Born of nature 
Humans have a lot in common 
With weathers and calamities
There’s a type every human
Can be tucked into
Because some people 
Are like tornadoes
Arriving without notice
With violent outbursts 
And leaving destruction 
In their wake

And some people
Are like promising clouds
That disappoint
That rob you of sunshine
And leave you thirsting for rain

Some people
Some people are walking calamities
Earthquakes to be precise
The quiet ripples and rumbles that unshelter you
That make you forget
The familiarity of home

Because people 
Are volcanic eruptions
Snowing ash and carpeting skies
They’re islands where flowers do not grow
Where life cannot sustain

But there are also rains
That quench the parched earth
And revive the dying

There are days that reach through the walls
And pull you gently out into an embrace

There are days
There are people
That fall from the heavens like snowflakes
Each unique
Like art
Each cold
Like reality
Each melting 
At touch 

Are the emotions 
So tangled in themselves
As a result of winds somersaulting
In the wedding of a summer storm 
Marrying the thunder

Because people 
Harbour the same darkness
The night yawns into the world
As it sleeps under its watchful eye

And because people
Emit the same light
The stars stutter 
Even when storms
Black out the skies 


Passing by

Shrilly small notes dance off your flute

Rolling like mist on a winter morning

Enveloping treetops, greeting the nests

Asleep, unknown, of what is dawning


The woods they whisper back your melody

Ghosts of it chase the silence

The soft wind calls your earthly name

In this hour of predawn, whistling by

The constellations and you, flicker the same


As the dew-donned grass kisses your feet

And an owl hoots you a desolate goodbye

Your orphaned ballads take root in the forest

Your silent heartbeats thrumming through

Making it by what the earth remembers you




— Pratty

At peace

“You beautiful, beautiful rain. Thanks for letting me breathe under your fluffy wings, and get drenched in your soul-soothing showers.

I haven’t felt this happy, and liberated since the day I gave myself a haircut.”

— My Facebook status yesterday.

I swear, I cannot put into words what an incredible day it was yesterday. It was an hour from sunset, sis and I, we were sitting on our terrace and a very light rain started pouring, we didn’t move. We high-fived each other, laughed, sat in silence feeling the raindrops caress our soul, and smiled toward the sky.

Peace at its utmost.

It started pelting harder and sis went to stand by the terrace door, sheltered from the intensifying rain. Can’t blame her, anything too cold results in throat pain.

I stayed under the open sky, the sun was about to set somewhere behind the clouds. The clouds gazed back, swirling in and out of innumerous recognizable shapes. I kept pointing and yelling over the downpour what I saw – a little princess riding a horse, a mid-leap Cocker Spaniel, a stingray and a school of fishes, a rodeo, and so on.

I hummed to my own tune, swayed, danced, urged my sister to step out and dance with me, held out my arms to the wind – embraced it in my mind. It was all like something from a lovely dream, like being in a poem someone’s writing.

It felt as if all my sorrows had been washed away. For some reason these four words kept repeating themselves in my head like a whisper – “The moment is now.” The moment for what, I know not. Maybe to live in the moment. But what I do know is that I am now at peace.

Me. Posing. For sis.

I hope everyone’s been having a wonderful week as well!

Much love,



The Mother wails ,
The Mother flails.
The world in her cloudy azure womb;
Stubbornly encasing itself in doom.
It burns in her, making her weep,
The Mother, the dear Mother, maddened in grief.
None would quench these fires, tears none that rain,
The Mother’s helplessness shall be her sung-of shame.
Enraged she whips! Fiery bolting whips;
Her wrath a fury, an unending storm that grips.
The sun shines, giving the Mother warmth to calm,
She repents, she regrets, her child she tried to harm.
One so beautiful, a child she bore,
One like which she’ll birth nevermore.
A child she loved, a child she cared and always provided for.
It grew, she taught it living, but it betrayed her all the same
For it grew fonder of material, feeding its unquenchable hunger for name.
It digs her like maggots through rotten flesh,
Her signs, her warnings, still hanging about, fresh.
She created waterfalls for it to play in,
Seas and oceans to sail through, sails swaying.
But it’s swatting them away,
Melting and flooding the way.
The way that taught it surviving,
Now it poisons all, how conniving.
Some peek at stars and proudly proclaim,
The Mother will die, and the child’s to blame.
“The Mother will die, and she will die soon,
Be it a million years from now, or a turn of moon.”


Gaia the mother and personification of Earth.

— Praty


Your unfurled vermillion petals, the blooms ablaze

The sun parts with a weary goodbye

You sigh in the faint whispers trailing through the woods

Entranced, your arms swaying to the motion,

Harmonizing with the inhabitants of this lively place

The damp moss around your feet tickling the fragrant air

You are but a few feet taller, than your admirer that is me

Your light droopy arms overhead, brushing against my hair

While some tire at the growing weight of your fruits

From bulbous jade to the newborn pearls of scarlet

Tangled about my fingers, in an affectionate embrace

I wrap my arms around your amassing vines

Tying some in loose knots, like gnarled swings for little birds

Giggling, unknotting, chattering away the child residing within

I speak of distant mountains from my wanderlust-ridden mind

I speak of friends I once had, from my hidden solitary corners

I speak of people I love but remain fate-forbidden to meet

You listen; you listen, like a wizened man old

You listen; you listen, like a wisdom-clad crone

You listen like no one ever has, to me

You listen to my inner voice, half as deep buried as your roots

You listen, windlessly rocking in response

Your ancient ties to the speaking wisdom trees of lore

Entice my curiosity, one that I quieted

A friend you are, who I grew up with, our friendship queer

One being a sapling, one a toddler, and a language of silence

Now look at you! Your slender waist, winding upward in grace!

Now look at you! Your bark, branches, and leaves of strength!

Now look at you! Bearing fruits sweeter than honey, redder than blood.

Now look at you, standing proud

When rain beats and hacks, you grow but prettier

Stronger with each day

When winds cut, bending you into the sloshing mud

You flop for a day, gathering might

Being the fairest maiden when the sun next shines

You’ve been the harp to my silent notes

The living pillar I sit against and reflect,

The sometimes-thorny build I hold on to unflinchingly

One day perhaps we both will wilt when our seasons come

“Will I be shamed for seeking solace from a tree than people?

And being triumphant at that?” I think, I ask

You say naught, I hum tunelessly

A rhythm of the winds, unsynchronized and soothing

With unspoken words, of you and I.




Okay, so, a freeverse poem. Wrote one after ages, and it feels so good. I’d like to explain some things about the poem but since I kinda sorta maybe definitely suck at explaining stuff, I looked up a few pictures to do the bit for me. I’m glad I could find some that fit the descriptions.

Also because nowhere did I mention it’s about a pomegranate tree. 😀

Pomegranate collage


‘newborn pearls of scarlet’, ‘unfurled vermillion petals’,

‘bulbous jade’, ‘fruits sweeter than honey, redder than blood’.


— Praty


They say there’s something about sunset. Depends on the person’s perspective as to whether they find it depressing, peaceful, or a bringer of pure melancholy.

I say there’s something silhouette-y about the ambience of dusk. I’d go into finer details of philosophy, but nah. Sometimes it’s better to enjoy something just how it appears. Floating on the surface than scuba diving into it and missing a spectacular moment above.

Sonset1 final


Oh, and wow. This is my 50th post. 😀

— Praty

The sunshine after a rain


SQUIRREL. I mean, finally. I had to zoom so much, and run around trying to follow its movements. And all I could get was this one click. To me it’s kinda precious. 🙂 I love squirrels. 😀

Squirrel by allthingszeudon_wordpress

Another zoomed shot of a rather small creature.

dragon by pratyusha - allthingszeudon.wordpress

Birdie. 😀

bird by Pratyusha - allthingszeudon.wordpress

I had posted a similar pic once, the difference is that now a Peepal/Bo-Tree has sprouted there. o.O

Peepal by Pratyusha - allthingszeudon.wordpress

P.S: I won’t be watermarking my stuff as Zeudon anymore… Pseudonyms are fun, but sometimes we lose ourselves behind them.

— Pratty

An onslaught of hammerings

Head throbs with a rhythm,

Music from 80’s fills the room.

Melody impending collision,

With the throb, exploding soon.


Beads of sweat, quivering cold feet,

A throbbing head, and shiver.

An onslaught of hammerings,

The pain, the gasps, and blinding fever.


Being gripped by suffocation,

These walls are such a petty torment.

All I demand is a bit of fresh air,

Ones that don’t enter my confinement.




Inspired from my sudden headache. Sigh. Anyway, the remnants of last night’s storm are stirring up some cool wind, I think I should go and enjoy that fresh air instead of gluing my eyes to the computer. Will write the next poems with pen and paper for a while instead. Haha, bliss.


— Pratty

As I lay here on grass . . .

On the grass here as I lay

Listening to birds sing and sway

Clouds streaked with purple and red

Shaped bizarre, like a clown’s head


Smiling, I hum a tune I hadn’t before known

A sweet melody, in me it felt sown

I sketch the skittering squirrels in my mind

Black clouds cover the sky, echoing with grinds


Wind plays my hair around my face, then dust

The first raindrops sweeten my lips, and earth’s crust

The divine feeling, I feel myself melting

I lay here on grass, as the rain starts pelting




Aaaand with this my 30-poems-in-15-days NaPoWriMo challenge completes! I’ll probably just write a post about how great it feels. xD


— Pratty

A drop and an embodiment

I am a drop of water

I can save a life, quench your thirst

I am an embodiment of water

Not to you, but to nature I belong first


I am a drop of water

Can make differences where cures are concerned

I am an embodiment of water

I relieve your pain, any area that’s burned


I am a drop of water

Made of molecules, carrying lives

I am an embodiment of water

Where a dolphin freely no longer dives


I am a drop of water

Pure, when falling from heavens

I am an embodiment of water

Now considered as acid rains


I am a drop of water

Adding colour to your dry world

I am an embodiment of water

Of me are born new leaves, vines curled


I am a drop of water

Not residing in vast deserts, yet

I am an embodiment of water

Can make you delusionally fret


I am a drop of water

Vulnerable like you, can vaporize

I am an embodiment of water

I can freeze you to death, pulverize


I am a drop of water

In me I can contain a universe

I am an embodiment of water

You’re letting me go waste, reverse.


I am a drop of water

I have given you life

I am an embodiment of water

You unleashed a curse, now I’m a monster

Drowning your selfish life