Remembering dad

Photo by Michelle Ding on Unsplash

The dawn on this particular August morning was warm, unlike the many sweaty, sleepless ones I endured here during my school days. The house used to be a heated oven during summers back then. Although all it really did was make us irritable and short-tempered, to suffer through it, for me, was a testament to a good Christian life.

It was not until I moved out to the city for my first job, and dad returned from “the Gulf” to live in India for good, that he decided that something needed to be done about it. …


Photo by Author

In the peak summer heat it rains — 
dark clouds soften the sunlight,
the earthy scent refreshes the senses.
A tender breeze touches
with its cool moist droplets.
Birds rejoice, trees dance, leaves flutter;
and so does the mind.

A poem

Photo by Angus Read on Unsplash

I step into your darkness,
but I can't see you.
I hesitate to call out, to intrude,
what if you're asleep?
This pitch-black,
most severe shade of darkness —
could it get any darker!

Blinded by light for too long,
now I cannot see
the figure lying still,
not very far from me.

I close my eyes, delving
into the deepest of my darkness;
in that profound blackness
I search for my lost sight.

As I open my eyes, it’s there
before me: a grey world painted
in its myriad intriguing shades.
In its hands, clasped in a tight hug,
delicately interwoven,
I finally find you.

Inspired by J.D. Harms‘ prompt “defy physics

Photo by Marco Lastella on Unsplash

My first crush in school
was this boy, a Physics geek.
I thought it wise to resort
to your laws to get him to like me.

Your law of attraction, I read:
Attraction: Linear to mass, inverse to distance;
word by word, over and again,
with boxes of pizza next to me.
Then, with the weight thus gained
deliberately over a summer break,
closest to him I sat in class —
but not once did he return my glance.

Disappointed now,
set to forget, I turned
to your law of inertia of rest:
What’s at rest will remain so, until acted upon.

A poem

Photo by GEORGE DESIPRIS from Pexels

I dread to think, lest it be of you;
those luscious memories I cannot undo —
endearing walks on moon-kissed nights,
the covert glances, the riveting talks,
brief encounters, and enticing cues.
Moments captured, treasured for life,
flash before me pleading to relive;
vain entreaties, as I self assure,
drops most pure streak down my cheeks.

With every breath, I strive to deny
the silent words that choke within;
words that speak through the gushing gale,
the chirping birds and the silent skies:
I love thee much, though barriers stretch;
like an ivy onto the wall, true, doth clutch.
This battle I…

One line poem

Photo by Aron Visuals on Unsplash

She rocks me on her lap
humming a soft lullaby,
I close my eyes, slip
into night’s deep slumber;
that perfect round dot
on her dark forehead,
wanes into darkness.

In response to this week’s prompt “Moon” by Ana-Maria Schweitzer.

For my teachers

Photo by Susan Flynn on Unsplash

For the storms keeping me grounded,
sun spreading hope, unfailing,
stars instilling wonder;
mountains, resilience;
experiences teaching to be
at peace with what’s changing:
jobs, money, people, self —
I’m grateful.

Thanks to Sherry Kappel for the prompt “Gratitude” :

A poem

Photo by Sajina Ignatius

Chug, chug, he chugs along
with a pack of strangers;
boarding, alighting,
then repeating.

Far from home, in many places,
seeking answers from unusual spaces;
a stranger in strange destinations.

Exploring, yet seldom catching
the fleeting glimpses of true meaning.
Walking past streets, often unseeing
the signboards, homeward-pointing;
he struggles, with false belonging.

About a cyclone

Photo by businesstoday

Rays of light from a concealed sun
from behind the broad, somber clouds,
refracting through layers of mist,
losing heat and glow; spreads out
cold and grey.

Heavy whips of rain lash out
in sheets, delivering its wrath —
overflowing dams,
breaching rivers and canals,
washing out homes and houses;
the flood creeps up to my knees.

Fierce winds from across the sea
storm against tall trees, that
sway frantically in a wild dance,
percussing in absolute madness.
Strong buildings, refusing to budge,
slice the gushing air with its edges;
the deflected winds howl in rage.

As I watch in ghastly silence,
nature’s this wild orchestra;
as the mighty cyclone hits the coast —
deep, shrill wails ring in my ears:
dark whispers of a battered, troubled sea.


Photo by Juliane Liebermann on Unsplash

Flowers that blushed, you
unwittingly crushed when you
walked away that day.

Sajina Ignatius

Wife. Mother. Aspiring Writer & Poet. Dance enthusiast. Here to share my experiences and write on Self improvement, Mental Health and Relationships.

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