Experiments...

A bubbling cauldron
a tightened screw
a pinch of imagination
in the dreamer's stew
a wonder in the making
or a living nightmare
its a mystery to be solved
with patience and care

Experiments...
So many things run through my head as think of this word:

A witch stirring a cauldron with a twisted handle
Dr. Jackyll working in his laboratory at his hideous creation.. Mr. Hyde
A faded picture of Einstein with his tongue out on a wrung out old white T-shirt
A cover-less copy of Sheldon's "Stranger In The Mirror" quickly stowed under the bed by shivering young hands
That hiccuping first swirl of Grey smoke from a best friend's cigarette
A rainbow coloured parachute lifting off a white beach with its cargo of closed eyes mumbled prayers and a pair of flying pigtails
A crumpled piece of torn paper from the back of a notebook with hurried scribbles of a first time poetess
Chemistry lab, with a whiff of that strangely alluring smell of hydrochloric acid
The bustle outside a Boards exam centre
The black dolphin on someone's soft brown skin
An unnoticed drop of orange on a plain white canvas sheet
The first trace of perfume on a smooth round neck
The tremble of uncertain feet on a brand new accelerator
The intoxicating smell of a blank checkbook's first check
The tingling memory of a first kiss
Sweaty palms before an interview panel
The guilty pangs over a faithful lie
The noisy intake of every soundless breath
The muted fizz of every spoken word



Experiments.. In the laboratory of life, every moment is an experiment, the results of some are instantaneous and others just continue long after we are gone..
Everything we are, everything we will be, every single thing we do... genius or fool.. criminal or saint, each is an experiment with the ingredients slightly varied, may be an extra turn to that bubbling broth or a an extra big pinch of that reddish brown powder..

PS:This is a result of the prompt on the sunday scribbles, something I came across while reading Veena's blog earlier today

Witch on The moon..

Right now i feel like a witch.
I just feel like getting on my new broom, with its tiny blue stars and wacky handle, and escaping from my hostel window, flying off into the dark wilderness beyond.
I can almost feel the heat rise to my cheeks as the cold hits them like a friendly slap, can almost see my wild black hair getting wilder as they get whipped back behind me by the speedy force, can taste the sweet tears of freedom as the crazy wind makes my eyes stream

What freedom, what joy, what magic, being my own mistress and that of the black kingdom spread out before me.
The whole sky is my domain, its velvety softness passing through my open fingers like liquid silk.
The stars are my soldiers, bowing in my wake as I brhoom past them on my shiny wooden broom.
And what is that below me? Is it a city lit up just for me too see or have the heavens turned on their belly to honour this night flyer?
Its a sight..
From this high up, the roads with their yellow lamps look like narrow streams of gold zigzagging across a city of black coal
The rare car seems like little diamond coated animals going out for their nightly hunt by the side of the stream.
The houses with their still lights are like drops of water from a recent shower still clinging to the ground for their momentary lives.
Its a sight..
and its all mine..
what power, what pleasure, what beauty, what possibility.
I stand there for a while hanging there like a star myself.. the brightest of them all.. the queen.. the witch..
and then off i go rising higher, faster and faster every second, my body flat against that of my broom, my robe billowing out around me.. a bird of prey in flight..
higher i rise than ever before, towards that creamy rocky little crest of the moon.. my shining thrown hung in the sky for all to admire..
I sit there in its smooth rounded chalice, my broom hanging by its sharp edge..
I sit there wondering, pondering, living out every fantasy, and then dreaming up a few more..

I sit on the moon with my magic wand
turning dreams to reality and castles to sand
I sit on the moon lost in thought
free from the world in the haven i had sought
I sit on the moon looking at my world for a while
noting every single tear seeing every single smile
I sit on the moon and wonder about life
would it be heaven or would it be strife
I sit on the moon away from the violence
listening to the music of pure silence
I sit on the moon being wise being clever
I sit on the moon for now for ever..

PS: had this sudden urge to write so put up two posts at the gap of a couple of hours, so please don't forget to check the tag reply below.. hope you like both the posts.. take care