If dreams could dream they would dream of silver wings,
they would dip into a rainbow and hop on saturn rings.
If dreams could touch they would reach up for the stars,
they would grab a million sun rays and break into a dance.
If dreams could sing they would snatch a melody,
from a thunder and a raindrop, and weave a symphony.
If dreams could hear, they would stop my a silent moon,
they would scoop up unheard stories, served on a silver spoon.
But dreams are probably blind,they smell all things bright,
high high high they fly, at the end there is light.
but they fail to see the cloud lurking in the sky,
they hit the the dark and mighty and they shatter and they die....
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Tiny little raindrops settled comfortably on my outstretched hand
like a magic wand, the touch of the glistening hand, brought a smile on my face.
As I clutched the slippery moment lest it wear away like sand,
I realised that you had trailed far behind, failing to keep pace.
When on a solitary evening the friendly breeze brushed by,
Despite her busy schedule she kissed away a tear,
she dropped a dollop of hope under the azure sky
I looked around, to find you nowhere near.
Towards the uncomplicated, freed from the tangles of complications,
I plunged into a life well sorted, a life without you,
and as I ushered in a new beginning, of dreams and aspirations,
I found myself entangled in the presence of your absence, I found you.........
Friday, May 22, 2009
I wish I could introduce myself, but i do not have a name. Not yet. Lets put it this way, I traverse (not literally) through a path that would at the final bend transport me to the world of 'somebody' from the one of 'nobody. This journey you see is pretty interesting. It has its ups and downs. There are peaceful days when all I do is sleep, cocooned in warmth and love. Yet peace like all good things in life is short-lived and I encounter days when I am blanketed in screams, shouts, howls and noises of all sorts and kinds.
This reminds me of an incident that took place last week. I was getting ready for my afternoon siesta when i feel a sudden jolt! 'Its an earthquake!' I tell myself and try and relax. Then a second jolt, and a third! The wall around me is about to collapse I think. I pray for my dear life.
I thank Almighty God for keeping me alive. Alas little did i realise that this silence was like one before a storm. Some storm that was! In my last life I heard the english teacher say that there are moments, the intensity of which cannot be captured in words. Oh that didnt make much sense did it? I completely forgot to tell you about my erudite last-life.
I shared a bed with the english teacher. Are you thinking............? Dirty minds, dirty minds! Let me be more specific. In my last life I lived under the english teacher's bed. I opened my eyes to 'cat', 'mat' and 'rat'. In my last life I had a name too....... they called me cockroach! I loved the teacher, a pretty old lady. She would disseminate knowledge to the students who visited her house and I would gulp the knowledge down my throat. No matter how much i loved her, I can't help sharing a little secret with you. I thought she was, you know, I wouldn't say mad,but undoubtedly in possession of a not so sound mind.For some strange reason that would be in its full bloom the moment i would think of meeting her and thanking her for all her goodness. She would jump on the chair, throw things at me. Shriek and pull her clothes! I would forgive her each time. The poor sweet thing was getting old after all. Yet its her sinility and my magnanimous nature which cost me my dear life. One afternoon when in my 99th attempt to greet her I appeared in front of her, amidst her ussual antics, she sprayed something like water on me! I don't know what that water like thing did to me, but i was actually dead in no time!!! Yet when i came to this life I realised I had retained most of what I had learnt back then, under the bed.
Now where was I in this life? Oh yes the intense moment when the storm hit me and lo and behold! I was upside down. I cannot explain in words how bad that feeling is. As I clutched on to the walls in my inverted posture, my heart screamed 'blistering barnacles' (one named Captain Haddock who would visit the english teacher's house often, would use the phrase whenever he seemed angry!). The storm subsided slowly but that did'nt change my position. These days all my time and energy goes in getting used to being upside down!
So I thought I knew all there was to know in english. Shakespeare and Keats, Woodsworth and Austen, I knew them all. ' I am god's gift to humanity' feeling however dissipated when such words would trickle down my room that i had never heard before. Words such as b-i-t-c-h, f-u-c-k 0-f-f, w-h-o-r-e etc. The other day I heard one such unheard word, a word that had an important feel to it in a weird sort of way. It was one of those noisy, not so peaceful days. I had finally accustomed myself to sleep with my head down. But who on earth lets me sleep! People upstairs are shouting their lungs out and amidst the hullabaloo I catch scattered words and phrases such as 'test done'- 'girl child'- 'dont want' and a word that intrigued me the most. Wonder what that means. It sounded something like
(This is a take on domestic violence and destuction of female foetuses, evils that should be wiped out from face of the earth sooner than later.)
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
A hundred thousand million people in the world do not write letters anymore and like them nor do I. I had a cell phone only in college. I did have a computer at home sans internet connection. The world of emails, chats, orkut, facebook etc did not enter my bedroom till the third year of college. I belonged to the simple world of letters prior to the technological intrusion. Yes communication was difficult, yet simple. The people who really mattered were not easily accessible and therefore I would make an extra effort to reach out to them. Communication then was not only on a tangible level, there was much more to it, reaching out was also telepathetic due to lack of adequate means. To most this probably makes no sense but I am sure there are some who would know what I am saying. Being nostalgic is almost like brushing teeth for me and therefore having been transported to the era of letters I couldnt help but write one, still without a paper and a pen, nevertheless a letter......
Talking to you is not irregular, we have managed to maintain a frequency, an almost rhythmic pattern of 'hello how are yous.' I know the weather in your state or country, I know you are 'fine' I know how busy you are. I know....... and that's remarkable I am sure considering the bad signals or a weak connection that can easily snap the one thread that binds us. I know........ as much as I would know about anybody. Through this letter however I strive to unearth from the decadence of time and space- you as I know you or rather once did. I know what the weather is like....its raining. But I dont know if a part of you still cries when it rains, mine does still. I know you are ok, I dont know if you are just hanging on or really happy. I know you are busy, but I dont know how your day starts. Do you stll crib having to wake up or are you grown up and all.... are you still late for almost everything in life? You still cry at night when everyone is asleep? I am a big girl now. I take care of myself.... except when I dont feel like :) That however does not mean I will stop bugging you. That also does not mean i stopped staring at the sky looking for faces in the clouds, nor does it mean i dont open the cream biscuits to first lick the cream and then eat the biscuit.
I was taught in school that a letter has to have three paragraphs and this was almost a forced one only to show respect to my english teachers who had worked hard to teach me how to pronounce ghost as 'goust.' Wish my maths teacher had concentrated as much on me and I on her.anyways thats a different story....... Writing a letter after very many years is not an easy task i figured. Words fail me in my second paragraph and I have a third one left!
So here I come to it! Third paragraph is more of give my love to so and so. Reply soon, take care etc. But I take the liberty to tell you that I miss being a part of the time and place to which you belong today. I am scared too at times that life will engulf us in our individual folds. In its blinding lights, even if we reach out for each other we may miss each other by inches. And when that happens I will write you a letter just like the one here.
Saturday, May 2, 2009
I thought i would write a poem today...yet the words seem dishevelled in my head. So doing what I do best- scribble. Its one of those days when life pulls you down and you let go because you are exhausted and do not want to fight to come up. Its one of those days when you bury your tears deep deep deep, keep it under lock and key and yet a drop manages an escapade. Its one of those days when memories trample you.
I know tomorrow will not be today.......tomorrow I will rise again, walk again, laugh again. Tomorrow I will fight back- life, the tears, memories........
Yet today has carved a niche for itself amidst the many tomorrows.....
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
To my first music teacher.........
You filled many a evenings with music and laughter and our small house in Vizag opened up a whole new world for me. I was only 8 or 9, and many a season has passed since then. Your 'tima' (thats what you called me) is a big girl now. But your 'Coffee houser shei adda' still rings in my ears. You are no more. But the music in me tells me you are around. I never got a chance to tell you then but Topon kaku I love you and I miss you...........
To Bhai (My thakurda)
Are you looking at me right now trying to read what I am writing, counting my spelling mistakes as you used to once. Hopefully that has improved though I could'nt do much about my bad handwriting Bhai. I know you thought I would'nt ever pass with it but I did!
No one calls me Shonai anymore. No one brings packets of 'Little Hearts' for me. But that has not stopped me from waking you up in the middle of the night, complaining or crying about my life. That has not stopped me from pleading, begging, threatening sometimes before my Maths exams or my results so that you tell God that I sail through it. I shared with you my excitement of my first job and my first salary. I always looked up to you as my role model. You are the only hero in your Shonai's life.........
Dadu's didibhai. Its been 5 years and I still cannot grasp your sudden departure. Seems like a nightmare that will break with the break of dawn. Yet that never happens. There were many a times when I would be irritated with your questions about my whereabouts. If I didnt come back home on time you would be worried and I would complain. But I miss it today and I miss you. Sorry for all the trouble you have had to take for me and thank you for being a part of my life.......
Poila boishakh- the beginning of a new year was the end of an episode. You were undoubtedly the thakuma of 'thakumar jhuli'. The love and compassion that you harboured not only for your near and dear ones, but for the humanity in general, your strength to bind a family in a single thread, your positive attitude towards life, is an example for me and many others. You have taken with you the story of 'naraputhi', but you have left behind a legacy........
Sunday, April 12, 2009
(I had written this poem for a friend on the 24th of May, 2008. However I couldnt come up with a title which deems fit for the poem. Any suggestion therefore is most welcome)
Smiles, hills, a playground, friends,
And then you fade away………………
A blue mist engulfs the years in between……..
As it clears, the morning shines
And the bright lights blind my eyes,
Dewdrops of the remnant smiles are sprinkled all around
Amidst the gift-wrapped sunrays, its you my friend I found………