Lorrenzetti .


Sienese paintings , Nithya Suri

The unfinished curves and lines

Crane their necks ,

Overlooking perspectives distorted ,

Making a strange obsession ;

of the night sky .

Parading halos so farce around our heads ,

They disguise themselves under your naked stare .

The tightly locked music ,

Echoed only in these labyrinth .

The tops of the simplest answers ,

Found buried under displaced patterns .

Traces of the original ,

Marked by golden hands ,

Giving away gifts so frivolous ,

Punctured by motives of many .

So bored are their eyes ,

Whilst climbing into a shell ,

Precariously sliding into infinity ,

Merging into a world ,

Of suspended dimension and imagery .

Himself .


Florence ,Nithya Suri

He climbed the ladder upstairs ,

To the home of rodents and unawares .

In a dreary cold situation he lay ,

To compensate for the time ,

that never swayed .

As he buried himself,

In a cozy coffin ,

He wondered about the people;

Down below .

Would they have a story to tell ,

Or would they just remain ,

Talking and laughing ; ignorantly so .

He worried ,

In a jerky pace ,

Wanting this journey to end .

His thoughts choked him ,

Bringing him into a strange world ,

That no warm breath,

would ever dare to know .


Florence ,Ntihya Suri

Empty Shores


Little Alec didn’t know where he was going but he did like the yellow paper boat that he was traveling in . The skies looked their usual dark self indicating nothing but the blankness it enveloped,the river underneath a sludge that would boil and swallow anything that approached . It gurgled like a thick black paste that was charred beyond its identity left to boil and then forgotten . Alec believed that if he looked close enough he could see tiny toes and tiny eyes wriggling up at him from the river . They would try to catch his attention , but Alec liked to believe that he was smart.

Every time his boat would drift ashore , a tiny clown with luminous blue eyes and a bitten off head would appear .Alec’s fear would synchronize with his growing heartbeat whenever he would see the clown . He would shut his eyes awaiting the impending disaster or something even as insignificant as his death . Nothing ever happened . It never would .

The clown with the bitten off head would simple take an oar and stir up the sludge ,making sure all the toes ,eyes dissolved properly .Alec would be dizzy whenever he would stir up the river creating a whirlpool so that he would never drift ashore .

At first travel to this known side was exciting ,after all he had left all the known of the other side for this. But soon Alec grew weary of this travel .He wouldn’t feel hungry or thirsty ,just plain lonely .

Sometimes just out of curiosity and a lot of boredom Little Alec would try and trip his yellow paper boat into the river ,but whenever he tried  he would all hear his mother shouting at him . The echoes of which would ring in his ears “Alec ! Don’t do that ,else I shall lock you in your grandfather’s black cupboard “