One of those awfully sunny afternoons, while sitting jobless at my desk and trying to look like working hard and browsing for nonsense double hard, the word Haiku and a website containing tiny, little poems popped-up in a very inexplicable way, which can only be explained in the cyber world as…
ok, stop. Move back a little in your chair and read that again. What does it look like to you? Apart from making no sense whatsoever?
This is a sentence which completely and nonchalantly abuses the first rule of Haiku viz, Keep it short sissy!
The second rule is about syllables and how only a sweet 17 of them form the perfect little Haiku, which i conveniently and a little guiltily, skip.
Let’s just make rest of the rules on the run , shall we? like a newly started affair (aah imagination…. Haiku approves…).
The first few Haikus will be disastrous. no doubt. Mine is in the
“sleep crawls up till eyelids
I dream of a spider
trapped in his own web”
kinda place now. Clearly brilliant dustbin material.
So I read some from the masters themselves. Like this one:
Four Haiku by Matsuo Basho
A hill without a name
Veiled in morning mist.
The beginning of autumn:
Sea and emerald paddy
Both the same green.
The winds of autumn
Blow: yet still green
The chestnut husks.
A flash of lightning:
Into the gloom
Goes the heron’s cry.
They bring alive such vivid images and long forgotten memories of the golden hues of ripe banana leaves, the wind howling around inside an empty house, cranes in a very pregnant paddy field after a heavy night of thunder-storm…
I think after all, I’ll just keep hitting it till the spider gets out of his own web 🙂