Monday, June 14, 2010
Waiting
Waiting...
In vain is what comes to mind.
In wanting what I think is right.
In loving to be loved the same.
In hating for everybody to agree.
In missing you while you are still here.
To say what I feel that which you already know.
To grow a day older...to grow up.
I'm tired!!!
- The Dark Knight
Dark Knight
He walks in darkness
Like a knight
Of cloudy climes
Under broiling skies.
Rent asunder by lightning streaks
He speaks
In tongues
And make belief.
Seeking absolution
From a life torn
By disillusion
A Bedouin.Careworn.
Astrology.Philosophy.
Mythology.
Oft traversed in a single day
Holding sway. Give nothing away.
Are there answers
A new destination?
Or will he
Meander like a stream
Forever in a dream
Of his own creation?
Like a knight
Of cloudy climes
Under broiling skies.
Rent asunder by lightning streaks
He speaks
In tongues
And make belief.
Seeking absolution
From a life torn
By disillusion
A Bedouin.Careworn.
Astrology.Philosophy.
Mythology.
Oft traversed in a single day
Holding sway. Give nothing away.
Are there answers
A new destination?
Or will he
Meander like a stream
Forever in a dream
Of his own creation?
Sunday, June 13, 2010
1995. Birth of a Star
A long lashed baby girl, elegant and languid emerged into this world with a blasé yawn. To face travails and joys with equal measures of élan and sheer impishness.
From diapers and mashed purees, she wobbled in a headlong rush towards the next experience with gleeful exuberance. Toothless grins, and bright eyed wonder in place, she ran eagerly through her pre-school years, to emerge into the wondrous world of kindergarten. Her delighted reaction to word games and arithmetic filled her teachers’ hearts with unbridled joy…
Ayesha was born to conquer with her dimples and her sunny smile...
But…bedtimes were war-zones. Fraught with tears, pleas for ‘one more story’ desperately needed sips of water and countless trips to the bookshelf for the favourite music box…the list of delaying tactics was unending!
And that was the beginning of Gubli & Rinky’s Adventures. Born out of a mother’s desperation to send her bright-eyed bushy-tailed offspring to sleep.
Gubli and her puppy Rinky chattered with monkeys at the zoo, watched dragonflies swoop menacingly over the tabby in the tree, and frolicked on the dew laden grass picking up sticky blue flowers on Rinky’s fluffy tail. Their adventures grew more and more improbable with every passing night. And with each telling, they grew more daring, encouraged by Ayesha’s giggles and wide eyed wonder.
On her birthday, Ayesha found a gaily wrapped present and miss spelt card from her nocturnal friends. They were tucked under her pillow, and discovered with shrieks of delight! Surely, as bright as she was, she guessed that Gubli was in fact her mother, but it suited her to indulge her doting parent. Her pretence of gullibility earned her many more Gubli stories in the dead of night!
Another battlefield was the dining table.
Eating was a huge waste of time, when so many delights demanded one’s attention…the bright red and yellow tricycle with the secret compartment (where Ayesha’s treasures found refuge) the goldfish madly circling the bowl in search of a life, the crisp green guavas hanging tantalizingly out of reach…
Mom’s ingenuity came to the rescue once again.
Fish eating was a drag. Bits of bekti were frequently rejected or regurgitated, till the day mom’s diamond ring was swallowed by the giant Fish That Lived in the Hugli.
After that, Ayesha would frantically dig into her piece of fillet to look for hidden jewels, gobbling up the flakes to get them out of the way in her search…
And so it was stories to the rescue once again.
Montessori began with a whimper. When the excitement of the bunny school bag and the bright yellow water bottle wore off, pleas of “maman, I want to go home” pierced the air and her mother’s heart. But within a week, Ayesha sped away from the safety of her mother’s lap to join her new found friends. With pride and the first signs of gender bias, she announced that her girl classmates quit crying long before the boys gave up wailing for their mummies.
The stage was now set for life. The roles defined. Relationships that were to last forever were formed in the playground.
A subtle shift happened. “Maman” was replaced by “Miss Bose” as the font of all knowledge. School holidays were filled with ill concealed impatience to go back to the classroom filled with wondrous experiences. Homework was fun – a link to the world of discovery. Sums were attacked with alacrity. Coloring books filled in with concentration. Life, in short, was exciting!
Sports Days brought nervous fathers to the school lawns. Corporate Lawyers vied with bankers and doctors to win the tug of war that ended with laughter and an undignified heap for the losing team. Knife edged creased formals were dusted off and moms rushed in where dad’s were afraid to tread…the needle and thread replaced the eggs and spoons, while digital cameras busily recorded these moments for posterity.
Stories now gave way to story books, though bedtimes when her eyes drooped with fatigue, Gubli and Rinky were dusted off and brought out again to aid in the sleep process. The world was expanding and Grumpy Dragons, Purple Parrots and Disney characters entered to take their rightful place in Ayesha’s imagination.
Holidays in distant lands - Delhi being the furthest she went as a child - gave her mom fodder for exotic locations. They also gave Ayesha the opportunity to enjoy new experiences, in unfamiliar places. Her imagination ran riot. She began composing her own songs and writing her own stories, rife with intriguing characters and fantastic creatures…
From diapers and mashed purees, she wobbled in a headlong rush towards the next experience with gleeful exuberance. Toothless grins, and bright eyed wonder in place, she ran eagerly through her pre-school years, to emerge into the wondrous world of kindergarten. Her delighted reaction to word games and arithmetic filled her teachers’ hearts with unbridled joy…
Ayesha was born to conquer with her dimples and her sunny smile...
But…bedtimes were war-zones. Fraught with tears, pleas for ‘one more story’ desperately needed sips of water and countless trips to the bookshelf for the favourite music box…the list of delaying tactics was unending!
And that was the beginning of Gubli & Rinky’s Adventures. Born out of a mother’s desperation to send her bright-eyed bushy-tailed offspring to sleep.
Gubli and her puppy Rinky chattered with monkeys at the zoo, watched dragonflies swoop menacingly over the tabby in the tree, and frolicked on the dew laden grass picking up sticky blue flowers on Rinky’s fluffy tail. Their adventures grew more and more improbable with every passing night. And with each telling, they grew more daring, encouraged by Ayesha’s giggles and wide eyed wonder.
On her birthday, Ayesha found a gaily wrapped present and miss spelt card from her nocturnal friends. They were tucked under her pillow, and discovered with shrieks of delight! Surely, as bright as she was, she guessed that Gubli was in fact her mother, but it suited her to indulge her doting parent. Her pretence of gullibility earned her many more Gubli stories in the dead of night!
Another battlefield was the dining table.
Eating was a huge waste of time, when so many delights demanded one’s attention…the bright red and yellow tricycle with the secret compartment (where Ayesha’s treasures found refuge) the goldfish madly circling the bowl in search of a life, the crisp green guavas hanging tantalizingly out of reach…
Mom’s ingenuity came to the rescue once again.
Fish eating was a drag. Bits of bekti were frequently rejected or regurgitated, till the day mom’s diamond ring was swallowed by the giant Fish That Lived in the Hugli.
After that, Ayesha would frantically dig into her piece of fillet to look for hidden jewels, gobbling up the flakes to get them out of the way in her search…
And so it was stories to the rescue once again.
Montessori began with a whimper. When the excitement of the bunny school bag and the bright yellow water bottle wore off, pleas of “maman, I want to go home” pierced the air and her mother’s heart. But within a week, Ayesha sped away from the safety of her mother’s lap to join her new found friends. With pride and the first signs of gender bias, she announced that her girl classmates quit crying long before the boys gave up wailing for their mummies.
The stage was now set for life. The roles defined. Relationships that were to last forever were formed in the playground.
A subtle shift happened. “Maman” was replaced by “Miss Bose” as the font of all knowledge. School holidays were filled with ill concealed impatience to go back to the classroom filled with wondrous experiences. Homework was fun – a link to the world of discovery. Sums were attacked with alacrity. Coloring books filled in with concentration. Life, in short, was exciting!
Sports Days brought nervous fathers to the school lawns. Corporate Lawyers vied with bankers and doctors to win the tug of war that ended with laughter and an undignified heap for the losing team. Knife edged creased formals were dusted off and moms rushed in where dad’s were afraid to tread…the needle and thread replaced the eggs and spoons, while digital cameras busily recorded these moments for posterity.
Stories now gave way to story books, though bedtimes when her eyes drooped with fatigue, Gubli and Rinky were dusted off and brought out again to aid in the sleep process. The world was expanding and Grumpy Dragons, Purple Parrots and Disney characters entered to take their rightful place in Ayesha’s imagination.
Holidays in distant lands - Delhi being the furthest she went as a child - gave her mom fodder for exotic locations. They also gave Ayesha the opportunity to enjoy new experiences, in unfamiliar places. Her imagination ran riot. She began composing her own songs and writing her own stories, rife with intriguing characters and fantastic creatures…
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Home
Monday, May 31, 2010
Loves Labour
Marinated Sole, fragrant grains of rice
A glass of golden orange with shards of ice
Fresh green salads tossed with the desire
That the spark of attraction
Is set on fire...
The table set with lace and flowers
Sparkling crystal under shady bowers
Of mango blossoms in glorious bloom
The voice of a koel fills the air
As it beckons the late afternoon...
Strains of Figaro mask the drum beat
Of his straining heart in the heat
Of quickening dreams
Of awakening hope
Of loves epiphanies...
A glass of golden orange with shards of ice
Fresh green salads tossed with the desire
That the spark of attraction
Is set on fire...
The table set with lace and flowers
Sparkling crystal under shady bowers
Of mango blossoms in glorious bloom
The voice of a koel fills the air
As it beckons the late afternoon...
Strains of Figaro mask the drum beat
Of his straining heart in the heat
Of quickening dreams
Of awakening hope
Of loves epiphanies...
Sunday, May 30, 2010
No more
No subway subversiveness,
No footprints on a million grains of sand
Falling away as you pass by
Erased by the tides of desire...
No trysting birds on bare branches,
Devoid of leaves by the singeing sun
No listening to your heart beat
In time to the rhythm of our love
No laughter to chase away
The wisps of despair clinging to our skin
in the waning moonlight...
No whispers in the dead of night
To melt the granite that is your heart.
No footprints on a million grains of sand
Falling away as you pass by
Erased by the tides of desire...
No trysting birds on bare branches,
Devoid of leaves by the singeing sun
No listening to your heart beat
In time to the rhythm of our love
No laughter to chase away
The wisps of despair clinging to our skin
in the waning moonlight...
No whispers in the dead of night
To melt the granite that is your heart.
Freedom
Freedom, you are
the autumn leaf drifting to the call of the season.
Freedom, you are
the tune forming in a dreamers mind.
Freedom, you are
the paint on a wet canvas
seeking it's own path to redemption.
Freedom you are
a drop of blood trembling on the precipice of a soldier's wound.
Freedom, you are
grains of insidiously shifting sand in a moonlit dune.
Freedom, you are
the mistral's fury unleashed on sun ripened vine.
Freedom, you are
the joyous leap of fish freed from the angler's hook.
Freedom you are
dust motes escaping from a long forgotten tome.
You are the dawn cloud
creeping into the shepherd's croft.
You are the drooping flag that will not fly
for a war that should not be fought.
You are phosphorescence riding the waves
of a turbulent sea.
You are pride
you are joy
you are sorrow
but most of all... you are free.
the autumn leaf drifting to the call of the season.
Freedom, you are
the tune forming in a dreamers mind.
Freedom, you are
the paint on a wet canvas
seeking it's own path to redemption.
Freedom you are
a drop of blood trembling on the precipice of a soldier's wound.
Freedom, you are
grains of insidiously shifting sand in a moonlit dune.
Freedom, you are
the mistral's fury unleashed on sun ripened vine.
Freedom, you are
the joyous leap of fish freed from the angler's hook.
Freedom you are
dust motes escaping from a long forgotten tome.
You are the dawn cloud
creeping into the shepherd's croft.
You are the drooping flag that will not fly
for a war that should not be fought.
You are phosphorescence riding the waves
of a turbulent sea.
You are pride
you are joy
you are sorrow
but most of all... you are free.
One Step Up
Music World is two minutes behind
What a relief - I'm early...
The Spinner hidden in the hurly-burly
Of rush hour traffic on Park street
Comes striding down on his size eleven feet.
But wait...it's but a dream
I'm late and he's about to scream!
"I'm here where are u Eyes?"
With full throated bellow he cries
As I rush down the Rock n Roll aisles
Jumping the DVD and CD piles.
We spin off one step up
To find ourselves a step below
The busy road, people rushing by
And ladies next table give us the eye.
While the waiter waits patiently for a reply...
Coffee? Iced tea? A sandwich for you?
No no, just a small table for two...
Is that too much to ask?
As in the morning light we bask...
Through the plate glass window covered with damask.
You talk, I talk, we both listen
All the while our eyes glisten
With hidden amusement and that something else
That makes you smile and me quite tense
Till of your intentions, I make some sense!
Fish fries eaten, iced teas sipped
Eyes connecting but no heart beats skipped
Off to our other lives we go
To meet again in the morrow
With renewed energies more meets will follow!
What a relief - I'm early...
The Spinner hidden in the hurly-burly
Of rush hour traffic on Park street
Comes striding down on his size eleven feet.
But wait...it's but a dream
I'm late and he's about to scream!
"I'm here where are u Eyes?"
With full throated bellow he cries
As I rush down the Rock n Roll aisles
Jumping the DVD and CD piles.
We spin off one step up
To find ourselves a step below
The busy road, people rushing by
And ladies next table give us the eye.
While the waiter waits patiently for a reply...
Coffee? Iced tea? A sandwich for you?
No no, just a small table for two...
Is that too much to ask?
As in the morning light we bask...
Through the plate glass window covered with damask.
You talk, I talk, we both listen
All the while our eyes glisten
With hidden amusement and that something else
That makes you smile and me quite tense
Till of your intentions, I make some sense!
Fish fries eaten, iced teas sipped
Eyes connecting but no heart beats skipped
Off to our other lives we go
To meet again in the morrow
With renewed energies more meets will follow!
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