For this post, I sat down for almost two days thinking of something to write, but words would not just come out! I was so frustrated and close to giving up when this poem came out about my current situation

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Writers Block

My mind is a blank

Words stop from forming at a snap

I have a severe case of writer’s block!

My mind stuck between a hard place and a rock.

Ideas keep flitting about,

But none seem to root and sprout.

I keep reading hoping for a spark of inspiration

But nothing comes to mind, resulting in loads of mental perspiration

My mind is a blank, as a sheet of paper

Words stuck inside, waiting to come out…

As I look out of my window,

I see the world ebb and flow.

From early in the morning to late at night,

Rushing and moving as if in a fight.

People rushing to work, students going to school,

Not looking, not feeling, just going through the motions.

I also see the old and weary, moving slowly,

As they reach their twilight years, waiting and watching, looking and seeing.

The young and the old, I see them from my window,

As I watch the world ebb and flow….

This poem was inspired by the incredibly noisy neighbourhood I live in Mumbai. In my last trip, I realised, compared to Singapore, my home was super noisy and it took me a couple of days to push that noise to the back, but it was quite a difficult few days. Then coming back to Singapore, the silence also took some time to get used to!

The Sounds of Home

The sounds start early,

As the birds begin to wake up in the tree;

The ringing of the bell of the milkman,

The shouts of the newspaper man,

This is how we wake-up in good old Mumbai.

Then the real noisy business of the day starts their cries,

The children coming to the school next door,

Their voices eager and ready to soar,

The college students who congregate in the lane below;

Whiling their time between classes, ebb and flow.

Then of course, who can forget,

The noise of vehicles, that drive past like a jet,

This not including the general cacophony of sounds;

Like the cawing crows and vendors in the background,

These are the sounds that define my neighbourhood,

These are the sounds of my childhood,

All day, from morning to night, there is a steady stream of competing sounds,

Till they fade away from your consciousness as the noise resounds.

It’s only when you come back after a while,

You realise that your beloved city, your loved isle,

Is actually quite noisy, but you care not a tome,

You love it anyway, coz, these are the sounds of home!

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I sit among the cacophony of sounds
Yet alone, as if out of bounds

People around me, happy and gay
But in my mind, are shades of grey

The happiness that I see around me
Makes me want to move away and flee

A weight on my mind, bring to mind memories blind
Those which are twined to become confined

I yearn for the moments when I can be alone
Away from everything, to get into the zone

To be alone, to be by myself
For that’s when I can hear myself think
To decide on next steps, to bring me from the brink

I want, nay need the space to be free
To ponder, to feel and to brood
Me and my solitude…