"because what you sow is not always what you reap"

I saw my neighbour’s veranda

with a beautiful flower blooming 

a fragrance giving joy and pleasure

a feel soft and full of leisure

the petals were red and magnificent

But then there were fences

long, wretched and horny. . . .

i tried to reach
i tried to crawl
giving my last breath on and on
it hurt as it penetrated deep
tears in eyes and bleeding skin
but, all in vain..all efforts futile..
the flower is charming and magnetic
but smiling far apart from me

Give it a thought my dear me!

What if my garden also blooms
with beautys exemplary

Let us do no more wait

Time is precious and over flowing
don’t let the grains go away

Determined I was

Prepared myself up

With seeds, water, soil and a few more things

I went to my veranda on and on

Dig the soil, sow a seed and poured water more and more

Made sure it gets sunshine

To grow, bloom and bear fruits
fruits juicy and rich
giving joy, satisfaction and bliss

That day the night I slept

Was unusual in the sense I ever had had

It was excitement, curiosity and nervousness

But my optimism showed me dreams

Of fragrance, soft and red 

I woke up the next day

To add nourishment to the pot

Talked to it..shared my griefs 
and poured expectations I ever had

It still lies somewhere underneath

I cannot see, listen or even feel

What drives is an everlasting hope

That it will grow one day and bloom
as it does on my neighbour’s roof

“come on! Wake up! You cannot do this.

 Days have passed and so months..

Bear flowers and fruits..

common..I can no more resist you.”

But all what I saw

Were weeds growing

That perpetuated the more i was plucking

Too much of sunshine

Had burned a few of buds that

Once had even ever occurred

The standing water

Became a room for algae

and a beautiful flower was no where to be seen

Days passed and so did months

And then came a time when summers had come

Finished the season for magnificent roses

The seeds are dormant

and so did me

I laid in my bed

Tossing from here and there

Drops a tear down my cheeks

When comes a voice somewhere from within

“because what you sow

Is not always what you reap”

author's note:

we all have wishes, dreams, desires and everlasting hopes in life. we always aspire and want a few things to be fulfilled. some of our wishes are very practical, that is, they always have fair chances of being fulfilled; while others only rest in our figments of imagination..all through our life. whatever be the intensity of dreams, howsoever achieved or failed a person is, each one of us at every stage of life has some wish pending. and, i believe..this is not wrong. we all are humans and it is natural and legal to wish in a democratic country.

the wish of possessing a garden of blooming flowers are metaphoric to our day-to-day wishes and demands. the narrator being inspired for the same by noticing a garden on his neighbour's roof is no coincidence. you will have to agree that most of your desires are perpetuated by noticing that of others! 

the narrator trys to fulfil it by pouring water, sunshine, manure...and even talks and discusses its griefs with it. same way, we work hard, toil and put every torment to fulfil our dreams. we even travel through sleepless nights..tossing in bed..the way narrator did. but, sometimes too much of care and concern rather deteriorates the things; just the way too much of water on standing and too much of sunshine did to his garden. . . .

but then, a candle needs darkness to light. what i mean is "unfulfilled wishes" are sometimes the essence of living on. so, i don't regret for unfulfilled things. hope my readers even don't. 
:with love~isha jain~

TRAVELERS IN DESERT

A hot shining sun overhead

Its heat was at its peak

Lifted my head to catch a glimpse of it

And then there were contracted pupil

As if even they were afraid from its

 high intensity and ultraviolet

my head down not to prevent the light

but in awe, stress and disgrace

the travelers took their shirts off

most of those were in light or white

dipped them in water meagre  or none

and tied them on head  round  and tight

most of them now ressembled to those dacoits or terrorists

watched in movies or read in newspapers

over and over but never witnessed

no..I don’t say I am a fashion vista

Or a tourist eager to get clicked

But looking like a ran out from some group of mafia

Was completely out of a few girlish things I did

Unwrapped the stole round my neck

And wrapped over head and face

To the maximum I can

I saw a man taking out his clothes off

And then only a red colored boxers on and all

He tored it into pieces which were then folded

To air himself in motion ought to be repeated

My eyes fell as I had the notion

Had I been the eve before eating the apple

I checked my sling bag

For a bottle of water

It had an amount far less than for a toddler

My eyes twinkled and tongue twirled

As it was a gift in a hot and dry desert

And then A gulp of water

Through my throat

Brought  a  gaze of  eyes dark and deep

 With accompalice of a silent plea

“pretty girl! My baby is hungry

a drop of water is no less than an urgency.”

The sound was soft, slow and lovely

When interrupted words from a man dark and eyes bulging

“you are young ,growing and gay

  can sustain without water days and days

  I am  a weak and old man

 who  feels his life coming to an end”

I smacked my lips

With my tongue out

trying to lick

Even a few drops around

My mouth dint utter any words

Nor did the head lifted up

Before  the eyes had grown to refuse them

An empty water bottle is all I showed them

I was seated on a camels back

When I admired a big hump he had

I wished if I too had had

Must have stored water for months long back

I moved my head round and round

To see if any plants on soil I did found

But all I saw was sand and sand

With tiny grains blue, brown and black

Those grains shifted from here to there

 As if they  too were searching for a chill nowhere

But I wont lie if I say

That a line of dots I saw again and again

A fine level of sand all across

I Kept my eye glued over all

Only to find a scorpion underneath it

It moved on that sand

With an ease

As if a show stopper on a ramp in heels

In the task of creeping

That creature left its footprints

All alone and mind not working

Silly! You are noticing so petty things

 And then a lady touched a plant of cactus

(Huh! How offensive appears to call cactus a plant I think

For it neither gives shade nor juicy fruits to eat)

When a flow of blood started rushing out through her finger

And his husband took her finger in his mouth

Unable to guess if to calm her

Or to suck that fluid on a hot and dry desert around

The journey is hard, dry and sunny

All peace and calm

But still commotion within

Time is slipping and so are resources

All mirage and nothing could be trusted

That dark man said it all right

His life was nearing an end hot and dry