Faceless, an acrylic painting

FacelessPaintingbyMonicaIngudam.jpg

Faceless

Faceless , probably apt for something I wrote sometime back 084 IT’S ALL IN THE MIND : FACELESS

I was scared,
I seeked your protection,
Only to be left damaged and faceless.

The fate of a painting which was meant for Colors, I wrote sometime back 032 IT’S ALL IN THE MIND : COLORS THROUGH YOUR EYES

How would I know of the beauty of the vibrant green color of the bamboo leaves ?
How would I know of the beautiful rich saffron color soil of the hill ?
How would I know the beauty of the golden sun as it rises and sets?
How would I know the beauty of flowers with colors ?
I am color blind,
I know “beautiful” and “colors” through your eyes and words,
Otherwise it’s a mere black and white sight.

APaintingByMonicaIngudam.jpg

Colors through your eyes

Colors through your eyes, an acrylic painting

COLORS THROUGH YOUR EYES

How would I know of the beauty of the vibrant green color of the bamboo leaves ?
How would I know of the beautiful rich saffron color soil of the hill ?
How would I know the beauty of the golden sun as it rises and sets?
How would I know the beauty of flowers with colors ?
I am color blind,
I know “beautiful” and “colors” through your eyes and words,
Otherwise it’s a mere black and white sight.

APaintingByMonicaIngudam.jpg

Colors through your eyes

An acrylic painting by Monica Ingudam

088 It’s all in the mind : The Garden

The Garden 

You find yourself in a place,
Where feelings doesn’t count anymore,
Tears doesn’t mean anything,
You fall and fall again,
To be left,
Abandoned and deserted,
Where no empathy is found,
And you see yourself sinking quickly.
But you hold on to the Garden,
Hold on tightly,
To the garden filled with sweet peas flowers,
Filled with fragrance from the jasmine blooms,
The yellow orchids adding to the colors,
Bringing you close to the ginger lily plant,
The scent you seek for,
The garden, your garden,
Which never fails to lift you up,
Making you walk tall and high, yet again.Everyone has the garden,
You just have to figure out,
And find your garden, the garden,
Which you can hold on,
When you know you are starting to sink.

~The End~

An Experimental attempt to put thoughts in writing by Monica Ingudam.

087 It’s all in the mind : The Rickshaw Ride at Tiddim Road

The Rickshaw Ride at Tiddim Road 

It was a sunny calm afternoon,
With no bandhs and no bombs,
I walked stirring the dust on the road,
Watched the dust fall on my blue flat pump shoes,
The road starting from Kwakeithel,
A new found freedom filled me,
Walking alone on this road,
The road I once feared to walk,
The fear instilled with unpredictable bomb blast,
The fear instilled with frequent kidnappings,
With a freedom bounded by my protective parents.

I waved to a Rickshaw across the road,
I ask him if he could take me to moreh dukan near Keishampat,
He said yes,
I hesitated as I got a whiff of alcohol from his breath,
Then I climbed up the rickshaw,
Feeling safe looking at the wide open Tiddim Road,
Telling myself “What could he do?”
Having the confidence to punch if required.

I watched the half broken buildings on the way,
As all the landmarks I knew disappeared,
The familiar shop and signboard were all gone,
A result in the attempt to widen the Tiddim Road,
A thick compensation offered which bought people’s silence,
The man pedals steadily,
I inhaled the dust getting the taste of the lovely cold wind blowing across my face.

And soon I was greeted with the familiar sight I seeked for,
Bringing out my smile,
I asked the man how much was the fare,
He said whatever was the going rate,
I didn’t know what was the going rate,
I asked him if he had change and gave him a crisp 100 Rs note,
He slipped an old 50 Rs back to me,
Thanking him I walked towards my destination,
Feeling accomplished,
It was my lone Rickshaw ride,
The Rickshaw ride at Tiddim Road.

~The End~

An Experimental attempt to put thoughts in writing by Monica Ingudam.

Authors Note: It’s a small event but a huge leap for me giving me the rush of freedom riding a rickshaw in the conflicted place of Manipur, India.

086 It’s all in the mind : The poison drink

The Poison Drink 

They say it’s bad,
They say it’s sinful,
I agree it’s bitter,
I agree it burns,
And yet you can’t resist,
You return once again,
To quench your thirst for the buzz,
The buzz that takes you to your world,
You know it can kill you,
And you nod in agreement,
Asking how do you unfeel a buzz ?

~The End~

An Experimental attempt to put thoughts in writing by Monica Ingudam.

085 It’s all in the mind : The Greys

The Greys 

Breaking promises knowingly,
Loosing the art of making up purposely,
Giving up on trying,
And spitting out borrowed words.

Mastering the art of icing,
Being the envy of many,
Creating the perfect piece,
And covering all the imperfections.

The Greys are here,
Time is short,
Will there be enough time to heal ?
And soon all will be ashes.

~The End~

An Experimental attempt to put thoughts in writing by Monica Ingudam.

084 It’s all in the mind : Faceless

Faceless

I was scared,
I seeked your protection,
Only to be left damaged and faceless.

~The End~

An Experimental attempt to put thoughts in writing by Monica Ingudam.