A Mirror Image of who he once was

“Hopes that soar too high have their wings clipped” was Ash’s warning to him

 But set was his sights upon an island of faith towards whose shores his heart                       began to swim;

“Blame me not for the darkness, for I have tried to show you the light”

The fantasy and foolishness of love had him in its grip as to the finish he was ready to fight

Now a man undone, a wreck unraveled and a visage of chaos that has come to pass

Alas, what would Venky give up to be even a Mirror Image of Who He Once Was


Fools indeed do rush in where even angels fear to tread

Here he was plunging headlong into the abyss to her undisguised dread;

“It is not me but yourself that you are depriving of a choice”, she had begun to plead in vain

When has a heart that has lost itself to the lures of passion ever felt the pain?

Now moulded by anxiety and made malleable by agony, lost it all he has

Will Venky ever be even a Mirror Image of Who He Once Was


Every footprint of time has a story to tell

Some of which induce a chill down the spine whereas some cause tears to swell;

“The arrow of time once released knows neither guilt not passion” was her prophesy

Ignoring at his own peril her words of wisdom, he now finds no mercy

Fated to fall and probably never to rise again, facing a destiny callous and crass

Venky will never again be even a Mirror Image of Who He Once Was


Written as part of the December Writing Prompts organised by https://puttingmyfeetinthedirt.com/category/writing-prompts/


  • An Apple Watch to adorn his wrist with a Beats to blast songs into his ear

         X Box in place to provide diversions and a cocooned world to remove every fear;

         Substituting both intelligence and books, he has his soulmates in Siri and Echo

         His insatiable greed for gadgets puts to shame even the notorious Gordon Gekko

         Technology at his fingertips, he had gizmos aplenty too

         But mechanical and soulless, he was an automaton of habit to be true

  • The gleaming Samsung Smartphone from whose keypad his fingers never come unstuck

          Downloading “apps” galore, his poor roving eyes need mustering perennial pluck;

          In sync with the times his language morphs into tablets and smooth surface

          He flips across dating portals, never realizing his scruples and true love efface

          Ensconced in a warped world, he had gizmos aplenty too

          To say that he was a slave to a billion microchips would be too very true

  •  Sacrificing selflessness at the altar of a gazillion selfies

           Investing hard earned money on silicon sticks to improve the quality of ‘wefies’;

          A day without gadgets is for him the coming of a dreaded apocalypse

          Not for him the gentle walks of Thoreau or Humboldt’s awe inspiring trips

          Ticking off his bucket lists, he had gizmos aplenty too

          In the larger scheme of pure life, he was alas a poor victim of marketers’ glue




Beer For Life

Draw deep from a glistening bottle to celebrate that perfect kiss

Steadily down yet another one to mourn a near miss;

Washing away remorse and repentance with a tower of Heineken

Let your hair down and hit the floor as the party has just begun

Bottoms up for the sorrow, nice and easy for the strife

Dude there ain’t a problem as long as there is beer for life

Monday is for Hoegaarden and a night with Erica

Tuesday is a date with destiny and don’t forget Jessica;

Wednesday is Sarah’s turn with a pint of Kilkenny

Thursday evening is Tiger time as promised to pretty Jenny

Bottoms up for the sorrow, nice and easy for the strife

Dude there ain’t a problem as long as there is beer for life

Friday flavour is Cider and in my arm’s rests Kay

Strongbow and Sandy lure my Saturday & to their temptations I give way;

Sunday is a day of rest and a day to welcome Adele

To clear the table and make some room for the lovely Bombardier ale

Bottoms up for the sorrow, nice and easy for the strife

Dude there ain’t a problem as long as there is beer for life

One for the pose, one for the tease and one for tomorrow’s Facebook upload

One for the toast, one for the treat and it’s time for the ones for the road

The final ones however are for the drivers of the train, tram, bus and taxis that we call

For we need to be deposited home safe and sound for the pub again to see us all

Bottoms up for the sorrow, nice and easy for the strife

Dude there ain’t a problem as long as there is beer for life

Noon, morning, twilight or at the ushering in of dawn

The time for hauling in a heavy crate is almost always on;

When at any time you hear the loudest and longest cheer

It would be for the setting of sight upon lovely beer

Bottoms up for the sorrow, nice and easy for the strife

Dude there ain’t a problem as long as there is beer for life 


Tracing the tendrils of cigarette smoke wafting up into thin air

An overwhelming loss scythed through him as he stared into the harsh sun’s glare

While the dead stay alive in eternal sleep, the living are but the disguised dead

The most powerful and profound words are those that remain unsaid

There wasn’t no time for fear or anger or even to let loose a helpless sigh

Nor was left a dreaded little note with just the word ‘goodbye’

Like the ravaging silence that follows a heartless wrecking storm

Mindless of his silent tears and anguished pleas, she just decided to be gone.

Oblivious to the trickling sand in the hourglass of passing time

Living blissfully enraptured in a fateful song with its own haunting rhyme

“It just takes a spark to ignite a burning flame” once said a man of eminence

Woe betide the one who creates the innocuous spark, but fails to assimilate the flame’s essence

Engulfed by a burning inferno, he was the ill-fated Dante about to lose his Beatrice

Totally incapable of creating a ‘Divine Comedy’ to even explain his caprice

Like a graceful eagle which with strong wings, soars high and on and on

On a bright and sunny morning, she just decided to be gone.

People covet the most which they know they will never get

Still driven by burning desire and a raw passion that knows no let

The moment he set sight on her, for him it was a Faustian bargain

Where pleasure was the same as pain and pain fused into false gain

Why don’t people refuse to realize that they do have a choice?

Does something scramble up their thinking, something like pure white noise?

On a day when the mist faded and the sun came blazing out from its horizon

Leaving him high and dry, she just decided to be gone.

When the time for him to meet his Maker finally came

Fluttering eyelids barely remaining open, his quivering lips uttered her name

A sudden voice resonated from deep within and he felt a new hope surging on

“She was always within you and where else could she have even gone!”

A tired but radiant smile across his peaceful countenance broke

Before his eyes finally closed on life’s material yoke

The voice became a visage and the visage beckoned him to follow on

“All along it was you who willed that I just be gone!”


A rudderless boat caught in a gale storm with no shore in sight

Leaving the boatman to rant and rue over his dire plight

Trying to flee misfortune only to land in calamity’s hands

The soul desperately struggles to hold onto faith’s last strands.

Every gleam of light is but a laughing mirage of cruel deceit

Every approaching bank turns out to be devious water in shapely surfeit

Every rising wave that slams into the receptacle with malevolent force

Every whistling sound of the storm that resembles veritable death throes.

Is this the price which genuine and pure passion has to pay?

Other than the merciless slaughtering of innocence is there no other way?

Do the hopes sprouting within tender hearts need to be rend asunder?

Is the expectation of togetherness in itself humanity’s greatest blunder?

Fie upon a society that clings to mores archaic and medieval

Curse upon mankind which makes impossible, even kindred survival

As the mighty waves finally wash over the heads of the figures in the sinking boat

It’s the very shameful crucible of mankind that drowns unable to float.

The Illusory Loom

Why does the obstinate heart fail to understand?

That there is no magic ticket to any promised land

On barren patches of soil, roses never bloom

Fabrics of fascinating dreams become the mere products of an illusory loom

Patterns of complex emotions as they abruptly manifest

Alternating between uncontrolled angst and infinite jest

Knowingly clinging on to a fading mirage and still unwilling to let go

Finding myself battered by a vortex of fate’s inevitable show

At the point of no return where reigns only sheer despair

I begin to blame the world deeming existence itself to be inevitably unfair

Failing to comprehend that I am the master of my own prejudice and pride

Having no one but myself to scorn, denounce and deride.