle

 
Health
Parenting
Perspective
Recipes
Society
Teens
Women
 
 

Creative Writings

 
Book Reviews
Computing
Humor
Individuality
Literary Shelf
Memoirs
Quotes
Stories
Travelogues
Workshop
 
 
Theme: Social Share This Page
The Storm
by Sugandha Indulkar
Bookmark and Share
  On high mountains and in verdant vales
The winds storm alike, bringing the gush of weather anew,
Beautiful daisies and shy buttercups sway cheerily
Through rising torrents of dusty leaves and wavy rivers

There comes a day when the silent winds are angered
For no obvious reason, they raise a storm,
Mountain ranges laden with trees uprooted
Lie in a heap at the bottom of the vale
Crushing the daisies and buttercups,
The scene looks as if it were ransacked by a hand unknown

Whiny animals, birds and insects lay still with terror
Alas, the autumn ends with a blow
Mighty one at that
When silence did set in on the vale,
It was ghastly, not a thing moved,
There in a distance, a broken twig fell off its only support.

Back in the villages farmers, shepherds and blacksmiths
Lay in their beds covered with thick linen
Thinking about the sudden storm and the rest that it brought
Weary as they were from the mundane routine
They thanked Him for the storm'

Another storm


She waited alone in the dark corner
Would some one rescue her'
The fair maiden once meant for a prince,
Was abducted by the Devil himself,
Her thin frame withered by the blows of the brute

His marks showed on her body and soul
Ugly, devastating the hand brought ruin
Hurt and scarred she waited alone in the dark corner
Would some one rescue her'

How she longed for the days
She scorned the Prince and took pride in her beauty
Only to be crushed by the force of evil,
She had learnt her lesson
Far too badly, she repented her folly
And cried bitterly over her vanity
She yearned for justice
Alas, the tormentor now slaked
Lifted her nimble frame
And threw it in the bushes,

Where another storm rose,
As if angered by cruelty of the Devil,
The winds lifted her body and threw it at the gates of the prince
He ran to see the horror terrified,
He deeply grieved the loss of his beloved.

A storm rose in his bosom,
Eyes red with anger he vowed revenge.
The Storm1.jpg
Share This:
November 19, 2006
More By: Sugandha Indulkar
Views: 1060      Comments: 0




Name *
Email ID
 (will not be published)
Comment *
Verification Code*
Can't read? Reload
Please fill the above code for verification.



 
 
 
 
 
 
 
1999-2021 All Rights Reserved
 
No part of this Internet site may be reproduced without prior written permission of the copyright holder
.