Wednesday, January 01, 2014

A New Dawn. New Words. Just For Today.

As I sit early this Wednesday morning,
The stories in my head find their own links,
And together they write themselves.
And I tell you, it's not so much writing
As it is breaking my very own jinx.

As I pour myself a cup of tea,
Warm a chocolate cupcake too,
These stories are dead,
The moment they are born.
It's true!

Today as it is every day, is special,
Not because it is a new day;
Nor because it is a new year;
Because it is my connection
With the universe... now, here.
Tells me not to go astray
Instead to just say
What I've always wanted to say!

This is a fine new day.
Dunno if it will be sunny,
Or may be the clouds will have their way...
This moment, now, here,
Is all I have at present
And with this I am content,
With this I shall stay content...

Sunday, December 08, 2013

What happened to Sita?

A Work of Fiction


She had always wanted a daughter but now… as she reminisced about her life, she decided to change what she wanted.

She came from a family where girls were brought up with respect, were educated and despite most other kingdoms from around, were taught to speak their mind and be part of decisions being made in the family.

She was a miracle, they said, when she came in to her father’s house. She was a blessing, they said. She was the apple of her father’s eyes, they said. They gave her the status of a Goddess. As she grew older, her father sat her down and pragmatic as ever had said “You my lovely daughter who goes by the name of Sita, Maithili, Vaidehi and Jana­ki, do not let these names forget who you are. Deep inside, you are the one who chose to be saved, so you can make a change. Our land is filled with people who despise women, who don’t hesitate to kill little baby girls, even their own daughters, in the desperate attempt to bear sons. You my little one decided to push through the earth and hold my hand. You are destined to reach out to the souls of people, now and for centuries to come, to wake them from their deep slumber and help break away from distinguishing children even before they are born. You, the one with the gentlest of gentle souls, will guide people to be human first before they give themselves or their children any tags.”

She was too young to understand what her loving father had said on that sunny afternoon but today, as she was on the brink of motherhood, she understood it all. Irony had brought her in to this family, a family known far and wide for being just and right, yet a family that had encouraged all means to justify one end; that of having a male heir so their family name may continue to prosper.

Her husband, though a gentle soul himself, was born only because his sister gave her life for him and his brothers. His sister was never spoken about. No stories were told about her great sacrifice. She had drifted into the unknown – unspoken and forgotten.

“I will bear you sons. Sons who will remain unmarried, because no mother’s daughters will ever want to marry them and become part of this family. It breaks my heart as a mother to know that my sons will never know the joy of a woman in their lives, neither their mother nor a wife or a sister. But this will end the cycle here and now. You, my great husband will be known as a legend, as mythology. But alas! Your family name will not continue because the family that does not respect its daughters will only bring sadness and negativity around it. People will need to forget that this family was ever real. They will be content in the belief that yours was a great story and you a great ruler, a great king, a God even.”


And so she bore two sons and left them in their father’s care as she jumped into a crevice caused by a great earthquake… silently forgiving her parents who showed her the path to the underground the day she was born.

Monday, November 18, 2013

A Moment of Nostalgia

As the drums beat,
The jal tarang sends a silent note;
In her world, the sound of the drum
Is all she wants to feel.

Her soul stirs, as the crescendo
Of the drums reaches her heart.
A drop of tear, she sheds,
Into the pool of emotions.

She remembers the beat
From many moons ago...
When the sun had risen daily,
Casting his rays on her,
Shimmering on her skin;
When innocence prevailed.
She longed for that comfort...
The comfort of not knowing.

Today, she is wiser.
Today, she is stronger.
Today, she is happy.
Today, she is loved.
Yet...
A drop of tear, she sheds,
Into the pool of emotions.
A sigh passes her lips,
As she gathers herself up
For life... again.

Friday, October 04, 2013

Honest Open Smiles

Can it be this tough?
Wearing masks all day long;
Passing by the universe.
Every day. Every night.

Needs. Wants. Desires.
In that order please...
Make mine with
A sprinkling of soul dust.

Rains feeding streams,
Leaves leaving trees,
Cups upturned in sinks,
Music. Laughter. Life.

Let the cookie crumble.
These cookie cutters 
Were made all wrong.
Honest open smiles,
It isn't this tough!

Firewood gathered,
Hunting done,
The roasting begins!
On this Friday noon,
Dream up your dreams.
It ain't tough at all...

Thursday, August 29, 2013

Humdrum

Humdrum, a word I love...
It paints a picture of buildings and nests
Of pathways and forests.
Why it plants this tune in my mind,
I can't say.

On this Thursday eve...
As twilight threatens to disorient the mind,
Humdrum, just plain humdrum.
Why this world seems all right,
I can't say.


There was an error in this gadget