Just a nought, a cipher, that’s all I am!

The Seashell Seeker

Published by Sanket Rathod under , , on Tuesday, March 31, 2009

He went where his wobbly feet took him
Uncaring of length and directions.
Watched over by his mother with vim
With a smile and heart full of cautions.

Everyday he'd land on a shore farther
Than the day and the year previous.
Each day he'd collect a pebble smoother
To the world of shells oblivious.

But it wasn't long before he found one,
An amazingly smooth Mollusc shell.
And with it a strong inclination
To all mysteries coastal unravel.

He grew up proud and well resourced,
With worthy knowledge and collection
Best of the beach and entire shore,
Having roamed its each-every section.

Until one day a girl new in town
Found a seashell as big as a mouse.
He shattered it and buried in ground
After stealing it from her own house.

She cried for days and looked all around.
He regained his rank but not his pride.
Until one day a true mentor he found.
On a seashell-seller he relied.

He grew up to be as good as him.
And found himself wondrous relics.
He gave her a shell with an alike trim
And confessed his deed apologetic.

The little girl now tall and pretty
Smiled at him and took in hers his hand
And softly slipped him something nitty,
A small round pearl shining bright bland.

A Magical World

Published by Sanket Rathod under , , , , on Monday, March 30, 2009

It's a magical world.
Mid January summer,
Saturday night Melbourne,
Flinders St. station crowd.

A dead escalator,
20:00 Sydenham just missed!
A broken bag strap,
And an undone shoe-lace.

The day-work fatigue,
Baking dusky heat,
With stench of smokes
And beer in air.

It's a magical world..
Babel of over 50 tongues,
Yet easily people converse.
My YPK3 on low batt.

Birds feeding on litter,
Blowies buzzing over head
In a crowd of five hundred
On platform five.

The 20:14 Sydenham
Only half an hour late.
What more could happen?
Then a dusty wind swept!

It's a magical world.
Hasty blinks, some eye-rubbing
Is all that it really takes.
A little imagination too.

A purple red horizon,
Silhouetted birds against sky,
Light mist fogging the air,
With some rosy fragrance.

The whole world is fairy lit.
The playlist's too my favourite.
But has an outta-place chime
Definitely that of your anklets.

It's a magical world.
I look for you in the mist,
What more to see I'd wish?
The 20:14 arrives smoking!


Published by Sanket Rathod under , , on Friday, March 27, 2009

I see your bosom heave
With the growing weight inside.
I see how hard you try
To try and not look into my eyes.
You sit close and yet not lean
And make sure your feet don't touch mine.
You breathe in deep and slowly let out,
While your long loose hair softly play on my face.
And yet you so tightly clutch my hand
Ensure I, too, like this moment don't fade away soon,
And our fate, like fingers, is intertwined in each others hands.

The Dark Forest 1-4

Published by Sanket Rathod under , , on Friday, March 27, 2009

A labyrinth of strangled thickets
Trees that've outgrown and outlived Death
Infested, held and dwelt by crickets
A legion of eyes beyond count and math

Black fog unknown murks the swampy air
Revealing only what the woods wish
The endless undergrowth plays a lair
To creatures, I'd rede to there not squish

Rather than conform and in time reveal
The darkness itself seemingly blinds you
The rustling is too a grim aeonian peal
Like grumbles of those lost here were who

But there's a place quite misplaced in there
Very quiet and brightly lit too
Some have heard there lives a dragon rare
But none have lived to tell the tale true



The Dark Forest - 1
nan said... @ 25 March 2009 21:23
Whats cooking inside the dark forest ? :-o
Temme soon
Awaiting part 2 ;)

Sanket Rathod said... @ 25 March 2009 22:04
hee hee ...
i'm making it up as i go... but...
stay tuned!

The Dark Forest - 2
nan said... @ 26 March 2009 17:22
What an imagery !

The Dark Forest - 3
nan said... @ 26 March 2009 15:59
Like grumbles of those lost here were who..
Hmm so the story is getting better ;)
Wassup next ??

The Dark Forest - 4
nan said... @ 27 March 2009 11:49
So you are about to narrate a folklore with dragons and wizards? ;)

Sanket Rathod said... @ 27 March 2009 12:31
...maybe not!

Winged Heart

Published by Sanket Rathod under , on Monday, March 23, 2009

pale fallen leaves
scattered long hair
autumn dry wind
off-shoulder slipped scarf
shimmering gold sunshine
hand-shaded eyes
stand still moment
a newly winged heart

WHO (am I)?

Published by Sanket Rathod under , , , , on Thursday, March 12, 2009

What end this road shall end to?
What life this moment shall live to?
Will ever I find out I am who?
Will then I be who I want to?

The air it seems took your side too.
              Breathe unclogged will I ever be able to ?
Deter from me didn't all delight too.
              Then why can't I smile without you?

Choking me from inside, my cries,
              Unvoiced do they reach you?
Haunting me, all my fallen sighs
                            In cold wind do they caress you?

              My words, my thoughts, what-if-s, what-not-s,
              Unto you each utterance unspoken opts,
              Alive or dead, a wish road to tread,
              And for you to eons serenade.

Seeking with shut eyes my hands,
              Outstretched do they find you?
Murmurings mine, alone among friends
                            In sweet decay do they liven you?

Zest and vigour, doubts long outgrew.
              Part at all, did we really have to?
Walk a paved road, I never expected to.
              Sans destiny, journey, how I should?

What end and achievement , do I fight to?
Will glory outshine the pain I've been through?
Find time enough in this life will I to love you?
Or spend it seeking an answer to the WHO?


Published by Sanket Rathod under , , , on Thursday, March 05, 2009

i shut my ears
and there's still that buzz
coming from but here
taunting me the 'how it wuz'

i shut my eyes
well, as if that'd help
and answer me why
i've lately still been myself



ci•pher (also cy•pher) /ˈsī-fər/ noun
1 a secret way of writing, especially one in which a set of letters or symbols is used to represent others 
2 a code: a message in cipher 
3 (formal, disapproving) a person or thing of no importance. 
4 (BrE) the first letters of sb’s name combined in a design and used to mark things.
— Middle English cifre, from Old French, from Medieval Latin cifra, from Arabic ṣifr, from ṣafira, to be empty, translation of Sanskrit śūnyam.

I am...

I am...
...who I am.



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