Story of the leaf

Once upon a time 
there was a leaf,fresh and green.

During the monsoon
it explored rhythms
with every drop of rain.

At the end of rain
it became friends
with the wind
and started telling its story
in drenched words. 
As the wind flowed
it dried those words
off their moisture.

At one dry noon
the leaf just jumped off the branch
to explore a new story.

Upon the wind's insistence
it continued to narrate its half-told story.

As the story that
consists dry words
was altogether light,the leaf's fall was delayed
and the wind continued
to rock the leaf
till it was finally asleep.
,..

Story of the day when words got weaved

Once upon a time
there was a day
and many words
that were flying amidst
their meanings.

When the time
set up a loom
under the bright sky, 
words formed into an
eternal warp,
just to get weaved by 
the weft that was 
born out of a child.
,..

Story of the telephone

Once upon a time
there was a telephone
and it had only one complaint
that it had nothing
to talk
of its own
but everything else
to listen

,..

Story of the water bottle

Once upon a time
there was a water bottle.

In it
there was a sea 
that played with its own waves.

A very tiny insect
happened to taste a very tiny drop of the sea
that spilled whilst waving.

Being outside of the bottle, 
the insect started making a hole 
at the bottom.

It tasted few more drops
from the gushing sea
that flowed out.

Then as you all know, 
it just got washed away 
to non-existence.

The sea and the bottle
were still there
for a next round
of game
awaiting another
stupid insect

,..

Story of the torch light

Once upon a time
there was a torch light, 
being part of a bad joke.

It tried escaping
from that joke
to be part of a 
more benign one.

When it finally ended up
in a good joke
with no specific role,
 it said unto itself
'What's the fun?'

,..

Story of the scissors

Twice upon a time
there was a pair of scissors. 

One of its blades
existed in the past
and the other in the future.

Obviously, 
they both together could cut
only the present.

,..

Story of the tea cup

Once upon a time
(oops again!)
there was a tea cup
sitting in between
a zen master
and his disciple.

It was their first class.
The master filled the tea cup, 
asked the disciple to fill it further. 
He obliged
and the tea cup overflowed
into the silence that persisted.
The class was over.
 
It was their second class.
The master filled the tea cup
asked the disciple to fill it further.
He obliged, 
but then emptied the cup back into the kettle
and filled the cup. 
The silence still persisted. 
The class was over.

It was their third class.
The master filled the tea cup
asked the disciple to fill it further.
He obliged, 
he offered the tea to the master. 
Once the cup was empty, 
he filled it further. 
The silence still persisted
despite the burp sound from the master. 
The class was over.
 
It was their fourth class.
The master filled the tea cup
asked the disciple to fill it further.
He obliged, 
he drank the tea
and then filled the cup. 
No need to say that
the silence still persisted. 
The class was over.

It was their fifth class.
The master filled the tea cup
asked the disciple to fill it further. 
He obliged,
he offered the tea to the master. 
While the master was drinking, 
he snatched it away,
poured a bit back into the kettle, 
drank the remaining tea, 
threw the cup hard onto the floor
to break the cup and 
the silence that persisted.
 
Sitting in between 
the master and the disciple
the kettle told unto 
the broken tea cup
'Fucking intellectuals!
No more class'

,..