Wind

Wind

1.	air in natural motion, as that moving horizontally at any velocity along the earth's surface: A gentle wind blew through the valley. High winds were forecast.

2.	a gale; storm; hurricane.

3.	any stream of air, as that produced by a bellows or fan.

4.	air that is blown or forced to produce a musical sound in singing or playing an instrument.

[ENTRIES NOW CLOSED]

Jyoti Basera (116)

WindBent bamboos, flapping hay roofs, swaying eucalyptus and shivering shade trees. Unaffected tea bushes, excited barking dogs, cows rushing home and little girls gathering younger babies under tin shelters. Fishes jumping out of the pond, the lawn littered with falling amaltas, Buri our old maid scrambling to bring in the laundry while Mangal rushes to bring the cows and hens under shelter.

Tea pluckers hurry to get their baskets to the factory, their red cotton mekhelas flapping. There is salty lal cha brewing for them at the compound- a tanker full of it. There is frantic activity and suddenly I hear the bungalow start!! It shudders violently and the tin roof cracks…the wind is here.

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Free Woman (48)

Hope, the fountain of life, sustains me

Dreams, desires, curiosity propel me

People, time, inexperience, deter me

But hope the fountain of life sustains me

Where do you come in O lord?

With the breeze of luck

And the wind of chance

You maneuver me towards my Fate

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GSV(115)

"first breath through the wind pipe and journey started,and then all the seasons of life of my life were just an allegory of time and wind in juxtaposition.i was kid and that kite,and those paper made rockets were my wings to flutter in breeze.and those revolutionary days when i even challenged to change the direction of whirlwind, i laugh over it now..haha..and you can't guess how charismatic was that scene when i first met your mother on that windy day..so lovely..and how i fought all big blows; poverty,discrimination,corruption;like a warrior...still i feel i missed something...i dont know..i dont know what".;.Prakash took his last breath while talking to his son....wind chime was still tinkling in room..

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Purvi Ashar (85)

Let me stand right here
in the wings of this vehement wind
To be blown away
To be severed this way...

To be deafened by its sound
to be belittled by its power..

A self holding a self
Against this dust
Against this force

I shall fill the violent swirl
in my eye,
Sore my soul,
Ransack my space..

Let me stand right here
in the wings of this vehement wind...

After it's death
I shall bask in the calm
The beautiful calm that remains...

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Truth Dude (136)

the coleridge-bohemian

in the broken house
a stifled silence greeted him.
long stretches of blur
it's a life!

smoke up,
drink up,
live to die.

the growing sense of unease,
numbed down.

a functional dystopia
a life lived in a hurry
to get to the end.

to make another beginning
or so he thought.

the stifled silence screamed.

nothing moved.

bob said,
the answers were blowing in the wind.

nothing moved.

when you didn't ask the questions,
the answers didn't matter.

numbness
vegetative
insipid
a life to live.

and nothing moves.

day after day, day after day

we struck no breadth no motion,

as idle as a painted ship

on a painted ocean

water, water everywhere

and all the boards did shrink

water, water everywhere

nor any drop to drink

a wry smile plays.

tomorrow is another day.

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Richa Gupta(111)

The wind carries more than we can see

A little bit of this and a little bit of that

And it carries what makes you and me

Telling stories of men from the times gone by

Of great heroes, loves and wars

Of dying people yet a new born's cry

It carries the many secrets of lovers

Whispered words of forbidden trysts

Gently caressing it flutters and hovers

It carries within it the wisdom of old

Passing in a rustle or in a deadly blast

It can be life's warmth or death's cold

The wind hides more than we can know

But with all this weight of the world it carries

I wonder how it ever manages to blow!!

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Mandappa KC (105)

Would you let go? Would you quit your job?

Would you throw it all?

Would you give up all your money?

Just to hear the wind blow!

If I could promise that we would fly

We would sail away

Would you give up everything else you own

Just to hear the wind blow

Blue skies and misty mountain highs

Green drives and butterflies

Would you come away with me

Just to hear the wind blow

Chasing dreams, storms and blimey whims

Have it all the way you want

But you'd have to let go of your grown up ways

Just to hear the wind blow

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Mickey the Monkey (120)

"Wind some cloth dipped in oil over his tail" roared the Mighty King "and set it on fire". The demon brought a piece of cloth and started to wind over the Monkeys tail. The Monkey closed his eyes and smiled. His tail started to grow. "Bring more clothes", shouted the king. Demons kept winding cloths and his tail kept growing, till all the cloth of the city was wound over his tail. Someone then lit his tail. The Monkey jumped to the top of the palace. He invoked the Wind God, his father. Soon strong wind started to blow from all directions, and the fire spread like jungle fire. The City of Gold was reduced to ash in no time.

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Hummingnerd (76)

Like...

the rustling autumn leaves,
a flying kite broken from its strings,
crooked sails of broken fleets,
wandering among the waters
twisting and turning
within its own ways,
whistling, howling, rainy wind...

Took you away.

and you gladly went
leaving behind lingers of your scent,
I wish I could compete,
but, I live on the ground,
and I'm weak;
all I can do is, speak
And hope...

The wind would blow you my way, again !

Santonu (136)

When Nimish opened the window a cloudy still evening welcomed him. The fall has begun; the trees were all colored with yellow, red and green. Nimish came out from the house for a walk. Sumana was still sleeping. Nimish took a deep breath looking at her and then closed the door behind, the innocence had touched him. While walking on the streets he wondered its merely days before they are separated and smiled. Did he feel pain? He looked at the dark sky and felt the chilled droplets piercing his face. The wind started blowing as he closed his eyes only to find the face of sleeping Sumana on the bed, Nimish turned back towards home...the red maple leaves the clouds and the diminishing faith started flying with the wind. Its not going to rain today.

Dok Saab (120)

The air was still. Not a leaf moved. Sitting under the fig tree, he fidgeted with the dry twigs. Every few minutes he went to the field. Looking towards the western sky, he dropped a handful of earth. But there was no wind to blow away the dirt. Disappointed and sad, he went back to sit under the fig tree, waiting for the wind to blow. "Nikhil, come back, its getting dark", his mother shouted. He looked at the bright yellow and red kite lying on the roots of the fig tree, crisp and virgin, the spool of thread, untouched. Desperately he looked at the fig tree for any sign of wind. The air was still. Not a leaf moved.

Konfessioner Singh (120)

Have you heard clair de lune?

No, but I have felt it.

Like the wind?

He paused, surprised, but I continued…

… It has the same dip… the same rustle.

We were in love that day. That hour maybe, not that day. Our favourites were common, we wanted Rome, creeks, ever young green meadows with daisies and chestnut horses. The apple trees watched us and the sun smiled, sending warmth with wafts of early winter wind. And my cheek was red already…

But the young are never forever together. We bound across continents, sail coloured seas and sing new songs, sometimes remembering whom we have loved and what we have seen.

Yes, just like the wind indeed. Look at me.

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Sarang Mahajan (119)

When I was a kid, there lived a skinny dog and her puppy behind our house. The puppy was much like me, careless and playful… until the day a dog-van left the colony caging its anxiously silent mother. With her gone, the puppy changed. It shrank daily, and it hardly ever played with me. I wished someone took it along.

Then one day came a storm, which I was told blew tin-roofs and dropped them on the children. I slept listening to the wind howling outside, thinking and later dreaming of the puppy. In the morning, when I went outside, it wasn’t there anymore.

The wind, which had outwardly seemed so terrible, had pitied it and taken it along.

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