20 Lines A Day

A Community of Writers and Photographers

A Small Dream

I haven’t written anything substantial for so long.. seems to me as if the worm that used to make me write is now dead; still I am trying feebly to write something, even if it is bizarre.

A small dream

of doing something,


just to get off bed,

have a nice bathe,

wear some decent clothes

and set out to see the world-

its a small dream

I dream of everyday

staying, sulking on the bed.


The Blitz Poem

Beautiful sky

Beautiful love

Love so fair

Love so sly

Sly is who I am

Sly is the world

World so dreary

World is a dream

Dream in the night

Dream of the day

Day quite warm

Day with a charm

Charm act outward

Charm so fake

Fake is who I am

Fake is this world

World freedom

World enlightens

Enlightens the path

Enlightens my soul

Soul concept of life

Soul concept of death

Death for me and you

Death so inevitable

Inevitable circumstance

Inevitable depression

Depression kills

Depression controls mind

Mind your own business

Mind so lame

Lame is who I am

Lame is the world

World so sultry

World where I live

Live in the shadow

Live in the oblivion

Oblivion choices

Oblivion sky

Sky so high

Sky so blue

Blue waters

Blue cheese

Cheese of cow

Cheese I love

Love is who I am

Love is the world

World is yours

World is mine



Well, I hope you are not angry for reading this poem(yes it is a poem) which is full of meaningless phrases and words.

But I loved writing it and I hope you are also going to love it.

Blitz is a 50-line poem, completely made up of small phrases. Rules-

1. Line 1 should be one short phrase or image.

2. Line 2 should be one short phrase or image, using the same first word as the first words of Line 1.

3. Line 3 should include the phrase, using the last word of Line 2.

4. Line 4 should include the phrase, using the last word of Line 2.

5. Line 5 should include the phrase, using the last word of Line 4.

6. Line 6 should include the phrase, using the last word of Line 4.

7. Line 7 should include the phrase, using the last word of Line 6.

8. Line 8 should include the phrase, using the last word of Line 6.

9. Keep on repeating the routine till Line 48.

10. Line 49 is the last word(only) of Line 48.

11. Line 50 is the last word(only) of Line 47.

If you have any questions, do ask them. And try it- I know it is a little time consuming and a little confusing as well, but it is quite entertaining when we write it.


A Letter to Laura

Dear Laura

I know you’re anxious to be off into the world after such a cloistered existence but going over the wall is not the answer.

In so many ways you’re an adult beyond your years and in many others, much younger than 16, so the outside world is going to eat you up, just like that big, bad wolf.

The tattered remains of your childhood may not be much of a comfort blanket but that does not mean you need to panic. Besides, it doesn’t matter whether you’re running towards or away, the terrors will always pursue you.

Better to stride out having planned your journey, more than one step at a time. Even better, seek fellow travellers instead of being so self-reliant and then falling by the wayside where only passing vagrants can help you along.

You’ll need much more sustenance before you set out – why don’t you sleep on it?

With love now and always


p.s. Did anyone ever tell you just how precious you are?


Somewhere in the world today – it is warm,

enough to need no coat or hat or boots.

Somewhere in the world – it is not raining

and somewhere in the world there is no storm.

Somewhere in the world – a plant makes new roots

and stretches – each day new height it’s gaining.

Somewhere in the world – hungry children crying

and somewhere else a fat man is complaining.

Somewhere in the world a wind is blowing

enough to bleed the precious crops away

Somewhere in the world a flood is flowing

and underneath the mud the crops are lying.

We all stretch out our hands for something more

But nowhere in the world is Shangri La.



The Collective Sigh

The collective sigh of the viewers

viewing the prodigy becoming genius

by understanding that this life is a game-

You have to play it if you want to win it.

The collective sigh of the gatherers

gathered to discuss about the world as such

by knowing that this world is a gaming arena

You have to stay in it if you want to have it your way.

1 Comment

The Small Petite Woman

A small petite woman walking in the darkness,

Passing by the lights of the city which she considers a mess.

She has left it all behind- the power, the glory,

She is tired of framing her own life’s story.

Frustrated with her acts that she so dubiously played,

She now walks alone, her hair no longer tied in a braid.

Losing the sense of this world, she wants to be who she really is,

She has said goodbye to her past with a gentle kiss.

She is just starting to accept her real self with no pain,

She is walking in the darkness with no strain.


My Soul Walks!

Incognito to the whole wide world,

My soul walks on the parched soil,

Looking for that drop of sacred nectar,

Looking for the path,

Searching for the mysterious ways,

That governs my soul.

How much different would it be?

Just a prickly sickly thought,

What if the world was that of, 

Harry Potter or even Percy Jackson?

What if it was all an adventure,

The games of life being played.

Well, how much different would it be?

Because in the present context as well,

There are the games,

Being played,

For life and never forget those,

Being played by life.

Just a simple plain thought,

What if the world becomes the same,

As the world of Potter or Jackson?

How much different would it be?

Now that is a lol pic! :D


Captain of My Own Destiny

Math Mark

Math Mark (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I have to admit that I’ve had a love/hate relationship with my brain for as long as I can remember. Our relationship began to have trouble when I was in the third grade. Evidently, I was unable to keep up with the class when it came to math, and I was dispatched, to my utter dismay and humiliation, to a mobile classroom on the outskirts of the school for an hour each day. While the rest of my class stayed put, I would have to scoop up my flagrantly different math text-book, exit the class with my cheeks burning, walk the long distance to the Special Ed building, all the while feeling stupid,  and meet a sugary sweet teacher who would talk to me like I was not only mathematically challenged, but also having trouble understanding the English language. The whole experience was completely appalling to me, and I decided that I’d work extra hard on my own so I could get out of the Special Education Math Class.

To me, my circumstances have always been something that I felt I could change, if I could just figure out a plan of action.

Evidently, I have always been a control freak.. :-)

My plan was to get better at math immediately. Back then, though, there were no home computers, much less the World Wide Web, so I was a tiny bit unsure about how to go about becoming a mathematical genius overnight. Luckily, my mother had a set of Encyclopedia Britannica‘s, and I began my quest right there. Everyday after school, I would begin my research into a quick, sure way to improve my brain’s performance.  Often, I would get distracted from my mission, running across something entirely unhelpful, but way more interesting.

And in time,  I found a little excerpt from an old research study that stated  how the brain worked in general, and had come to the conclusion that people who write with their left hands tended to have better mathematical abilities. Ah Ha! I thought.  All I needed to do, in my own estimation, was to teach myself to write with my left hand. This, I surmised, would “wake up” the right side of my brain, and I’d be a mathematical wiz…Good-bye, Special Ed Math. Hello, Popularity and Wealth. Actually, I didn’t really care about the popularity and wealth thing so much..just getting out of that humiliating class.

I had this gut feeling that I’d just stumbled on to a little known cure, and that soon, I’d leave my classmates in my mathematical dust…

So, I did exactly that. I practiced writing with my left hand for weeks, then months, and then years. To this day, I will occasionally write with it just to make sure I still can. I have so blended my left hand/right hand capabilities that I made myself somewhat ambidextrous.  :-)

But did it help my math abilities? I did catch up in math during my fourth grade year, and then later, in high school, I was able to hold my own, and to get good grades. I scored higher than average in math on my SAT’s, though I always find English grammar, literature, and the like easier to learn and understand, and those scores were higher than my math scores. I ended up working most of my life in accounting.

I have no idea if my little quest tricked my brain or not. Maybe, because I believed that it would make me smarter in math, it did. All I know is that I’ve learned that the brain is exceedingly magnificent and complicated, and we can train it to do what we want. Too cool!

One teacher that I admired and respected once told me that I was unusually logical, always breaking everything down to its simplest forms, which was actually a mathematical skill, and he thought it was unlikely that I was ever behind in math, but instead just wasn’t being taught in a method that I could learn from. Back then, in the 1970′s, the multiplication tables were taught by memorization, and he theorized that this method would not have been something I could have kept up with. A bunch of numbers memorized for reasons I couldn’t explain would not have been easy for me to retain. Instead, had the teachers shown me what exactly was actually being done when you multiply 2 by 2, I would have kept up just fine.

I remember thinking that I liked that teacher’s theory about my brain, but a tiny part of me wants to believe that in elementary school, I figured out a way to trick my brain into being smarter in math. :-)

– Bird


A Request!

Self pity- Another thing I’ve learnt in a blow

I am so inclined towards the negative road

I am not here to put a show

But what can I do when I’m the toad

Hilarious… by now you must know

My life- which is being so far a heavy load!

Oh! I’m tired… of course I’m tired by now, getting restrained by self-arising dramatic thoughts day after day.

Well, here’s another one-

In the world so large

I’m nothing but the void named life

Which will end in a boom

What effect will it leave behind?

Nothing… which means nothing

Will the Sun stop rising?

Or will the river stop flowing?

Whether air would stop blowing?

Or children would stop growing?

The life is nothing but a void aura

Which holds nothing

Which means nothing

Absolutely nothing

In the world so large.

Here I request other authors(particularly writers, not necessarily authors or whatsoever) to write something and anything regarding the significance of life in the world which should be in contrast to what I’ve written. I want some optimism and I think I will find it much in the posts of my fellow writers on 20 lines a day and elsewhere. 


Loneliness minimized

Across the continents people live in homes

Very much like mine but not in the least bit similar

Sunlight beaming through their wide open kitchens

Sipping coffee in the morning, sitting by the bright windows

Some searching for the last lost chance in the tattered purse

To bring home something to eat, a meal that has no time, nor name

Eventually someone comes along after a long time

Time that I spent working, running around, being lazy and talking to friends

All the time, feeling alone,

Never mind if there’s are twenty people with me or one

How have you been my friend?

It’s been a really long time since we last spoke

You’ve been doing things I see,

All by yourself you say?

I hope you wouldn’t feel too lonely

It all comes back in a rush,

Sunlight, walks beside the rivers in places that I never visited

A mere fragment of a bygone conversation

A piece of someone’s imagination

Breathes its warm promise into the cold corners of the mind

Friends who stay close, those who are far away

all of them talk and try to keep the warmth flowing

distances, and things are mere formalities

closeness is a matter of heart and thought

When exactly was I lonely?

It’s probably the most difficult thing to achieve

Because the whole wide world never left the room

In bits and pieces once, and then in unfathomable entirety.


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