Wednesday, December 29, 2010
a hollow bit of a melancholic smile.
When the world kisses her beauty,
she craves seclusion.
Draped in glamour,
so much so
she hides the simple.
Not one knows,
Plain may lie behind pretty endeavors.
Into her heart,
is a box of troubles.
Joy lies in a chest within,
engulfed in crushed remains of twisted twigs.
Fingers caught in a mouse trap,
freedom will come to believe,
playing on with miracles mean.
Petrifying every evil,
fiercely winding on,
the ugly beauty.
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
The mosaic of leaves reveal two little heads, rays glance down along the bark to the bottom of the tree. Playing frivolously with each other, are two little boys. Grabbing fists of dried grass in their hands and tossing it playfully at each other. Their grandmother is standing at a distance on the grass still wet from the morning dew.
Standing there she admires her two little grandsons as her eyes turn moist. A soft content smile spreads across her face and the kind wrinkles at the edge of her eyes speak of undying love for the little ones. She sets her bag of rags on the bench and takes a seat. The kids pause their game and glance longingly at the park gate for a second and continue playing again.
In the meanwhile, outside the park, there are two men jogging towards the park gate. Their car parked in the background on the lonely tar road. On the deserted road outside the park, there is no sign of man or machine. Dried winter leaves rattle past the cold cement pavements. The time travels back to the two joggers, clad in their morning sportswear. Suddenly, one of them stops jogging and quickly turns back to the car. Inside the car he is searching for something very hastily. His forehead decorated by beads of sweat, in spite of the morning’s chill. A sign of an anxiety of some unknown sort, his lips form a tense line; his eyes mirror a hint of fear constantly searching the car. All of a sudden his face muscles relax. His eyes twinkle like that of a child who has found a fascinating toy. The tense of his lips turn into a relieved curve. Quickly he grabs what he wanted so badly, bangs the car door behind him and returns to his friend. As they jog back, there is a small polythene bag in his hand.
Travelling along the road facing the two gentlemen jogging towards the park gate is a dried winter leaf. The creaking sound of a huge archaic gate disturbs the silence of the road still quite deserted, but for the sweeper. The sweeper is equipped with a huge broom, sweeping away dry golden leaves that habituated the pavements; one of those that witches fly on in fairytales.
The two men enter the park gate. One of the boys is popping his head from behind the back of the tree. His face is lit by an innocent, cherubic smile. There is an expectant gleam in his eyes. He nudges his brother with his elbow and quickly the two of them run towards the gate.
The two men are saying something but the little boys just nod. One of the little boys shyly smiles at the gentlemen, but his eyes frequently glance at the polythene bag still swinging in the gentleman’s hand.
The man kindly gives the bag to the boy as the boy takes it happily but coyly. The two kids smile at each other and the grandmother sitting at the bench joins her hands and smiles in gratitude. The gentlemen leave the park and travel back to their cars after their jog.
At the entrance door of a big office is a name plate designated with nature of business. Inside at a table, a gentleman dressed in a tie and a business suit is sitting talking over the phone, discussing a business deal.
Suddenly, he stops talking. His forehead reveals sharp wrinkles; his face turns a tinge of red. He hangs up and holds his head in his hands as if regretting something, drowned in sorrow.
In grayscale, his mind travels back to images of the park and the cherubic faces of two little kids. A silent tear escapes his eyes as he imagines the park being sold and the trees being chopped down, the grass being scraped off cruelly only to build walls of cement. How could he do that? Somewhere deep in his heart there will be emptiness. There will be poison of guilt that will never let his mind rest in peace, guilt that he destroyed a home. Destroyed a place where everlasting joy, frivolous playing and hay fights of little innocent angles thrived. The place where there are memories of joy and kindness and castles of aspirations. How will he overcome this? Will he be able to live with this? Will he be able to forgive himself if he did let the park and the little world of the kids get destroyed?
The whole dilemma sort of created a whirlpool in his mind. A whirlpool that seemed to suck out every dream, every aspiration and every joy! He just wanted to shake it off. He couldn’t take it anymore. Suddenly, the phone rang; he picked it up almost before sound escaped the machine. Some good deeds seemed to have paid off. There was an outburst of joy on his face. The client somehow did not seem to be interested in the park land! A business loss to him! But what was making him so eternally happy? To him this seems like a miracle, as he smiles in disbelief. The trauma that had infested his mind few minutes ago had ended. It last for such a small time, yet it seemed like he had lived the pain and guilt for ages.
Even the thought of it coming again brought tears to his eyes. He closed his eyes and once again entered the park; a sense of euphoria engulfed him. He visualized the soft green grass, the cool breeze that soothed him and little feet making their way rapidly chasing butterflies.
A content smile spread over his face.
Again…the park gate is opening with a creaking sound, this time mingled with the sound rapid breathing.
Two kids. Their eyes gleaming with joy and as they are alarmed by the sound of the gate opening as if a harbinger of hope and love coming their way...
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
We could make the colors
of the butterfly
on a pallette.
We could steal
from a little
not be opium for the mind,
then setting free
would not be
tagged a crime.
The rain drops could pause
for a while,
I could just taste some.
Keep the pure and sweet.
Let the bitter fall to ground,
meet the earth in a kiss.
An instrument existed,
that created the sound of the
could make us believe.
The world would cease to exist!
Let some time.
Nature mock man.
Perhaps we would not let it
The world would be
a little less complicated.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
carefully sculpted heart.
Plastered in places
that broken belong.
Into the lovely
of the blue life.
Fishing into sea,
Travelling into deep shallows of dreams concerted.
I slowly collect.
The confettii left,
the world revelled
Only a little ray,
Rested on my lap
Distorted its path.
knowing not which
world it demarks?
Still enlightening every
little speck of floating dust.
Mediocre its existence.
Belief its pillar.
Trust in its last
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
The owl's alarm in the moon's arc.
The halloween peaks,
Capped in ice,
The abhominal roams.
The tranparent turns opaque,
Fog is at its chase.
Leaves treacherous, branches hollow.
Little love birds sense and seer,
chirping tales to the deer.
Like a night song soothing,
their destinies waging fear.
the impertinent breeze slying.
Roaring, a harbinger its fellow grey skies.
The canvas is set,
The window pane wet,
The fresh dew is my paint.
And so all set.
Riding the woods in my dreams.
What a thrill,
the abhominable stands still....
As I draw my sword of will.
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Always when one dream ends,
Miles of my mind knows no end,
Little bit of the mud’s smell,
Jinxed with a thirsty snare,
Again hunting I go.
To meadows yellow, dancing to the fall’s snore.
I know …….
Again it will crush
I pluck a thistle and plant a flower.
The fence of thorns ends the dream,
Casting dark silhouettes scream,
Shrill, uncouth piercing through the orange sheen,
They welcome me but what for,
A cup of warmth from a bottle of wrath?
Yet again hunting I go.
To the meadows yellow, dancing to the fall’s snore.
Again it will crush
I pluck a thistle and plant a flower.
Blowing away my withers too,
Felicity is what,
If not the humming bird romancing tendrils new,
A jaded fly will rest the petals,
Take a flight bold and dauntless,
And that will merry my heart more,
Chase away every scream and screech.
Who can dare to crush it now?
I found my strength.
Don’t dare a storm touch!
My Planted thistle,
My blooming flower.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
I see in the mirror
A structure so scattered,
living in confines of laws.
The gunny bag presence,
Strings tightly drawn.
And sometimes the hush of wind,
Calls a whistle of to me,
my sight just draws through.
Squeezing my vision,
The small pores, trappings weaved.
Hungry my dreams,
the world of creation waiting for me.
Beads of sweat start to form,
the only sign of something in me alive.
My eyes freeze,
on the little spider in this prison,
Incessantly she climbs.
not burying dreams in defeat.
Tripping to crumbles,
again voyaging to the top,
wisely setting its feet between gaps of ropes.
What a brave fall,
braver where it aspires to reach.
I sort of stand,
in the rising of euphoria,
I will not let the steam die,
I will burn incandescence the sky.
I will just not throttle my dreams,
I will paint the sky yellow with glee.
I want to be free.
I want to be free.
Friday, November 12, 2010
Image:J.R..sell between the lakes
Slowly, nonchalantly I pass the bushes,
Little birds sing along,
It's not sun set,
It's not yet dark,
The sky is now turning Mauve.
Reminiscence of long lost days,
When dew drops and butterflies,
I would chase.
Stopping at purple poppies,
Lost in dreams.
Sugar tarts packed for the sun,
And some honey and just half a bun.
The sunshine would make me high.
Just some water from the lake and some lovely sky.
A chimera of sorts,
I sneak a reflection of myself at the lake!
I see more then all it fakes.
Shows me pastures green,
The golden falling,
houseflies in agony,
The mauve's french kiss, the cloud's touch.
Feathery wind and harmony within..
Between the lakes I love to be.
Neighbor of my fantasy dreams.
Here I believe my canvas hue,
fills love in the night's stew.
The rosy woods are thorny sweet.
I will never forget,
Between the lakes I want to be.
Friday, November 5, 2010
Then I switch over to another channel...it says 'Rishta vahi, soch nayi'
and I see a more modernly clad 'bahu' whining about her 'saas' to her mom over the phone.
They are amazing! They take us back into the 19th century and just sort of reverse our growth chart and slaughter our identities.They insult those brave reformers who fought us respect!Food for bitching...Gossip gaming what we all are pigeon holed as! If a woman who sees that does not find it utterly pathetic she deserves it! So here they are calling themselves the ideal portrayals of women.
well.... suddenly I hear a melody.
I check the channel ,it is the same one. What I see holds my attention, and yea that's what it's meant for!
I see , observe the spot in a gray scale.Cherubic school girl, very Indian. Tightly braided hair and the strategic use of brand color , red and white to write happy birthday on the board. Remarkable.
Delightful, the expressions Of the little girl, are unforgettable. The eye for detail is what brings in the amazing emotional connect. The song....it has enthralled and brought a sense of euphoria to me. So many I know watch the ad for the beautiful meaning it delivers in the song.
Why is the impact so emotionally powerful? primarily because we all, who are the brand's target audience miss our school days. Cherish the friendship then in its most nascent, budding, gullible and crystal clear form. We just ,for a few seconds, travel back to memories of class and relive them. It sort of rejuvenates my body and soul every time I hear the beautiful piece!
A good brand goes beyond selling a service! It creates a sense of belonging well connected to the service offered. Vodafone delight here! An expression beyond happiness is delight! The most superlative form of warmth and the realization that someone somewhere finds you special! Showers you with unexpected and inexplicable affection!
The words of a man of passion, and more Indian then an ad man,Piyush Pandey believes...
‘Creativity is to say something in fashion that sticks in the mind, rather than saying it in a normal fashion. If ten people meet you in the morning and if all of them are saying – Good Morning – the guy who says it differently will be remembered. He is creative. But if he does a head stand, it won’t work. So one has to do things which have not been done in the past, but which are relevant.’ Relevance to context. In advertising terms – to the consumer and her need for the product. ‘If you like it, as a viewer, there’s a good chance that people will also like it.’ And he doesn’t think of this charm as anything mysterious. ‘Relating to the people of India is what we are paid for. I’ve not created any magic. A hundred years ago, when the guy on the road sang – chana gore garam – he was not trying to be a singer. He wanted people to buy from him, and not from the other guy."
Advertising creates and gives a brand humanity and character. Humanity and emotions become close to heart and are easily accepted.That creates demand!
If you ever said advertising doesn't create demand, think again!
Little things do matter....a lot!
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Painting:Morning Magic J.R. Sell Original Art
From the top I gaze,
The road invites me,
The birds flying by, to find a warmer place.
The sun brings warmth, fueling the fog's rage.
It's one of those days...
Hypnotized,Bewitched...I run out the door,
Running the steps as if flying low.
Onto the beauty the morning jewel,
I plant my dream near the wild lilies shade.
It's one of those days...
The lily drops its head to the breeze,
As if a pact of guarding my dream.
I bow, in a humble,nonchalant grace,
The little squirrel, the witness of pact,
Coyly, blushing nibbling past....
As I walk to the music in my head,
Peaceful the blue sky shed,
I dig my pocket and suddenly feel,
Some seeds of sin, crave within.
And as I fish them out in my hand...
Beans of coffee sinfully grin,
Smirking at them...I move on to no land.
The path has ended, its charismatic fate.
Dawn now casting its spell.
I will buzz along home with the bee..
She will spare some honey for me?
I will spill it all over the place,
It's just one of those..
those happy days...
Monday, November 1, 2010
Winter comes and generally the dark and checkered colors are out of the closet and fresh spring colors are pushed in. Eventually, stating that one should wear this and that color to stay trendy makes no sense. Some colors just don't look good on some skin complexions and others might not find specific colors appealing. One can never go wrong with black, brown, gray, red, purple and mustard yellow for fall/winter.
They are always in and look great with just one funky accessory to add some glam and warmth for the winter. So, how to wear the color fashion trends? Wear them as your key piece clothing; as a black turtleneck sweater, grey chunky cardigan, orange floral blouse or a dress, and balance it with a pair of classic dark blue or black jeans. Luckily, the color trend for fall/winter Fashion 2009 is subtle enough to wear to work. Pair them up with pointed black shoes or pumps.
Scarves add to the sensuousness and style and pink and beige in satins are unique choices.Checkered scarves are now very common so they aren’t very in.
If you want to get the most out of your fall/winter fashion 20010 wardrobe budgets, you might want to focus on buying accessories in those colors, such as a knit scarf in burnt sienna (orange), beaded jewelry in teal or a suede bag in tan brown.
If you want a more exotic look, accompany the color tones with gold or silver jewelry. The metallic shine remarkably accentuates the beauty in the colors. A Simple metallic bangle or a nice studded bracelet in aqua or yellow looks very classy.
So How to wear it? Overdoing it might get one looking over dressed and the next fashion disaster! Wear them in small doses and balance them out with a couple of garments from the wardrobe essentials-list. Like for example, the studs and sequins. If you're wearing a studded leather jacket, sequin vest or plaid shirt, work around it by adding colors and clothes that complement the look. Like a pair of distressed denim jeans complement a plaid shirt without being too "out there".
Whatever you choose to wear, remember to keep it the trends and essentials at a 50/50 level. Avoid bringing too much of the good stuff because one would end up looking out of the place. Being too ‘matchy matchy’ is strict no-no, green bag, blue jeans, green earrings and green shoes yells disaster!
These trends will help you look cool and cuddly and make your winter colorful. Not to forget the always applicable fashion mantras for any season ‘wear what you are comfortable in’. Style comes from confidence within.
Sunday, October 31, 2010
A puerile face, peeped into the old cupboard. Her beady black eyes searched for long, until they happened to rest upon the wooden chest. She hastily brushed back a curly strand of hair from her face.
Alas,her tiny palms were no match.The heavy chest would not open its arms. But the strong princess did not give up. She fostered all her courage, she stood up.Huffing and puffing with all her life, blood splashing a hue of red on her angelic face...she managed to open the old chest.
A blast of purple light blinded her! When she awoke, she was amazed to see. A fairy there waiting, watching her happily. She neither spoke, nor sang.....confused the little princess held the fairy's hand. The fairy led the princess through a grass maze. There seemed some light, even stronger than the purple blinding one. The princess jumped, stretched her neck...until her toes began to ache.
Suddenly a cold blow stabbed her heart. Sweat trickled down her spine, tears flowed and she lost her smile. Her hand not clasped in the fairy's anymore, the little princess could not move! she just froze.
Then a volcano burst from her stomach and melted her frozen heart. She detested,the fairy mother's kind face! A mere sham!
Tired, weary to calm her heart, the princess closed her eyes as her father's words came clear and close.
"Trust your strengths, believe your goal,
Let injustice not master you,
keep away from self pity and jealousy sore,
You will grow wings strong, all of your own,
And fly higher,bring justice home"
A burst of light broke the maze. The princess grew little wings,still weak but all her own. Then running at the speed of light , smashing all in her way...the princesses wings grew bigger, stronger at each gait. Then she took a flight so high, above the blinding purple mist. She saw the tower, still hidden in the purple shroud.
Her wings ached but she would never surrender, to the cruel fairy and her magic of disguise. She still remembered her motherly face. The little princess had trusted her then. She had thought the little princess will succumb, perish in the evil maze. The little princess forgot her ache, and perched on the towers top clearing the haze.
Astounded to see her reach alive. The fairy's motherly face turned green,shrouded in jealousy's grime. Her evil ghoulish face, shook the princess still little. But she had to let fear pass and not show on her face pink.
The fairy was way too strong and had wings so powerfully grown. She froze the princess in a flash...
The princess is frozen at the top of the tower...along with moss and dead flowers.
But the story does not end here. Her heart is beating she has to just combat fear.Soon the princess will melt and free...and a brutal will shall take her over. To rescue her prince, trapped in the tower!
Saturday, October 30, 2010
Someday when I sit at the window, a tear drop rolls by
Lovely rain decorating the glass, I travel back to memories of class.
Maggi noodles and cutting chai, fresh smell of notes at the stationary guy.
Passing notes, silent phones,
Singing songs at the steps, coming late and knocking doors.
Friends, partners in crime.
Getting caught for using the lift, almost the third time!
Fighting for space at the food court,
For every piece of pizza, there is world war in store.
Standing up for right from wrong,
Each soul searching its song.
One day we’ll all be gone, but college days will ring along.
Memories of sharing one umbrella among three.
I fear separation of my college days and me!
image: Pixmac photos
We never acknowledge it, but it never leaves us. It’s that reflection of the self that we seek belief in when the whole world seems like a labyrinth, where one would definitely lose oneself. The shadow still follows tirelessly.
That’s why I call HER ‘My Shadow’.
She is mad, funny, crazy, caring and independent and many other paradoxical things all at the same time. There is a comfort in her voice that calms the flutters of my heart almost instantly. There is an assurance in her smile that everything will just be OK at once. She is what friendship means to me today, her name is Gauri.
“What? She did that to you”? Gauri yelled almost shouting over the phone. It had just happened and I was sitting on the cold, lonely bench outside class. I had eventually been thrown out, due to my blank expressions and staring at the English text as if it was Hebrew, by Miss David. “I would cherish your honorable presence, mental as well next time Devangini” she said firmly as I nodded in acceptance, still a blank look on my face and excused myself from class. Not that it was her fault; she was one of the most adorable teachers. It was just that I had too many things to keep from doing, like breaking into tears, thinking of what happened today morning and letting my shattered heart show on my face. It was like I felt a vacuum inside me. So, as usual, I just punched her number. “Yes, now she is boycotting me, eventually blaming me for what she did” I said, almost at the verge of tears. I went on to explain that my best friend Heena and our group of friends had blamed me just to take revenge on a group of guys that I was better friends with. Heena had spilled out group secrets to them and just to save her a** told the other girls it was me who did it! Of course they believed her and gave me all ‘those’ betrayed looks that welled up my eyes for something I could never even imagine doing. The mere thought of it scared me!
It wasn’t a silly thing, as what hurt me more was the feeling of being misunderstood always. I was being punished for what? Couldn’t they believe me as much as they believed her? What had I not done for Heena? Cried to her mom to forgive her when she read Heena’s personal dairy, dropped classes because she was feeling low, getting her medicine at recess for headaches and endless other things. Did it mean nothing to her? Oh! Sorry I must not boast what I did, but I just feel like screaming it all out! Never did I expect that in return but of course, respect for it at least. I blurted my heart out to Gauri realizing in no time that I was tasting salt from my tears already. Listen, she said in a calm voice “if there is someone who cannot understand you, then can you call them friends at all? Aren’t you better off with people who believe in you come what may? You are not perfect and so people may take you for granted, but I am proud of you because that is the real you. At least you are not fake. You know you did nothing wrong and once the other girls realize it they will trust you even more. If they don’t there is nothing to regret as they never thought you to be ‘theirs’. I felt so relieved! I almost smiled! She too did in return, as if she heard my smile over the phone! Words were not needed, nor were thanks.
That was the first strong stem of our friendship, and after 7 years it’s still growing fearlessly, with colorful blossoms, without any thorns. I have learnt that friendship is the art of believing and nurturing a bond that is beyond every material thing. Believing means never giving up and always following through good and bad. That’s why she is my shadow and I promise to be hers. I Love you my shadow.
My stomach was churning, but I felt like doing cartwheels. This was like actually living a Hindi film scene! On my way to a good cause, I stared back at the trail we had left behind as we speeded past the bumpy, busy roads of Pune. My thoughts were interrupted by a resounding click. Nisha and Sarika were busy taking pictures, capturing this beautiful and equally weird moment. It would anyways be etched in my memory forever. After the food collection drive for an animal welfare project had been completed as a part of business communication, we were delivering the heap of help we all had managed to collect. But what was Hindi film like in that? Well….Mrs. Jasmine had said “ok, now that we have finished with collection and the tempo is here, I need a few to volunteer to go with it till the NGO”. A few guys reluctantly put up their hands. I and my two friends Nisha and Sarika did too, a little more happily. Mrs. Jasmine’s face lit with cheer, the usual twinkle in her black eyes. “Great then, let’s make a move” she said smirking at us, pointing the other students to get into the college bus.
We were pretty happy until we got to know that we would have to sit at the back along with the huge heap because obviously there wasn’t place for many in the front. The guys had to guide the driver. We just stared at each other for a while until the driver honked so loudly that we almost instantly jumped into the back of the open, rusted, rickety tempo.
“Shit happens” Sarika said. We crammed into the little space, cursing ourselves for raising our hands! The ignition roared and we set off. Some annoying silence had also crammed in along with us. I mean 3 girls set in denims and shirts inside an archaic tempo was amusement for people waiting at the signal. They stared at us like we were from outer mars! The 3 min signal seemed like eternity to me. Then suddenly we saw smiles across their impatient faces. Some even cheered with thumbs up! They saw our badges with the NGO name on it. Suddenly a sense of pride engulfed me. Our cold stares at each other turned into proud broad grins. We cheered back. And so, I am living one of the most weird but learning moment of my college days, I am so proud of it even though its Hindi film types. Nisha and Sarika are clicking pictures. I love this journey; my heart is bumping to the rhythm of its soul. I stare at the chaos that is left behind. A moment I would have thought would bring only embarrassment has brought me to do the weirdest and most unsophisticated things. I am sure however low I am, however sad I feel; this memory will make me smile. It will give me the courage to be spontaneous always. Now I believe it’s not always the tough times that we learn from, but the little nuances of life teach sweeter and deeper lessons.
Friday, October 29, 2010
I am still...alive..wait listen to me. Just stop this ...its cracking my nerves...my pain is killing me. I beg you just stop this now!
Muted...my shouts are muted. Forever! Today I stand alone amongst many. Perhaps many whose identity is as jagged as is mine. I stand at the center,the last to be fitted into the gird of cement. Concrete, geometric....throttled just observing life around.I, once a sculptors dream. I once the inspiration of i reptile...dreaming of me as his home. Now, pulled out. Cut, sliced fitted into this geometric, manipulated creation that guards life from life, one human against another.
Any life that tries to grow on me is cut off. Once a creeper friend, i dearly cherished was replaced by sharp pieces of glass and rusted wire with brutal ends. I cannot be ordinary, but I cannot fight this glue that holds me strong. One day will it melt? will it one day wither? Or find another way to go..like the roots lived along me earlier. We made a kind pact....to grow and find ways of comfort for both.
With these one against another creatures its different. They kiss and hug in my shadow.....then one stabs another once on my other side. There are pacts, yes...for some time of need. Do they last? I don't know....I can't reach beyond. I told you this wretched Grey glue holds me fast. Others like me have given up. Drowned their existence in this huge thing standing tall....to keep one against another...I told you.
This old lady who sits in my shade is different from others. She is not yet cut away from me. I believe they do not go against her, she seems to belong to the same race. They keep her out always, let her be with me. She is okay on the outer side..they don't entertain her inside. She talks to me, fearless and loud. Her rags ruffle against me but the barbs make no difference to her. Whether light or dark, sun or shadow, creepers or barbs she does not leave my companionship. She smiles so often, loudly. The creases of her eyes are so kind. She blabbers as loudly at every human...they pay no heed. Sometimes they shoo her away but she never minds the other day. But I don't know why....they label her with these three cruel letters 'MAD'.
Stoned...I'm stoned. Set me free and i will tell you.....more of my story. Set me free, if you do I promise....i will prove existence is not merely there. Existence is the victory against crisis.
Just across the window pane, hiding behind the curtain something caught my sleep ridden eye. A splash of magenta,coyly inviting me to celebrate the warm rays of sun.Now enough inspired to pull out of the cozy bed I reached the window, resting my body half oh the wall. Still the cozy embrace of my warm blanket hadn't left me. One cant help but adore, this lovely, full grown rose. A hybrid by section of two breeds of roses that is very beautiful but rarely survives! My mind traveled back to the thoughts that had whirled in it when i fought logic to buy this expensive shrub. Nurturing it all this while, not expecting this magnetic, Magentic burst of joy. Prettily dancing to the winds tune, charmed by its color the butterfly fluttered only to rest and not leave for seconds.I was finding it impossible to control my urge to touch its soft petals. The seconds the butterfly perched itself for on the rose, felt like years to me. In front of the flower, even the beauty of the magnificent winged creature seemed dull to me. Well...maybe it was my love, my sense of belonging at work.The child is always pretty for the mother.My mind now drifts to when it will start to wilt! Can it not live forever? This magentic beauty ..... will have to wither! give in to natures law....like all of us have to. Why did it make the most beautiful last the least? Ranging from the butterfly to the little, pure drop of rain and of course this masterpiece. What went into it? I wondered.....maybe no human form, artist or entity can duplicate its color, charm and purity! No not one....not even the best painter in the world, not even the best photographer in the world!Perhaps I have discovered today...why the best things are the shortest lived. Nature does not want duplication,crushing originality.....evil human instincts that suck out everything pure. Leaving a distaste...an unnerving pain....a song of sorrow. No I agree now to nature's law. Let it wilt instead in grace. Accept getting old and celebrate it with the thorns and the leaves. Let the butterfly suck its nectar and make the moment a monument of its love...and promise in the mud's embrace they will live forever. Let their love never die.....One last time i close my eyes, capturing the beautiful epitome of purity. As i turn to leave, I make a wish....again for the love of the butterfly and the rose to last forever. The rose will leave a magenta of happiness in my dreams, fill my mind with its scent of purity.
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Crunching the leaves dry and dead,
hand in hand you and me fled.
The backyard will keep our secret,
Untold story of partners in crime..
We hike on, we float in time.
The lunch box piercing your chest,
tightly clamped, against your thudding breast.
The smell of the woods fills my heart,
Is the cricket warning? or just a sarcastic laugh?
And now finally i breathe a sigh!
looking into your tired eyes,
I know the other side is my better half.
My journey ends here, but without you i cannot start the back walk.
Here we meet our most detested third friend!
Human, reality, cast. I dread.
From here on i travel alone.
To the backyard, to tell the banyan tree of today's chores.
After you are gone, I wait as impatiently only for the sun,
So that with the dawn you crossover again and come!
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Resorting to dark,
Drenched in tear stains,
My spirit striving, swimming out of pains.
The shore holds the dark, the unknown,
You let me no reach it,
again and again you drag me in,
That corner you stay in!
I'm used to the madness but this is insane!
No body, no form.
Feeling of fear shudders the valves of my heart.
I sense you stand,
I sense your power,
Tremendous rage isn't revenge over?
Are you a soul or a living dream?
Are you a scavenger or messenger of His?
Faith, enigma, euphoria , or a reflection of me?
Never has harm stalked me,
Are you keeping me in safety?
Why do you follow me in the dark?
Free me or leave me fast.
To the world I'm anyways a star gone wrong,
Confused, prejudiced, but rooted strong.
You will never win this haunting game,
The room loves my enchanting smell,
This darkness is my companion, my endless friend.
Monday, September 27, 2010
painting:The Edge of Tranquillity’ by Nick Gerolemou
misty,mysterious not clearing way.
Unrevealed, reluctant its stay.
My vision battles, I refuse to stray.
The evil fog succumbs then.
Revealing a path, my knees creak,
I start to pace , ears tweak.
I quick turn, just the squirrel scurrying
Reaching branches,resident birds in ruffling sleep.
Fog unveils an unwinding path,
Thudding my temples, thumping heart.
The sight exhilarates some strength starts to grow,
Hypnotizing me the labyrinth calls,
Come not wait, surprises land never straight.
Lost feeling disappearing with the fog,
Stunned i just move on.
What lies ahead i know not.
I know , I have found my journey to embark on.
Never again will i be lost
never again will i be lost
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Perched at the porch,
rusty smelly palms,
feeling the thrill,
my stomach churning on.
I'm off now but its following still,
What enchanting flow, what a soulful swing.
Beads of sweat, hair smelling sweet,
I stare at my palm, beginning to itch.
My vision moves to the feet,
Muddy,filthy content and free.
The grass below is dancing underneath,
In Chorus with the swing's Retreat.
while after when still,
the creaking sound wont pester in,
When the sparrow arrives at the suns consent,
perches on you, my mind is upset!
Its time for me to set the tables,
I want to reach high,
fly, believe with you,
stretch one palm out and feel the golden air.
Make breeze with spring in my feet and laughter in my hair.
But from the window I admire you stance.
Swing..... rusted, old
You hold memoirs of my childhood and more.
Saturday, August 21, 2010
Image:Shadow painted by Paloma Spaeth.
Drowned in thought in the evening's land of orange,
I hear a whisper...breaking the silence hushing in solace.
My shadow it is and who else?
But for a second I stunned stare,
as if lost in its dark embrace.
Then words, I open up.
Putting my soul to listen hard of what is heard.
Thumping heart, ribs shred,
slowly I feel tears bled.
"running away into the imaginary,
clad in studs of illusion, fantasy...
Your senses seem to have numbed , gone blind.
Sometimes you love what ideal is,
and remember the ideal always deceives.
Sometimes there seems no end,
forever is nothing, unreal for real the heart mistakes.
Sometimes you leave the present for the future test,
past is gone, did you forget?
Today's present was future yesterday.
Sometimes yes, miracles happen.
To dark compliments only fire.
Your wings of hope will let you flee."
A smile faint , a heart calm.
Shadow you lead the way,
awakened my conscience,
Why did you cease to say,
call me again, please stay.
where are you?
not again, I'm already betrayed.
come again to soothe my soul,
come back whisper more.
You stepped back into the nights sting.
I will make up and you will see,
I will kiss , i will love, i will free.
My notions i will burn in fire,
I will once again give in to desire.
Let me foster courage enough.
Just let me foster courage enough.
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Unleashed, passionate, peaceful mind;
Standing on the toes of rhyme.
Fragile but free,
Lone in glee,
steadily reaching from mellow to energized.
Perfect, flawless,euphoric to the brim,
arms stretching, embracing the wind.
Pink pout, preparing love;
The white clouds in morning's mirror.
Swirl once for me lady in white,
You are desired the most,
But still decorating the showcase.
Out of fairy tales,
Epitome of expression
They say they love you, but won't claim you be theirs.
Friends are many,
like how many stay?
Like me you are always beauty betrayed!
image:timelessmemoriesart.com/Digital art Painting/digitalpainting-adrian2
Facing the shine, never choosing to whine.
strong stem , buried deep as like roots nailed within.
Standing against the test of time,
Putting the wind to a power test,
Yellow gem, you are all mine.
layers of petals covering your core,
So many like you stand a cluster,
but the bees the butterflies, you they chose.
Thumbelina's home, tells a tale.
Why safe in your and no other arms?
Breathing safe, petals the shield,
You still let the life seep in.
Then when she was strong, you let go.
But, i want to be in your arms, don't separate the dew from the drops!
With you i want to wilt,
You die, giving me life...my mind will throb with guilt, day and night.
For all the hope you dare,
For all the joy you share,
For all the love you care,
For all the warmth you spare...
You are special and beyond compare
I love you, my sunflower..
May you always keep growing,
My memories are fodder ...... I'll water you with magical tears that keep my eyes flooding!
Lone at the lake,
I delve back into reflections,my face a distorted image.
I see no else, I hear no more,
I just stare,just alone.
The impatience you hate, the care you love.
The smile you frown at, the soul you curse.
The lies you like, the truth i say you leave far behind.
The face you think is a remarkable pretense,
for you its perfectly charted innocence.
Entwined in the eyes a happy sorrow,
You judge the outer, my mind travels to tomorrow.
I'm never still, never till
I worm my way into a heart to make it break open,
rip walls apart.
You hate , you dislike.
Every part of me that is mine.
Like a mask i bottle up,
Like you just blocked the noose,
not letting me choose to be.
I want to free, but I'm locked in.
The sun the fuel,
The earth the pot,
The sky the lid and my faith to spark.
The day and night are the tongs.
Crammed inside I'm cooking up to be free,
Then you can never judge me.
The world will let me be,
The world will just let me be.
Just let me be!
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Artist: Lilla Cabot Perry
Ten storey standing tall,
Down I glance, ringing my ears a faint song.
My eyes skim, travel across,
I stare at the luscious tree tops.
Is it a bird in bloom?
or music playing in some room?
At the edge, almost to fall,
Inspired by the melody is search for long.
The road silent,stagnant at dawn.
Machines not yet started to swarm.
And then at last, my eyes stop and stance.
A small boy, a speck but spark,
singing to school an enlightening song.
Like a snail moving slow,
enjoying the drops,nature's galore.
chiming in his childish voice,
to music of the rain divine.
Abruptly as the showers burst to hail,
The little angel speeds up fast.
Turning at the winding road, disappearing almost gone.
Drenched,i stand still,
Tthe rain piercing hitting in.
I pray you be humble to him rain.
Let the sun ripen his heart,
for him, let life be a lunch of sweet tarts.
Sifting, cooling caressing my feet;
sand making way into finger gaps,
The waves soothing,purgative cleanse my feet,
but sand again seeps in.
Spreading,across a golden sheen.
The ocean's Vastness lies beyond horizons,
swallowing all reckless and near.
Sand lets the tide in,
I drift away to draw a dream.
Slowly i make a small mark,
Using colorful glass to decorate,
shells and pebbles to keep my dream from drowning.
Steadily I feel divine,
Protecting my art, like a father protecting child.
The wind pierces through the fence of hair,
Quickly blowing my scarf again.
I move, I haste for my favorite scarf, wind the thief runs along.
I grab, I turn, I fear the destruction of my talent.
The Tide has done its part, swept the last memory of my art.
I sigh and then again i smile,
I'm not defeated, the canvas is mine.
Tomorrow again i will paint my life,
Tomorrow again i will paint my mind.
The tarnished necklace lies on a dark pillow,
magical, intricate craftsmanship now shattered and hollow.
On the pillow it writes its story,
Of hope and joy and never ending glory.
What struggle each pearl dying made,
For each one was born of dirt caught in the oyster shell.
Deep in the oceans lap,
The pearl evolved with the lashes claps.
Throttled freedom, fished out,
The princesses jewel in pride shroud.
The waves laughed,mocked the pearl,
But on pretentious back, boastfully the pearl itself revered.
Knocking off the oceans in glee,
The pearl thought it feared departure, mere jealousy.
Illusions cast of chandelier and gold,
Satin carpets,glistening thrones.
Fashioned proud the princesses trinket,
Always near, good and fortunate.
Scheming and plotting the queens death,
The princess failed, cursed this amulet.
Fury broke the magic weaved,
The pearl on the pillow, recalls the lashes laughing in mystery.
“Pride makes us artificial and humility makes us real”
The pearl, lone aimless,fretting in tear.
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Sneaking through the shutters the sun creates vignettes.Contrasts wash the walls of my room,covering my face like a veil. Pebbles of light.Batting my lashes against the sunlight,I glance at the small,red plastic shovel. From my garden kit, when i was 10.This is the beauty of reopening old chests from the loft.Discovering this amulet,my time machine,traveling back to reliving euphoric times with you.I loved that sweet smell of jasmine attar,your kind doe eyes,your fetish for dry fruits.All of it.On Sundays with you in the garden,I got this kit along.Sunday was never without you.You would hold my little pudgy hands,take me near the guava tree and we would plant more saplings there.I was always annoyed with you because you never let me sit under the coconut tree,water it. I complained,how much i loved the coconut Kheer you made of them. I wasn't even allowed to water it! little did i know the fear of sitting under it, i thought coconuts were always removed by Mali kaka and never came off without our wish. Kheer was award for innocence,you laughed. Your black,kind,doe shaped eyes twinkled. I loved them.Your love for me was so pure, untarnished.You even kissed my mud stained face;ruffling my already messed up hair so that the cofetti of yellow, miniature leaves that had decorated it fell off.Then tired i would retire for an afternoon nap in your lap, after the most scrumptious meal you rewarded me with. Ofcourse not forgettting the kheer,a blend of my innocence and you sugary love. My disgust for you not letting me work under the coconut tree was bribbed by dry fruits. Today is sunday and its your birthday,so many sundays have stormed by after you left. Every sunday i miss you!i Love you Grandma.
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
I hope you get drenched in the early rains,
so that you get high on sunshine.
i wish when you risk the tan.
You will put up with the blisters without much strain.
I hope you enough heart ache,
so that the next time you risk your heart
You don't fall on your knees and fret.
I wish you enough strength to not let it tear apart.
I hope you enough courage,
to forgive your friends and foes.
so that today you know its them,tomorrow it could be you...who knows?
I wish you enough mistakes, so you know nothing comes for free.
I hope you enough tears,to let your heart cry.
so that you will always give random acts of kindness a try.
You know only smile can punch pain,
So you bring laughter lines on creases that don't seem to mend.
I hope you enough darkness,
so you see the light within.
I wish you love the coals so that the diamond is seen.
I hope you enough chaos,
so you always steal the right away from wrong,
For every soul who wishes to sing always finds its song.
I hope that however tall you grow,
however fast and strong.
I wish that on your safe shoulders, my head i can always rest...all life long!
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Wandering through symmetries of cement,
i head happily towards nowhere.
The sun of the morning is still a little far,
Wet pavements bring aroma of the night past.
I love the smell of the wet earth,
Soon the sun will give a golden kiss,
A new morning is rebirth.
The leaves dance a playful gait,
coy, smitten by the wind's flirty chase.
Farther i move on the pavement...
I see the moss growing by,
outlining the pavement in a green dye.
Little yellow buds will sprinkle and simmer,
The pavement will be lit with cheer.
Scorching sun will cake the moss,
The beautiful wet smell lost.
The sun will retreat slowly,
leaving the sky painted in hues of red.
Natures master piece...
Evening is the final rays,
Pretty lamps cast an orange canopy over the pavements.
Wind is furious and harsh,
Blowing dried leaves across,
Fear not the departure of the green.
But prepare welcome for tomorrow's arrival of gold,
Carnival of nature, decorating pavements unseen.
Thursday, July 8, 2010
i scream, i yell,
I'm drowning deep,
I slowly go from shallow to steep.
Familiar is nothing here,
my lashes dig into my eyes.
Praying, praying someone would get me out in time.
Lost,half dead not able to hold my breath,
I know praying now wont help.
blades of water cut through me,
Scared i gulp my plea.
I open my eyes...lashes hurting badly. i realize.
The water makes my vision go blind.
I close in again, again i open my eyes.
The water gushes cruelly inside,
As if some chest of pearls hidden lies.
The same water i love when it saves me from thirst,
What am I thinking....my veins are about to burst.
Water has not left any part untouched,
near death,now i value love.
The fishes a vibgyor cluster.
Each one proud in their own land.
Intruders like me are no damn.
In their land the water guards them,
They know i will eventually repent and become one with the algae and dying flesh.
Now i think i am eternally strong.
The underwater is another land.
In its vastness i will be sublime.
Just when i discovered a land divine...my dream is broken in no time!
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Solitary not alone,
real not cloned.
I stare at you lying in bed.
The cold stings my nerves... but i just stare.
Cool but warm
you cast your charm.
Wrapped in white you look eerie,
so beautiful that its scary.
indispensable to where you belong.
Flawless, unnerving floating into dawn.
free but bound,
silent but loud.
Feeling you is not far,
touching your perfection will cause no harm.
Distant your companion of my dreams...
Angelic..like a child's cherubic face.
Where do you disappear without a trace?
I miss your tranquility in the morning..
your touch, your constant haze.
You go away only to meet me again at the dark,
I love you MOON...you give me strength for the day.
Your nature's most precious spark!
just thinking who made time?
what does it mean to stay?
some how we hide from such questions,
curiosity that would shake millions?
nowhere in this land i find,
beings existing without the trance of time.
Why cant i travel back and forth?
what is decay? what is growth?
Time..talk to me,
answer my questions...those silent times.
Don't tick away to glory like that!
I want those precious moments back.
Please you cant define silence for me.
You must not put so much noise...and then believe we should on silence thrive.
So many questions i ask you 'time'.
Tell me why some tunes succumb to silence and fail to chime.
You are nothing but a product of mind.
You cant fool those who fight against you to survive.
We dance to your tune because we decide.
Answer me! You cant cast your spell on me,
I cant help sail in your trance..
But one day you will answer me...and to my tunes dance!
because you are nothing but a product of mind..or matter of chance.
staring outside the window,
i watch each drop.
then breaking into many as the floor they knock.
oh...what does that remind me of?
The broken mirror, shattered yet reflecting what was inside me locked.
sun baked mornings , late nights dew,
cheese cake aroma, hair ribbons red and blue.
pearl drop earrings , pretty pink shoes.
crushing, crushing hard does he love me too?
the mystery continues...
My knees go weak when i see you,
confessions you make of your love for me,
But you say i change, become your barbie;
i love my original self..dont you?
Distortions they are so beautifully true.
the broken mirror...artificiality it overthrew.
No not you, you cant love me.
how can you?
for where my beauty lies..you never knew.
Broken mirror..shattered though you are,
you reflect the true,
of who ever stood in front of you!
Monday, July 5, 2010
Some key looks are being spotted already. Stripped knee length pants, hot pants and denim boy pants are a wardrobe-must this spring. No longer must we stick to boring block colors for pants, for all varieties of printed pants have made their way onto the Spring runways. Whether floral, striped, abstract, bold or subdued... patterns on pants are giving us new bold wardrobe options for the warmer months.
Cool, long t-shirts in white and pink shades give a comfortable and chilled out look. They can be paired up with leggings and tennis shoes or slip ons and a nice hair band with polka dots or floral prints. This makes up for a total pleasant spring look you can sport in college and still look feminine and elegant.
Well denims are an all time hit! Just when you thought they would never return... ripped jeans are back. So what can you possibly do next? Patch them of course! It's not for everyone, but its an option that's gaining traction. Patched jeans work well as skinnies, or try patched denim flares for a revival of 70s chic.Cotton kurtis look just great with a pair of mojris and bangles with dangler earrings. Cool blues, pinks, fresh greens, cheerful yellow and eye catchy orange are coloring the city ‘spring’. Stand collar kurtis can be paired up with trousers or chudidars and can also be worn for a corporate or formal look. Thick kangans with wooden carving and floral print or even multicolored bangles add zing to the spring look. Make up will be adding to the glam of spring and of course here comes more cheer. Go light on the lower part of the eyes i.e. kajal and wear bright, cool blue and green or peach eye shadows for fairer skin tones. Blushes can be colors like peach, pink, brown depending on the skin tone.Finally, some bag-must-haves for the spring are wet tissues to take care of the sweat and dirt of the skin, a pink or transparent lip balm, sweet smelling perfume, scarf, a Compaq or talc, kajal a SPF 30 or above sunscreen. Lots and lots of water is very important to beat the heat and call the glow. With all that in your kitty say “bring it on” to spring. [*published in iview]
hidden behind glam,
putting up masks.
I'm glad, I'm real.
Pep talks and gossips,discussing other lives,
Melting for love instead of wealth.
I'm proud, I'm just real.
behind hollow of the eyes,
flat stomachs, flashy sequined belts.
Anorexia, draining power, pale color.
I'm proud I'm not.
Big dreams, but faking love,
showing off in, letting not the soul beat...
Clothes so tight the heart screams.
free wings but scared of taking a flight?
I'm proud ,I'm not.
If its bothering you.
not being made to suit a fashion model's size,
search your soul.
In its depth you will find,
The beauty he sees is really,
the confidence in you walk,
the joy in your talk.
the twinkle in your eye,
flash of your smile.
Let the world judge your sham.
true love will choose soul searchers.
I'm proud,I'm real.
feet throbbing, heart thudding.
Into the wilderness,
creepers hanging long tresses.
Into a world happier,
Never ending...just like another dream to me it appears.
On the barks i paint my mind.
Caricature of the world I don't belong to,
still painting like a child.
To feel the petals on my cheeks,
rejuvenating the green welcome of the trees,
And see the world unfolding,
into the curls of the tendrils.
But in one thing i find no joy,
crunching the leaves under my feet.
They give so much, rise so high.
Then i think they might just touch the sky.
Rule of the wilderness is such,
blooming flowers wilting die,
green leaves, turning wry.
Becoming mud, engulfed in brown;
They greet the roots, and again they sprout.
My land i love it so much,
But when the sun goes down i will have to leave this land.
Return to the brutal atrocities of out land.
Only barbs will come my way,
shrouded in blood i will lay.
Sunday, July 4, 2010
on the playground everyday , the children gleefully played.
not thinking of anything else and lost in their game, little did they understood someones dream they betrayed!
it was sally the impaired, who was never asked into the game.
they made fun of sally n thought she was timid and lame.
everybody torchured sally with their hurtful words,
but the best at that was jenny , the bully for all the nerds.
every time any words that made sally cry,
the bullies were encouraged to give the teasing another try.
it went on till many days and jenne met with an accident!
he came to school with stitches on his lips, a dreadful scar and a plastered leg.
thought his friends could understand his temperament.
when he entered the classroom everybody stared at him with mock in their eyes.
" they must be surprised" thought he...of their mocking smiles.
but tears stung his eyes as he heard their words cruel,
"hey jenne , where did u get that ugly scar???
a tear ran down his cheeks as he got what he hadn't understood so far!
not after long he heard a voice behind him call,
' dare you make him cry...each one of us have once had a fall'!
jenne turned his head in astonishment....for who was this truthful one?
to his surprise he saw her, a slight smile on her face.
it was sally! the one of whom supported none.
then it hit him hard, all his words harsh.
had he not said,
the one who stood by him all this while was the one of whom a joke he had made!
and now if u see the playground , there are all types of children .
who play together,
not discriminating body or soul.....they value each other.
and will so farther!!
the worlds a playground too,
we are its players.
but we often don't realize the value of coal......
because we are busy searching diamonds!
peeping in at lovers.
Exploring the wilderness,
blossoms of tenderness.
Music in my wings,
away from painful stings.
leaving trails to undiscovered ways.
The silent creeper, growing faster,
feasting on happiness my friend the caterpillar.
Blushing yellow, basking the sunshine,
happiness today will all be mine.
Happiness today will all be mine.
You were always distant yet so close, always new yet so old. I was bound you knew,so much of me you loved; understood. Tears were not just drops of water and salt, they meant love,faith,trust,sorrow,happiness,freedom all such paradoxical things all at once. I never needed to share a word....you looked into my eyes and understood the jitters ant twitters of my soul. There was only one being God made...who heard the music of my soul. His heart sang the same song as mine. We put our ears down to listen hard and heard the right rhythm...danced,rejoiced,celebrated every beat. Why did you let me go? why did i have to take leave? shattering sounds replace the rhythm now...without you there can be no soulful music. I stand in a crowd of some i love and some i hate.Some cherish me...some curse their fate. Some are jealous,some love me true.I can never find another YOU. faith in God will keep me happy...you will shine always because you deserve.One day i will find enough strength to accept and grow with you....ill foster all my courage, but you must ensure not to leave me alone in this crowd. Alone in this crowd
Saturday, July 3, 2010
I stared at your room dingy dark,
not a ray of light;like the sky without a star.
I cared, i was bothered i was broken at heart.
Were you sick sleeping fast?
Deep inside i was dreading that day,
Slowly you were dying...I don't want to live to see,cant i not change fate?
Your a fighter, i know victory will be yours,
cancer will succumb to your will growing strong.
And i promise i will put up a fight too,
you have set an example , nothing can defeat a spirit true.
You traveled to a different world,
where i am sure love wins over curse.
you are never gone my dear Ray,
I have memories, our friendship will always stay.
Every morning when i go for my jog,
I look up at your room still dark.
I always see a ray seep through, that reminds me of your brave fight and YOU.
It always makes me proudly smile,
Today for you ill run an extra mile!
Friday, July 2, 2010
promising deep,tracing me.
Touching my soul,
as if listening to my hearts mystery ...yet mystifying me.
Talking in silence, a language of the soul.
let love follow its path,
let it set a trail of thoughts every moment its bound to grow.
I will never forget,i will never be free.
His deep brown eyes will haunt me.
cheer and sorrow, love and hate.
truth lies,endless faith.
All that in a beautiful pair?
His brown eyes ill never forget.
are you free or bound by the breeze?
breeze sweeping , storming by;
tell me, are you free or bound by fury?
fury ....do you hear the noise you make?
so much noise..how can the mind find a peaceful place?
fury said I'm bound by anger's tide,
the noise i make keeps it alive.
i found my answer, i found it late
peace is found in no place.
peace means the heart's calm,in a world full of fury,anger,bitter and chaos.
How do i keep up to that o lord?
Is another query i ask God!
-- Abraham Lincoln.
God!another English class! Mrs David is one of the best teachers around...but! BUT BUT BUT she prefers you working with a new partner each time! Man, assignments are hell...and dealing with yourself itself is a pain!I mean...SHIT HAPPENS!
I smile as I think of Mary " THE NERD " . My thoughts linger back to school days when I Learned 'A LESSON FOR LIFE'
10:35am Friday morning. David..oops David madams class has begun 5 min ago. Friday evening....Saturday.....SUNDAY...is just so close. WOW. 60 hrs later life will be cooler. "so whom have you chosen sweetheart? for your paper on William Wordsworth? ..or maybe i should help you get a partner Devangini..you don't look like you are with us". "oh..um mm yup madam i was just thinking.....Namrata and me share a perfect rapport mam".This is exactly what i want to decide...not let you decide..you know. LOOK children i want you guys to really work with new people...get to learn from different perceptions. so..Debi...you will pair up with Mary. Do we understand?"um..of course mam". OK so guys split up into your pairs and start working. SHIT HAPPENS. i had just made myself a topic for gossip! My popular group of friends were paired up with ...OK...decent people if not as popular..but what had happened to me was CRAZY,LUNATIC,STUPID STUPID STUPID.i caught Namz and Shenel and shalaka grinning at me. I made a WET-PUPPY-FACE at them. they broke into a loud laugh...almost a roar. i cursed my destiny!
I turned my chair to face Mary. she SMILED AT ME...HER UGLY BRACES SHOWING. her skirt was almost till her calf, hair plaited neatly and oiled, two dumb curls hung loose .... an irritating attempt to look stylish.her socks covered the rest of her legs, her blouse was at least xxxxl and hung loosely on her thin frame. She yelled fashion disaster. I realized i was staring and not smiling so it was rude...so i put up a smile. "Hey"..i said " how are you..um mm have never spoken but ...whose your favorite poet girl? mine is Maya Angelou." that was my first question to my later best friend!Every day i and Mary waited after class to work on our paper. beyond all that after knowing Mary i realized the ultimate depth of knowledge Mary had at this age! apart from being a great human being she was sooo humble about it! i still hung out with my 'popular' group but i felt an emptiness inside. Did i actually LOVE their judging people based on their perceptions? Mary was so sweet ....she never spoke about PEOPLE! i never liked it either? why was i behaving like i did?
The next time i spoke to Mary even during break, hung out with her on weekends to meet cute guys...or just for coffee and cookies..or just for assignments. Mary was so much like me inside i felt...alter ego. Mrs David says you must find one.
She made me be me. that's the biggest lesson for life. I will never forget this lesson. never let people play their games and use you as tools. if you keep judging people ..you will never find time to love them dearly. Mary was way beyond shallow things like make up..maybe. I could contribute in making her a better person and become a better person from her contributions. THAT'S FRIENDSHIP.
LOVE YOU MRS. DAVID.
Thursday, July 1, 2010
the dream i lived in the night seems distant and still.
Today i know is another day,
where i have to face a world of hate.
As i cuddle into my blanket again,
I hear a sweet twitter just at the sill,
i peep out to meet a small bird's gaze.
Quickly flying away taking its flight, as if just there to remind me of life.
A hint of smile on my face.
Going to the window, i feel the breeze,
heavenly sun shining through grills,
the leaves must be making chlorophyll.
i stare at the leaves thinking, what a crazy thought to a days beginning!
my face is lit a silent smile.
My mom's yell to wake my brother for school,
reminds me i have to get ready too.
But the enchanting breeze would not let me do.
smell of coffee brewing hot,
Aroma of the beans.... dark and bitter my favorite strong.
Dad...near the stove..
His loose tee his kind eyes,
crazy hair his sprightly smile.
Life seems so happy..
My cranky mischievous smile is here,
I'm sure it will linger the whole day and for the smallest reason reappear!
Monday, June 28, 2010
The point is where are we headed? Why are we heading there? Is it probably because we have no heads? Yes. Maybe that’s the reason. Why don’t we apply thought to things we hear or see? That’s the reason probably why right from the ‘news’ channels to the worlds’ ‘super power’ everyone is fairly successful in proving that we are educated fools.
What worries me is not the flu, for that’s not much in control, it’s the mask thing. Firstly, as the doctors say, not everyone needs them. Secondly, if you were to get into the vicinity of a victim of swine flu not that the ‘medically green ‘, ‘disinfectant’, looking mask, held not so firmly by elastic; would help. Knowing that, why did we buy it? And more atrocious is the sight of people pulling the mask down and spitting! Yes. Lot of Thought is being applied here, why worry about spitting as long as I am protected by the mask?
Most importantly, what about waste management? Where are these masks going? They are always with you, whether you are wearing them or not. On the streets, in gardens, parking lots and lastly in the garbage bins.
Last morning, as I was walking down the road, I saw her. She is the inspiration for this article and I have never met a better manager. Engrossed in her daily profession she was making sure every piece of dirt went in, including masks lying here and there of course. Her beads of sweat talk what a management degree wont. Who cares? I am going to thank her.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
faraway from petty eyes.
I am the woman i want to be.
dignity is how i feel of myself,character is just what you see.
When the fog will clear , you will believe.
My dream is my power,
The pen will help it flower and then i will always be free.
I am beyond the shallow,
my heart is full of love, never hollow.
joy in every step,confidence in stride.
no man understood my inner mystery,how much he tried!
My eyes do well up at the smallest things,
its my sensitivity dont think I'm weak.
I know i am my only strength,
and for that...i'll fight till my last breath.
Saturday, June 26, 2010
We had always drawn sunrise according to how the chalk-and –board teachers ‘ordered’ us to! If we drew it in any other way we were yelled at! I remember one drawing class where we were told to draw a bunch of flowers. My flower had petals each of different color and was laughed at mockingly by my pals and teacher. How can it ever be forgotten? Little wings of creativity chopped off ignorantly even before growing stronger to fly.
Why are we ‘imparted’ education? One that is impractical at times even irrelevant to surroundings. Why are commerce students still studying the 1980’s syllabus with just a few ‘so called’ reforms and changes that is nothing but grammatical corrections and changes in a few names. Why is a dance graduate, not as important as an engineer?? Why is the world cluttered with MBA’s? Criticizing the system or the people alone would be lame. For education is a process of enlightenment, it has to be a joint effort and using the blanket of blame to cover the very fact that we are not strong enough is of no use. Passing the buck would make no difference. Why do WE accept it? Doing nothing about it, taking what comes along? There are practical difficulties yes, more than one ways to solve them if minds unite.
My inner voice yells at me to stop talking that. It hopes for a wonderful mentor, guru, and leader to change the scene and be that boon of change. Perhaps one of us is that boon. Perhaps someday hope and horizon will be one.
We have to find our original selves, fight for our wings to become stronger, and then the world will see our flight. The world will know that we have a place in it that belongs only to us. Perhaps minds have started thinking, perhaps inner voices are awakening, and hope is coming closer to horizon.
The strength which i live with today,
the mirror of my deeds, good ones i was appreciated for,
and times coming my way.....
There is one person, who helped me make it through!
who made me shine, who moulded me , along with me he grew!
when i felt heartache, when i felt pain,
when it seemed that happiness would never come again!
I remember.......he scolded me, he'd let me cry.....
' you dont always meet people you like, and people who like you dont always tell you!
are his words ..... when i was heart broken , i fell many times,
but this made me......get up and again try!
love is, one of the most important emotions, wherever man goes....whatever he does and even if he reaches the pinnacle of money and fame,
but.......dear child...he still tells me,
without love....all that is just like a label...its just like a name.
Then with a twinkle in his eyes.....he says.....dont believe this because your dad says it,
Venture far, fly with ur own ...still weak wings...
be your own judge ....... in life these things you will see....
And dont be scared to do so....because that will inculcate in you....presence of mind and amazing wit!
I am still to venture farther....m still to fly higher.....but i see that wht u told...DAD... is very true.
I cant thank you enough, for not giving up on me!
accepting my triumphs along with defeats and flaws.......making me be my own judge.......even though at times....through defeat i learned grew!!!
All i would say....
i sought to god for love,
i sought him for courage,
i sought him for hope,
i sought thee and found all three!!!!