The ordeal of the Prayer Man

A holy place, a place within
transposes thoughts to a halo
so sacred, so wanted, so blurred
saying a prayer to t he greatest heart
but beware, as he does not listen to you
the Prayer Man is the one to help you
tell him what you want & what you dont
you wish, your dream, fears & foes
the one who has mastered this art
will pass on your prayer to the Creator's heart

so then, starts the process of passing messages
one accepted one resigned
the mysterious glow from the holy spot
blinds all, the believers & the believe-me-nots
the Prayer Man, finally, pleased with his work
thanks the Almighty for the blessings pot
and decides to pray one day for himself
when the light disappeared
the sound deafened
the body cold
and the breath lost

Comments

Going Ballistic

Chop Chop Chop!! "ruchi sssssssssssssssssshhhhh" "What?" "Umm...shhhh" "Well, okay. Whatever." ..and the Chop Chop Chop continues. I was too absorbed into my own thoughts to figure out where the "ssshhh"s have been coming from. For one, I was listening to music o full blast. Of course that meant the rest of the world can do whatever they want and I wouldn't care two hoots. "Say maybe, you're gonna be the one who saves me..." I sing my way to annoy the "ssshhh" ing person. BAh! Although, apparently all of my actions and words were louder than usual, and more importantly, louder than necessary. For a couple of odd days, mom thought I had some hearing difficulties and this was my way of dealing with it. Heart-wreaking as it was, my colleagues seconded this, with a few attributing it to the constant music blast in my ears. So, crazy as it was getting, I resisted the opinions, that turned into judgemen...

Post-it

Waking up to the sounds of nature, She did all she could to avoid her start to the day. The routine wasn't hers to follow, so God help those who wanted to help her. With a bag full of munchies and a bouncy walk with the blaring music in her ears, she walked to her regular book store - one that was not ruined by the virtues of modern technologies. In the pile of her books, behind her glasses, she felt like a princess in her own right. Owning the world of words. Conquering all thoughts. Riding her horse of imagination. "This one is tricky", she heard a voice which almost felt like it came from within. "I can't seem to decide what book I want read. They all either equally good, or well, equally bad." Slowly rising from the top rim of the book, her eyes tried to make sense of what her ears just caught. "Sir, what genre of books do you read?", asked the furious sales woman behind the counter. She was obviously not happy with this confused customer who...

Shelf of unread books

'Where to mister?" she yelled at me from a distance, loud enough for everyone to notice. "Hey, I'm not some kind of a thief, just looking around, grabbing a book to read. That's what they're meant for, right?" "Yea, if you pay for it!" "Of course, here." I paid for the stack of papers bound together in knots of tiny rounds, filled with words that were about to change my life. As I walked home, I was beaming with a sense of refreshment. I hadn't read a book in months, and calling myself an avid reader wasn't true anymore. It was a cold Saturday afternoon, and I was dreaming about a warm coffee in my balcony with my book. However, my footsteps had a different afternoon planned for me. "No, sir. Dalal Street is where I want to go. Could you help me?" I heard an unfamiliar accent from the corner of the street. "Seedha rasta hai" "What?" "It's straight from this turn, approximat...

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