The Music And The Signs

Stars above tell their stories...
Though you don't lend them a ear,
They sing out in all their glory!
Stories of every smile and every tear.

As you walk your walk,
The wind caresses you by.
Carrying with her, every little rock,
Every little tale, of 'morrow...
And of yesteryears.

The paths that you trod...
Oh! So mechanically,
They look up at the sun and nod,
Crooning about the other path.
Urging you to choose the road,
Lying just around the corner.

The mountain that stands
Majestic and tall...
As you scale him, he smiles
And trembles, moving
Every boulder, big and small
Hoping you stumble,
Yet stand up and look about.

The stars, the wind,
The winding roads and the mountain,
All tell you the same story,
All sing out the same song.
Listen to them oh lonely one...
See the signs they work hard to show.
While all the time you curse them so
"Stop casting these dark shadows in my path!"

This One's For You...

With words in my head,
Laughter in your heart; 
I'm hoping you'd have read 
Everything that I've said...

In our lives we're similar 
As disparate as we may seem.
No matter who's greater,
It is with you that I most dream!

Romancing the Rain

Down the pavement, she skipped along

With a song in her head, a smile on her lips.

As large drops of heaven came slowly down,

She couldn’t help but gently sway her hips.

Barefoot and wild, she swayed away.

Heels in one hand, an ice-cream in the other;

Innocent as a child, lest your mind goes astray.

Never once did she look for cover.

A lick of the ice, an upward glance at the skies;

Memories of yesteryears - Her eyes brightly shone.

A flash of pain but love quickly rescues...

And keeps her no longer alone!

The ringing of a bell, the heaving of clouds above.

He opens the door, lets her in...

Towel in hand, eyes filled with love.

"I knew you'd need this" he said, with a grin;

And just a hint of envy 

At the heavens, that had caressed her hair

And driven her, Oh! so crazy.

But he knew this was just a short-lived love affair.

Inspired by and written for the "Romance In The Rains" contest conducted at Atta Galatta for the book launch of Nandita Bose's The Perfume of Promise.

Life Goes On. A Living Has To Be Made

He was all of 11 years old. His life consisted of playing till the sun went down, and then some more, going to school and ensuring that his parents were asked to visit the school at least once every month and apologise for his antics, asking for and getting all his favourite food and pretending to study when the date for his examination drew closer.

He was the youngest of three children and he knew his mother would do anything that he asked for. Life was good since the universe revolved around him. He left for school that morning rather late and was dropped off by his father after the constant pleas by his mother lest he miss his classes and worse get punished for being late.

His father, usually the epitome of silence told him "You don't realise what a comfortable life you have, son. Don't take things too easy because life has a way to jolt us and force us to learn lessons that we choose to ignore." He sat pretending to be sullen and sorry for his behaviour while he thought to himself that as long as his mother was around, he could do anything and no one in the world would be able to harm him.

That evening he was out playing later than usual. His sister came looking for him and he tried hiding from her for as long as he could. However he heard a certain desperation in her voice that he somehow couldn't ignore. Something in him urged him to get out of hiding and go to her. She didn't yell at him like she normally would and in fact didn't say a word. Just "Come home."

He didn't like the silence between as they walked home, her pushing her cycle while he walked by her side. He tried to break the silence with a "Is papa mad at me?"
No response.

Now, he was anxious and could feel the butterflies in his stomach. May be this was the day he would actually get a solid whacking like his older brother usually does. May be he should just run away. Mother will anyway find him and bring him back home safe. May be he should try to get his sister on his side with some inane story that he was studying with a few friends and so didn't realise the time. As his mind raced with multiple things that he could or should do to avoid what ever unpleasantness awaited him back home, they were closer home. His sister was still mum.

There was no car at the gate, so well at least his father wasn't home yet. He relaxed a bit. As he enters the door, he shouts out towards his mother "Mama, didi embarrassed me in front of all my friends. Why did she have to come and get me? Now all my friends think I am a little baby!"

To his surprise his mother didn't say a word. She sat silently on the easy chair by the window and stared out blankly into the darkness beyond the window.

The anxiousness and the butterflies in his stomach were back. Something was wrong for sure. His mother had never ignored him in his entire eleven years of existence. "What happened mama? Why aren't you talking to me?" No response.

After a few fleeting seconds that felt like an hour to him, his mother said almost in a barely audible whisper "Go change your clothes and wait in your room."

Something told him that he should just do what was asked off him. He sat in his room, having changed his clothes waiting impatiently but fearfully for he didn't know what to expect. His eyes fell on a can of mosquito repellent spray and he thought may be he should just drink it up and then they would rush him to the hospital and all will be forgotten. His mind wandered off with images he inspired by movies he had seen. An ambulance speeding to the nearest hospital with him inside. His parents telling him how sorry they were and that everything will be alright. His sister getting a shouting from his parents.

Suddenly, breaking his reverie his brother came in to the room and told him to stay at home with their sister. Mom and he will be back home late at night or only in the morning. He heard himself ask what was wrong and his voice was shaking. He didn't recognize his own voice... devoid of any arrogance or rudeness it sounded like someone else's altogether. Mother came in and hugged him... "Your papa is no more." she said and burst out crying. The eleven year old put his arm around his mother and said in a voice that was unnaturally calm and cold "That's OK mama. Life has a way to jolt us and force us to learn lessons that we choose to ignore."

No, I am Not Writing This Today

No, I am not writing this today
Come what may
I am jut not writing this today
Or any other day!

Some days words just don't flow out as easily as others.  Stories stay stuck in my head and refuse to be born. It's after a day like this that I don't sleep so well at night. The stories in my head make for delusional dreams. It's not a writer's block, no. It somehow is just not time yet for these stories to be told. On days like this, I just let the universe take control of my day and give my angels some more time to set things up right for me.

Saturday was a day like that. I began writing this post yesterday but somehow things were just not meant to be. We were to go away for the weekend to a place with water sports and loads of activities, but as it turned out the plan had to be cancelled at the last minute. I was to get myself a Vespa yesterday after months of deliberation and planning but as things turned out, I did buy it but didn't get the bike yet. Under such circumstances I would have been highly strung that things were not going as planned. However a few months back in a +Paulo Coelho book I read that if things are not going your way, stop and take a few moments to relax, your angels are working hard to set the right time and circumstances for something good to happen to you. Give your angels the time they need instead of making them work even more harder setting up obstacles to curb all the rushing around that you do.

So, NO, I couldn't have completed this post yesterday no matter how hard I tried just as I couldn't get away for the weekend break or get the bike yesterday. But here it is, with Blog-A-Prompt word NO, this sure was a tough post to complete. There's no beginning or end to this post, it just is.