Madhu Goteti
Bio
The thrums in the strums and the delights in the humdrum of life have always fascinated me.
It’s that feast of reason and flow of soul; in all that I see and all that I shall behold!
I am an avid lover of art and philosophy!
Stories (120)
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Hoisted Strong…She soldiers on!
Anything but a knock on the door … Hena was at the verge of leaving the world behind! Hena had withdrawn from the world. The pain with which she had lived for such a long time suddenly seemed vanishing. The child in her soul was waking to a strange situation and she felt dismayed. Hena had practically forgotten that she was a victim of a warfare. She tried to remember when she had been admitted into the hospital. There were people scampering around her and a few had rescued her from the rubble. And all that was necessary as patients had to be immediately moved in emergency. Hena was one among them. The hospital was bombed. All that she remembered was that people were frantically being lifted from the hospital premises and she was left in her bed as she couldn’t move. She called out to a fellow at her bedside but he threw his hands up in despair. With anticipation and frustration stuck upon face, Hena decided to stay on . After a breath she felt her soul drifting into oblivion. All around her screams continued yet her soul was undeniably moving on into a mysterious zone. Where, she didn't know, and Why, she wasn’t sure. But pouncing upon make beliefs, she witnessed her soul floating in an alchemy of shattered schemes. She was long gone! In any case her identity was gradually fading. In one word, she was dying after a long spell of sickness. Months of treatment had gotten her totally transformed. Cell by cell her body had degenerated. But oddly enough, she was transcending all norms and forms to face “herself,” with all certainty. And now, something else seemed to have taken over her soul. A drastic change was finding its way into her fealty feels. It had taken a long time for her to arrive at that point in time. The journey and the feel of it was way too long. And yes, the way of it was all unbound. And for the most closest course (ever seen nearest to be concurred —) was this open door 🚪 untimely drawn. And as an all out show, that door was ajar with the grace of illumining lights exuding thro’ it. Through and thro’ that bright ephemeral sight —something inviting was ushering her to move on. She stepped up and soon realized that it was a mirage. It kept moving and found herself extending over unending grounds. It was as if a veil over her eyes had been removed. The only thing that kept her company were these verses from her 📔 diaries which had written in the past . For some reason she found those words reverberating through her senses. “O! Look! There’s a mirage fading into distance as it gently grows, Receding in time, it’s that evanescence, vanishing thro’ illusory glows ! But as evinced, the path takes on its own journey, even if—the dingy-darkly, daintily floats Forthwith, there’s also gazing, both in and out, frantic as in loafing, yet -partying along those dungeon roads Adjacent, there’s a place where the golden gardens glow But underneath its torpor, that ever in bare earth, glides by so… O! Look above not below! There’s cumulus radiance, painted to perfection; ( like long enough to conceal horizon,)as above so below. Like long horizons casted to progress slow It’s a long voyage frankly of those— founding of which, ventures one unto the other doors, A threshold put on to beaming strands , Fetch it, to know it, for what it is , before any other thought captures it’s soul! O! There’s cumulus covering ‘horizons, equating to stealth, as it swiftly poses to be exposed Afoot , Along comes the turn , around the ditch, casting that imagery as in transposed! “ Such and so, held over those lines, Hena felt all about, all around. Sometimes she wondered whether it was a day’s routine moving forward into the endless or had she already crossed over. It felt like the eternity’s tireless run was slipping her into oblivion. And as the live long hours had finally passed along, a slumber reigned over on and on, rallying her as completely unfound. And, right on those surreptitious grounds …she dwelled on ! Her mind was thinking and repeating everything over and again. And in this, all that came thro’ were memories from past. And yet again… With hope stuck upon face—she got reminded of the last words from a book lying next to her bed. It was a book written by Ludwig Bemelmans, 1939 “Two straight lines they broke their bread and brushed their teeth and went to bed .” Then on, deep unto a far off place, she remained uncharted in time all “alone.” She was slipping into a deep sleep. Papers from her reading table blew up into tatters and a dusty calm enveloped the air. A passing bomber had dropped its arsenal. Within moments Hena found herself walking through those dwellings and forging anon . She didn’t realize what had exactly happened. The debris had scattered all around. Suddenly a draft of cool breeze drifted askance —only to come back, swirling to be her own; Wandering through those outer spaces Hena found herself feeling light and quite liberated. Beside her she felt aliens were knocked on a door as if casting strange shadows 🚪 Yet, in all this she was finally reaching the innermost strength on her own! There, her soul was so agog and so Akon, Strayed far and wide , much before it was all finally done —all done, she took an agonal breath. She gasped and all of a sudden, a flood of reassurance came tripping home as if after running days affront. Thusly, the ebb and flow kept her moving on and on ; and on and along And as her life throb of aeons had scattered its severed self, her soul burst 💥 all its bonds and merged into nothingness. And , like a poignant story ending to echo—her entity had long gone , long gone! Now…. Her frozen tears were free to melt into the streams of unwinding turns. Her entity had merged with the elements of earth, flowing as a wave traversing thro’ thousands of myriadic spuns. Then quickened to speeds, she thought she had arrived home. And there… a course, about five course long headed straight —unto a voyage. It was tracking no sojourn. And there—coming off as the first ray of hope, and passing thro’ ‘wildernesses she appeared and disappeared as glimmers spreading across the sky. Thus far —her creator had taken chances to lead her on—into that new future , quite unknown. Technically, she was being subjected to an evolution perhaps 🤔 of a wondrous fortitude, all so delightfully spun around the timed-machine, mining along. And supposedly, that was to make —a better version of her, like a quiet making of a star flickering in the deep oceanic skies, all at once But, within she felt like a shoddy wick glimmering in the embers of satanic verses inlaid upon —those infernal grounds. In there, she felt held in an unknown realm of a fleeting scheme with many “Ifs and buts ,” stapled to many parameters echoing: move this way ; not there. All that grace casted upon her soul. In a way it was like being whisked and swiftly switched unto angles of bottomless pits ,wherein she was whizzing past her own sensing fields with an awareness that made her alternatively feel —lost and found. In ways, her identity was disappearing and all that was happening at nautical speeds—like running interstellar marathons. And of course, she was brutally waking, quaking and subsequently, dying in the midst of a planar spiel. That is to say, she was encroaching an unchartered territory, beyond. Those were deep dark skies where everything was extending endlessly —on and on. Yes, it wasn’t any familiar environment. She was staged in the open universe, swiftly bound over streaks of light, and travelled thro’ distant galaxies, moving towards planetary fields anon. Her entity was flowing through the stars ⭐️ and for sure, those stars were no equal to the planet that she had just left behind. © ✍️ Madhu Goteti, October 8th, 2025
By Madhu Goteti 3 months ago in Fiction
Hearts Content
From strangest creatures we desire relief That thereby consummates to make beliefs Mocking a tune that I once heard reach In time’s own learning—that hides its grief Those blundered errs, either this or that, becoming a deed Tempered by long patience, turning to inner leads Then building towards —high on dares—end of speech…. Thyself thy foe, and to thy own sorrows, thy shall appease! Now comes yonder —uncared along —for ‘naïveté to seek Th’t one ☝️ customary—long dwelling,(to know ponder,) rooted in deep Sacred—It comes ‘from thee, full girdled, in seek As reasons in season, revealing misty deep Shall I despair such to a passing feat Or fit predicaments to undying pleas A baroness as siren comes to seek For a thought in silence is restless to reach © ✍️ Madhu Goteti, October 3rd, 2025
By Madhu Goteti 3 months ago in Poets
An Invisible Route, Unearthed !
O! Look! There’s a mirage fading into distance as it perpetually grows, For here comes evanescence, receding in illusive glows ! O! Look! As evinced, a path takes on its own road, even if, the darkly, dingy, dangerously floats A roadmap to prophetic insight —for those valid timeframes to gradually unfold; Herein, the adjusted delays, as reasons in season, timelessly scaffold ! Forthwith, there’s also gazing, both in and out, progressing as though —loafing bold, Yet far afar there’s whimsy parting, and on it, the clemency of nature is brought up close! Yes, all along those diurnal roads! Adjacent, there’s a place where the golden gardens glow And underneath its torpor, ever in endeavor, that ephemeral earth, glides into heaven’s hold Fetch it, to know it, for what it is , before any other captures it’s pristine soul ! O! Look above not below in spirit ! There’s cumulus radiance, painted to perfection, founding of which, many have ventured, unto other thresholds There, where the earth and the skies by ways of a zillionth, unite fourfold, It’s that divinity beaming bright, right over the horizons, so seemingly transposed ! © ✍️ Madhu Goteti, September 17th,2025
By Madhu Goteti 4 months ago in Poets
Of that, or this, so declared!
If I were to exist ,by far, in no other than the interim and seen as myself, then, here’s “I,” more or less, as that ONE ☝️—preceding, deeply moving and proceeding thro’ that temporal zone, fully possessed, to know more. It’s about the things that make me dream 💭 and in that waking dream think about the victories and the challenges as I experience them as a day dream put off , or at most, from twilight dims. And as for the enquirers this entry could chronicle aa a poetic forage which directly or indirectly tends to draw out the precious life. Also, in the center of all and the object of all is this indescribable consciousness —a heirloom upon which one can curiously review everything in the light of their own intentions. Meaning —how our souls love to receive the dawn -dazzle of life, casting away backward glances, only to find itself adapting to ( in most degrees, growing out of it) new changes. Yes, I am talking about the new world of awakenings received with joy and faith. In these lines I have lain myself unfolding into others, quite changed of my own “ego,” identity and projected it towards fellow humanity. In that sense, consider the glows and glories of this illustrious poetic form depicting “PRECIOUS life,” which belongs to every real thing. O! Precious Life! Ah! fleeting hope, flittering fire Is thou oafish as a quenchless briar Thirsty, perhaps, for long, so mired Yet, in every nature spread so to inspire That you must behold that entire desire- Within which renews hope thro' heartless quagmire As grating gropes over gurgling gyres Ebbing in flow as some embodied empire Unto that, bellying long, those flown off spires As clustered congeries over cloistered choirs O! Must you lie bare upon death beds so expired Seemingly dropping a thousand dirges over deathly pyres But, for the spirited souls thickened by dire It's all an illusion which they pledge not to ever acquire! For the flesh so camped in rubies and lodged sapphires When post -personified, it waves its final flags as in an esquire; Finally bidding adieus to everything that coexists to equally transpire ! O Precious Life ! Co-concurring off the hook, as though on a timely spire... How upon innocence you gently conspire As faith so ardent rolls its' own ardent hope —so dire Dear Reader, Know this, for sure, without the limiting surface, forced less or more into depths —here is a special demand made upon you. As you participate in this poetic journey with me please affirm that you shall unleash your imaginative (unreal,) capacities. In this way a continuous presence but now fixed in time, must be re-imagined in a new , continuous present. Thusly the consciousness of existence from real to unreal passes in time, constructing a continuity out of the discontinuity created by time as we are passing the life. By doing so the reader shall feel the grace such so: she mused, therefore ,I am .” And by perceiving so —give yourself a little time to be or not to be, fully here. Lie over — ever in a round —encircling that— beginning and the end, and then merge with it, consciously aware. It’s the “ middle ,” as far as it grows and that —which must really show! A State of being, decidedly centered, yet nakedly bare ! Interim : It’s an enigma which fills in the “ present,” without knowing what’s going to come next. Just like the concurrence of the real to the unreal, one moment rolls into the next with no clue of what’s going to happen next. In time or otherwise, it all appears,as though, one is fully prepared for the future. But unexpectedly here comes a space. A void—perhaps, where cold fits in equally, as well; duly stitched, fully dressed, appearing suddenly out of nowhere. Then again, as the Heedless—interim, comes and goes, fleetingly, For in it bears precious life, all hoarded, in all thy cares Of that calm —lain over nothingness ….duly spared, and everywhere, Wave upon wave in silence it keeps nothingness up in the air And of that inevitable, ever present to take on its final dare Much as the spirit gets flown, much over that eternal, beyond compare Hey there, here’s a place where the interim meets to get all mixed up with hope residing already out there O Come along! O full phantom hope —draw close , pour thy prayers around us — as if it must now be cheerily spared As unborn deeds imagined as above over troubled despair O fresh giver —like the running river flowing through Yea are beyond compare! Concluding thoughts: O ! Heavenly counsel ! Were these ☝️ those verses—the very ablutions, received to get us out to nowhere …. A void ! Dear Reader, you decide !
By Madhu Goteti 4 months ago in Fiction
Bald Awareness
Autobiography of a Spiritualist found as a vagabond in an AI field That’s me, for sure , as the future of Awakening unfolds! I was born different. I possessed a cherubic face which at first glance did not initiate me well into the society. My bonnie appearance never revealed anything exactly. Alongside, my operative vocals (since birth) proved equally adroit in raising riots. Yet, if and when, directly conveyed, one could consider me as a people person, attempting to see things presciently, and conceivably, all of it more predictably. Consequently, I managed to convince fiercest frenzy especially among people who tried to understand me fully. The stint of divine itch started very early in life. I was enrolled into uncontrollable soul stirring meditation 🧘 since childhood. Yet reacting profusely to strong light was a decree 📜 ( not degree,) passed on to me inter-generationally as well as cross-culturally. Honestly all that kept me on toes, always. Staking and energetically claiming my influence on the society, I am herewith lending my visionary eyes 👀. Yes, distinctly quirky—my eyes, always capture the inquisitive humanity with a deviation quite the opposite of its gaze. Following is a piece of my mind projecting a matter from my deliberative diaries which dared to peek 🫣 into the futuristic world. So until I am in myself again here’s how I drive myself into future. Last summer I visited an AI spiritual retreat. The place looked perfect, but something seemed amiss. Happy in the anticipation of what it might reveal, I once again bolted myself in the imaginative fleets of AI. A moment that felt just a little ethereal, too sublime yet too distant. AI world seemed illusive, as though plunging into ever-wakeful open, unreal deceits. Everything was artificial with no spec of originality intact in it. It was a conception bathed in mind's steed and as to the visible, it seemed illumined in some abysmal streets. There, in those realms , a remembrance struck up all in heaps, oozing out of safety, as though temptations were being beseeched. Here’s a peek into its feel of feels. An Imagined Anime in that AI world : A Lack-a-daisy! A Make belief! A guide to relinquish I ( Ego,) and rekindle the spirit: My O My! Just imagine, You and I becoming just a subject matter like a figment of imagination in whatever’s being contrived. Now there, in those dreamy ai realms of bliss, wouldn’t your soul feel cloistered in some stillness deep. Herein, supernal speech feeble at feet, a sprawling commotion wanders valiantly yet, it still appears magically 🪄 unannounced like this -- Lo! Where do you go, so hurriedly. A time or two like a phantasmic voice refreshed in sleep my entity seems led into eternity as though enquiring timelessness. In it I sought what was yet to be fully conceived. Strange,nah! So held among many queries and with no moment to skip, many facets of my persona sprang up in that multi-versed climate. Herein, momentarily I felt as if all the attention deficits of the world (hyperactively,) were curiously played peekaboo amidst those virtual retreats. In that simulation, an augury c’d prop up and proclaim its dead certainty to every forthcoming phenomena. And that happened! So much so, it virtually donned its own mask , stretching its vestiges to authorize a state of predisposition with the offing of a subconscious conceit. And so began a mesmerism. It was a sort of foretelling moving unexpectedly through the realms of generative intelligence ! A process that sounded something like this: In the dim darkness a rebellion shall strike, shutting off consciousness to show off its spite! Way wards when the wind clamors up in such a riot, fallen asleep will be all life, so trite. 😲😮😧 And between those vicissitudes of contrasting brain-strikes; there will be no rhyme nor any reason lingering valiantly (in vain,)outside. But marching along such a consanguineous posterity meanwhile, yea might come across tidings bringing forth tremulous decoys. Thereafter, like some salutations exchanged between this shore and those skies it all felt like mind over matter, reigning in as a otherworldly ally. To that added phantasm wizardry, by means of whatsoever, it felt like all was conferring upon some virtuous vaporous field. Where was the real “I “ in it ? That was the mystery which I myself was trying to understand. Out there, the skies seemed clear, the sun was out, and from a distance, everything looked perfect. But I wasn’t in it. Not really! As an imagery in the midst of a quartet singing emerged with my spirit feeling long stretched over sighs, An endless unfolding imbued over my identity— as someone baffled by disguise! 🥸 ☝️ O look! That was my plight! In there, the mystic in me looked into those meanderings and saw a matrix of co-gelling coordinates. Probably out there, I was hearing solemn sweet nothings, the rights of which some others could also have draw upon. And thereafter feeling fully trivial for having connected to those borrowed ideas and thoughts , I felt a strong internal resistance. A rebellion because I wasn’t feeling myself. My mind was not ready to accept such a transformation which was stripping me off of my real life. Perhaps many others could have felt otherwise. But in that AI world , we were all ascending, as though to encompass the world and speak of it as though we had finally ARRIVED! So in doings, and coming to be perused best in BELIEF this is how I visualize the future of generative AI. Aghast! Out from nowhere everything might grow up to exhibit itself into a phenomenon that —such so—might exhibit accretion, consecration and extrication—all three falling short of honors, while the course of history would get modified —left, right and center. That ☝️ might be the natural grace of futuristic AI thinking. Where is this habitation? Is this a sorcery? This isn't fanciful insight nor dreaming..It might be the future of generative AI. Where am I and What might those feels be like — you may wonder? Thinking again, I was just trying to give a good jolt to the presaging omen of futuristic world amidst AI. I give this airy notion a local habitation and fancifully called it as an Awakening! A Descend into the world of AI : a new awakening! A make belief! Yes , it will all happens, gradually. Being upon a supposition, as the quasi in a mystic shall gently bespeak and a transient calm shall rest serenely over the high of highs with mindfulness tagged to the seven seas. Yet, within those untrodden pathways, heading inward bound, a spiritual serenity shall envisage strong upon humanity to seek its treat. Thereafter when the eternal slumbers shall jump up and open up on weary lids; a pure bliss shall enlighten every earthly grief.( Supposedly) Herein echoes shall walk on by to yonder in strides, And indecipherable as blather, a gentle thought 💭 might also begin to glide. For a light thus lit c’d charm its' own wise and amid those ambers all mirth shall get pushed aside. Then as dimly thro' misty vapors a new breed of awakened souls might begin to rise, Like specters of grace with incense curls swirling up into the skies, For what —now—seems distant, a new era would finally arrive. And scattered thro’ ephemeral, I w’d see future generations in sight. Would it seem like another dream —just arrived! Yes, a dream,where one thing as delightfully obtuse, and the other floating as an amorphously acute; a stream thought would come to sight! And while searching through mysteries held as narratives on trails of thoughts and thawing in collative solvents of thoughtful miens, we shall all survive. And meaning to be identical to oneself , our senses too shall awaken. And enduring such interlocking moments of time, I would attempt to get off such a frenzied flight, every now and then. All these years living so, the fleeting course of time and the nature of its workings have had an elusive effect on me. For some reason this has made be feel far away from the real me. And now, at the cusp of generative AI , I wonder 💭 where will I be. Until I am in myself again! © « Madhu Goteti August 29th, 2025
By Madhu Goteti 5 months ago in Fiction
Favonian Feels
Favonian winds were blowing this way Beyond the realms of time and space Those fealty feels flown in such a hastiest haste For sweet love to summon all it's grace! And all that I took as my own and you marked it as yours, anyways, Be it complete or be it more -as though-in free spirited shape O my, what foamy twilight dresses in silvering shades Much as much as quivers in bowers, rustling thro' glades O! Look! An eternal spring, unceasingly, blooms thro’ quietly unfazed Just as —ever in and ever for—that everlasting phase! Onwards then —that breeze—ushers to every lone hearts' voided space Laying softly upon me, you and others equally, And from which there’s no real escape… Ah! What else c’d be spoken that which wasn’t better told, For it’s about feelings fetched thro’ nature's gale Not for nothing, yet for everything, Embodying pure love in its’ warmest embrace Thereupon, what comes to be bidden, and not hidden in temporal caves Encased, full on -naïveté, marking it's own original face Be thee—joy spilling or a pulse beckoning, thro’ and thro’, as in a musical grace Shining ✨ forth— as sheer brightness, illuming that inner space Again, what else c’d be said in its heavenly praise, For it’s first perceived like a familiar memory banking on its own game, With equal profits accrued under debtors's and creditor's accounted name As equally proportioned as similarly same! © « Madhu Goteti Sept 20, 2021
By Madhu Goteti 5 months ago in Poets
Ⱥղ ටʍղìҍմʂ օƒ Ͳհօմցհէʂ
With withered leaves I weave my boat and seemingly float it on the vast I know not how to swim, 'coz they know not how to cast 𝔖𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔢 1 👆 Either ways the roaring torrents Rip me to tatters and tear me apart And crackling underneath those rustling waters, It’s that nature's heartstring held to part 𝔖𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔢 2 👆 And to the boat that clamors in a myriad… Borne o'er currents, groping over many idle hours 𝔖𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔢 3👆 It’s a journey taken so deep and stretched a bit too far 𝔖𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔢 4 👆 Here comes Farewell —heretofore a succession departs Moving unto a faraway place, somewhere afar, 𝔖𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔢 5👆 Yes adrift to find a galore hewn, strewn in the myriad at par.. …𝔖𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔢 6👆 Where seven seas and seven hills meet the heaven —whispering unto those stars And as to that divine something, Marking anew —as nothing remains; a void so begotten, dwelling as a vanishing spar 𝔖𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔢 7👆 To that, let there be a reviving hope, keeping that undying faith, reveling in the ascending power 𝔖𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔢 8👆 Alas! Thereby, as an orienting generalization, The Almighty shall deliver yea up to that par Showering blessings and all his graces to lift you, me, and my lot towards that endearing heart—𝔖𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔢 9👆 Signing off 🙏 July 18th, 2021 © Madhu Goteti
By Madhu Goteti 5 months ago in Poets
Power Outage
My blind sight brought me to a “spare-me -your -kindness,”plight. It was summer of 2020 and a surge in COVID 🦠 deaths were on the rise. Little did I premonish nor realize that our family was being launched 🚀 into a darkness with a strange kindov anatomic-caricatural- travesty looming over our heads. O my gosh! The peculiarities emerged rather stark while we faced blackouts due to power outages. Put together night fall was equally frightening! An eerie calm surrounded the neighborhood. It felt, as if , some random wickedness had been tossed around and ‘twas taking over our home 🏡! Not to mention, our feelings were equally getting trapped over unending horrors of some odd-old sights and we found ourselves braving thro’ that spooky night! Out of nowhere a barn owl 🦉 perched on our window 🪟 and kept staring at us without a blink of an eye. All of sudden a fearful stormy rain came with a terrible force. Everything in the garden blew things around . A little bird was too far from its nest to get in. Lightening struck and the bird was blown off in the wind. About a few seconds later it landed half dead on our front porch. Without any delay we took our torches out and headed our to rescue the bird The fallen bird barely wriggled and its wings hung limp. It had taken a great deal of pain. For a second, beaming through our flashlights it 👀 looked at us —as though—asking for help. As we lay looking at the little one , trying to nurse it to recovery, another strange thing was witnessed by us. Some five birds as victims of poor weather lay there breathless. It felt like a mass burial site. It was more like a ghoulish crematorium tripping beside us in the streets. Well, so it seemed while my angled vision played peek-a- boo 🫣with strangeness lingering throughout that night .. Unknowingly, our family crept to each other’s fright ! And, onto that pitch darkness , topping it all , was this pin drop silence in the neighborhood. This was all building up to a scene of demonic possession. To the gross eye 👁 it was a miasma dipping in a mysterious guise ! I literally, for once, thought 💭 that night had come to a halt —somewhere amidst some ice 🧊age, and all the darkness’s were making their doomsday call. All around, the gushing winds started making running screams and it all felt ominous —like a sure guide towards other worldly flight. Additionally, the nightmarish effects were painting even more sepulchral sights,as if, booking our sacrilege in the quiet. Sooner or later we were to find ourselves succumbing to such a plight. Apparently the transformer powering our home had tripped. A thunderstorm blew the transformer and short circuiting led to a fire. Safety risks extended beyond immediate vicinity but somehow the rain put off the fire. We decided to stay put through the night —admittedly, not to face any more obscurity in the dark. From dawn to bedtime that mid summer night was like a dreamy homestead nightmare. Throughput it was—more so, like zombies 👻 heading for their feasts, cursing us to stage war -parties as they followed us around like swathe upon trails. And anywhere—within 2inches to 💯 miles I was practically ready for anything! With what looked like a pandemic 😷 —full on a strike —we were almost at the verge of being hitch hiked as emissaries while I continued to squint through the corners of my eyes 👀! Somewhere, In the middle of the night I started sneezing and my heavy head started hurting very badly. Full blown symptoms of COVID were appearing. Then I was horrified to notice every member of my family down with high fever. In just a few moments everything had turned topsy- turvy. True, it would have made no difference to nobody if that night our family had died —working against the hopeless odds— thunderstorms, transformer flares, power outage or exhaustion due to covid conditions. Further to that, along came, the limitless nervousness as I moved boldly for the creeping hands to get me from behind. It was my pet Caroo 🐈. He was trying to snuggle next to me. After that, I did not turn my head —this side nor that side. Instead, I cocked the torch under my arm as the battery in it was about to die. I know it was a mad sort of thing to do but, what were we to do when strange darkness was horribly keeping us in the quiet ! At the same time, a cold gush of air was trapping us into this mystical cloud-land with the winds blowing their own howly conceits of a very severe kind! Through and through , the shadows and shapeshifting hues💡 in the flashlight 🔦 were making us draw closer than a tight-knitted tribe. And mostly, as a matter right, we were chanting higher rituals in full spirit—much before the night got visible in the wee bits of light cracking thro’ the dawn. There were courtesy fireflies spangling all around in our backyard. It felt like an occulted delight. Tight pressed, we lay on our pillows as these ceremonial parades melted away from sights. After that, wonder of wonders this log 🪵 wood cutting scene began. Probably that was when I must have drifted, momentarily, into REM sleeps ! It was a dream! A time or two, visibly, a form in shadow suddenly appeared, as though, a spirited beam of light was shattering my brain 🧠, giving me a sense of what I could have be missing in that situation : a delusion ! Out there, in those wild dreams now came in a foresty feel , an act of me unbecomingly empty in the mind —so much so, out of nowhere, I found a 🪚 chainsaw stitched unto my frays, a growing 🎃 jack-o-lanterns glowing with a foot in form , through the night. And thusly, with my imaginations on overdrive, 9 times out of 10, we knocked each other out, thinking something mysterious was lurking within sight! So it was a total Fright Night ! And then , in the morn , it was all about the sun 🌞 rise, coming duly in order for such strangeness to subside! Still living gently and spreading this earnest wish ... never say die! Then when Covid ruins had spread unchecked for several days we finally got ourselves cured. “May the devil 👿 prowl and whoop up its hymns out of sight .. O! that act of wading through the dark, uninformed, a pretty blindly random act , for something of which we did not realize, should be kept socially distanced for miles.” I tell you, those daunting bearings, not much visible, yet one learns to understand only when one lives in the wild only to be shut in groves away from life. Away you go, stealthy Covid🥷 coming at us in a disguise 🥸 . You weren’t much in terms of reassurance, even when you tried to work out theories on our minds. To do well ,now, means , to cut the chilling gloom you tried creating on our insides .. O ! waverly Covid hitting us on all sides, we WILL survive ! #genuflexingtothegroundinreverenceandworshiptoallthegodlinessinreach P.S : May those growls with howls and prowls menacing life remain destroyed ! © ✍️ Madhu Goteti, July 31st, 2025
By Madhu Goteti 5 months ago in Fiction
Omnibus of Thoughts 💭
An Omnibus of Thoughts With withered leaves I weave my boat and seemingly float it on the vast I know not how to swim, 'coz they know not how to cast Either ways the roaring torrents Rip me to tatters and tear me apart And crackling underneath those rustling waters, It’s that nature's heartstring held to part And to the boat that clamors in such a myriad… Borne o'er currents, groping over many idle hours It’s a journey taken so deep and stretched too far For there must be a faraway place wherein—somewhere afar, The seas meet heavens whispering unto those stars And as to the something of that divine—Marking anew —over remains, so begotten as subpar Let that reviving hope keep that undying faith to revel in ascending power Alas! Here comes Almighty, delivering me up to the par Showering blessings and all graces to lift me and my lot in vernal showers July 18th, 2021 © Madhu Goteti
By Madhu Goteti 6 months ago in Poets
