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Sravani Singampalli – Sometimes half is beautiful

Profile Sravani Singampalli Live Encounters Poetry & Writing March 2018

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Sometimes half is beautiful, poems by Sravani Singampalli

Sravani Singampalli is a published writer and poet from India. She writes all forms of poetry. She is presently pursuing Doctor of Pharmacy at JNTU KAKINADA University in Andhra Pradesh, India. She received a commendable mention in Wingword short story prize and some of her works have been shortlisted by Wordweavers.in. Her works have been published by The Poet Community, Poems and Poetry, Journal of Kindness website, Spillwords press, Delhi Poetry Slam, Galaktika Poetike ‘ATUNIS’ and forthcoming on Leaves of Ink, Scarlet Leaf Review, Setu bilingual journal, Criterion journal and many other international anthologies. Apart from writing she also enjoys singing and painting.


Epitome of hope

When we think of the colour green
We all imagine the flora around us.
Those fresh emerald leaves
Catch our attention.
We sketch the sceneries
Of the tall and bushy trees
In our minds with
Rich green foliage and
Imagine ourselves sitting
And staring at them in awe.
But do we imagine
Those brown wilted leaves
When we think of the colour brown?
Many of us just
Can’t resist thinking about chocolates
Isn’t it?
This shows that man is optimistic
We never think of loss
We never want to.

Unaware

An intense cyclone has hit a city
Heavy downpours, floods and
Loss of lives
All come in bonus.
Trees have fallen down and
Birds have lost their home.
Somewhere in another city
My friend prays for the safety
Of her relatives
After watching the news
On the television and
I stare at her from my window
Unaware of the danger
Unaware of the loss
Unaware of those lost birds.
I drink a glass of warm milk
Mixed with my favourite chocolate syrup
And go to bed as usual.
In the morning
As I open my eyes here
Many have closed their eyes there forever.
I complain of being unlucky
After my mother wakes me up so early
Unaware of my fate
Unaware of how fortunate I am.

Sometimes half is beautiful

Beholding those two poor children
Sharing a half loaf of bread
I remember those happy moments
Of sharing half of my snacks
With my little sister and
The special drink my mom
Used to make which tasted
Half sweet and half salty.
I still remember the smile
On my mother’s face
When I wore a traditional half-saree
For the very first time
Half blue and half pink in colour.
Now I share these cherished moments
With my better-half
Living in a beautiful half-timbered house
Looking at the half-faded light.
To be more precise, the twilight scenery
With the sun half into the water
A swirl of baby pink and purple
Transfigured the sky
The belt of Venus
Stole my heart
Beholding this Elysian scenery
And the last vestiges
Of the setting sun
I can say half is not always desperate
Sometimes half is beautiful.

Insensitivity

My father gifted me a new dress
On my twelfth birthday.
I still remember the shades of
Blue and baby pink on it.
He bought me my favourite
Chocolate cake and lots of other gifts.
These were the last vestiges of
My happy childhood.

I knew he was an alcoholic
But I never thought
He would drink up
All the money and our bright future!
I have seen my innocent mother
Weeping her vermilion heart out
And my insane alcoholic father
Nothing less than a monster!
Every new day was a curse for me
Watching my mother’s painful tears
Clothes, papers and utensils
Scattered everywhere
I only had hatred for my father.

That one tiny drop of respect,
Love, joy and happiness
Finally vanished the day
I saw my mother’s body
Lying lifeless at a corner
With ripped clothes
Scratches all over her body
And her grazed knee.

She was wrestled to the ground
By my selfish and insensitive father.
He hit my mother
With a glass bottle
Snatched those few notes
Which she hid for my picnic
And left her to die
Satisfying his hunger for alcohol.
Yes! My father killed my mother
He killed my only happiness
He swallowed my angel!
A squeezing pain seared
Through my chest
I almost died.
I didn’t say a single word
But I was still happy
With this onerous heartache
Atleast my mother got freedom
Freedom from a monster!

 

© Sravani Singampalli