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Monday, June 3, 2013

The music of the rain..

The warm red of the dusk seeps through me
As I soak in the rays through the dark clouds
The darkness slowly descends
and the first drops of the blue rain fall
They soak me in eternity of hope
they embrace me, and envelope me
with the warmth of existence
without any conditions, any judgements
they make me a part of them
As my salty tears get mixed with them
I loose myslelf in the music of falling rain
The time loses all meaning
and I stand with my hands outstreched
moving with the unknown rhythm
It doesnt ask any questions, It doesnt give answers
It just soothes me, makes me forget
the road ahead is blurry, unknown
and I don't want to see what's ahead
I just walk slowly, splashing the muddy puddles
laughing with the tired green leaves
It washes away my footsteps
and walks with me, helping me
make my own small paths in the darkness..

Thursday, May 23, 2013

A thief is born...since its a girl child!



One of the common saying in India and China is guess what,
“A girl child is a thief”

Another saying of Indian culture is.
“Bringing up a girl child is like watering a neighbour’s tree”

Sample another of our sayings in religious texts
“A son needs to be born here, let a girl child be born somewhere else”

I know this is a often repeated subject, but this is just an outpouring of angst, reignited because of an award winning documentary on girl child..the only similarity between India and china is when it comes to female foeticide or infanticide..India’s sex ratio is at 941 and guess what is for china..close behind 944..

I am a girl, and I have a right to life..the most fundamental of all the rights in the world, yet that is the one that I am denied. I laugh when I realize the irony of it, for I am the giver of life on this earth and I am the one who is not allowed to breathe. Over time, my parents have got new innovative ways of killing me, and I am made to sleep in the womb forever.



But sometimes I wonder, what if I had survived? A life of discrimination, of being a burden? At first I didn’t really understand why the preference for my brother, why was I made to leave school, why was I not allowed to go out after dark, why was there always a sarcastic remark when I asked for something, why was I said to be someone else’s property?


But then as I started understanding they were doing me a favour by killing me early..otherwise I will be raped and killed, with such unbearable pain, to teach me a lesson for daring to live my own way, or I will be traded in the dowry market worst still I will be burned alive..these are just some of the situations where I still get peace in death..

Just sometimes I think..why dont I have a right to live, to live with dignity..Are there any answers??

Wednesday, May 8, 2013

What is it?





The shy smile for unknown reasons
The silent giggle for the strangers
the warmth of the farway horizon
as it seeps into the very being..
is that it?

The whispers of the mystical breeze
The rustling of the old yellow leaves
The songs of the falling raindrops
And the myriad patterns of the dark clouds
Is that it?

The questioning looks at the mirror
And the splashes at the puddles of water
The multiple glances at the colours
And the heartfelt prayers..
Is that it?

I don’t know what is it
I fold my hands and I bow down
To utter a humble thanks
For letting me feel all this
Whatever it is..
For it connects me to me
And above all to you..

Monday, April 22, 2013

Delhi's unsaid, unheard, unseen tears!

Hi, this is for my city, that I belong to..yes whatever maybe my roots, as every delhite is asked to, I belong to the city!! This is for the pain I experience every day when I hear about the crimes happening there, and how I want to sit on the soil and comfort myself...

You know me as 5000 years old, I have been the capital city, I Have seen wars; seen blood being shed; I have been destroyed and rebuilt. I have cried and tried to comfort my children, tried to tell them I am for all, I don't differentiate. I have seen my child yamnua dying a slow and poisonous death, however hard I have tried yet its my children only that have killed their life source. I have borne many pains but these days I am unable to bear anymore, the soil which still hadn't turned red will turn so now..

I don't understand such savagery, atleast savages who fought wars had a purpose, even if it was as vain as gaining control of my land, but what are these modern day savages doing? What did those innocent souls do to harm them, why oh why please answer me, for I have become old now, why did they rip them apart? For fun? for pleasure? in anger? I cry and cry, and still cant understand..can you answer?

I already carry the burden of being capital, of having borne the weight of those for whose wishes thousands have died, but now my face is covered with my own hands, I cringe when I hear my children saying that they dont want to live here, I feel ashamed that I have not been able to protect my beloved daughters, who fought courageously and I shiver when those savages walk on me, how many such are there? how much burden do I need to carry....

Long ago I had thought, that now the barbarism would stop, that now I would give shelter with my gentle tress, would play music with my warm breeze and would comfort my tired children when they sleep on my moist mud..and all I am doing is soaking the blood of my daughters, the music is of their screams.. I know I cant look them in the eyes..but all I want to say is..I am not the land of savages..I am the land of history, of dreams built like indraprastha and of hope like the qutab minar..dont turn your back on me..I have lots of love to give you..but yes I cant fight those savages..Yes I am ashamed they touch my soil..I wish I could swallow them..yet I hope one day I dont have to see my daughters brutalised..that I one day I finally can rest in peace!

Monday, April 15, 2013

A short love story!

Hi! This one is a sweet love story that I was fortunate to hear about from a very special person, my grandmother. Everytime I see, read or hear stories of apathy, of people being violent for no apparent reason, killing, raping other human beings, I think about this incident and it pacifies me and strengthens my belief that love does heal!!

She sat cross legged on the sofa engrossed in watching the family drama on the TV, her soft white hair framed her face beautifully, her dark brown eyes sparkled with mischief behind the heavy glasses that clouded her vision. She acted as if she didnt care, yet every two seconds she stole glances at the ever so still door. Today was something special, and she had dressed for the occassion, her orange sari with the dark green border contrasted well with her pale skin. She had worn the watch that he had given her 50 years back, it didnt work but it had her initials carved out which touched her skin everytime she rotated it.
The clock was about to strike 1, she noticed ruefully, her grandson would come anytime now..where was he? why did he had to go to meet someone today only? he would not even remember the occasion..but that was nothing new..she smiled to herself, but it was these things only that made him so special!

He waited outside the door, unsure whether to go inside with the gift in his hand, what would people think? He is almost eighty now, these things are for teenagers, yet everytime he saw her he felt like he still was one. What was about her that was so special, that still mystified him, even after 50 years. he straightened his blue kurta, which he had worn specially for the occasion, combed whatever was left of his hair again and rang the doorbell.

She opened it with the smile that had captivated him for all these years, he gave her yellow roses her favorite. she asked with childlike enthusiasm where is my gift?, "I haven't got any" he teased her, when she started to walk away, he held her hand and made her sit alongside him, I have something very special for you, that i have not been able to give you for past 50 years. He opened his wallet to take out an old worn out letter and read to her,

"The first time I saw you along with my brother, I was captivated, I wanted to hold your hand and say there only that I have fallen in love, before that I had not known what love was, what it felt like, but looking at you I realized it meant that all I ever want to do is to make you happy. I know i can only offer you a life of hardship, but trust me I will work to my level best to ensure you are happy and above all I will love you enough to see you are never sad. I hope you like me too, otherwise I wont know how to live.."

She was already laughing before he even ended, and he was angry, you dont have to make fun of it, I know it sounds stupid but..she took his worn out hand in hers and said quietly," You also should know a secret, I have already read this letter, my father had decided against the match, but your younger brother made me read this and I realized I wanted love more than my comforts..and after 50 years today I am glad of my decision, I have never said this but I like how they say it in movies.. I love you" and she blushed and rested her head on his shoulders...She had married an unknown stranger who was her best friend even after 50 years..Love does happen and it does make lives better..it survives against the odds and against and it does make the world a better place to live!!

Thursday, March 21, 2013

Musings of a failed romantic

I look out of the window of my rickety bus as it moves along the dusty road to an unknown town. I have no luggage and no destination..yet I am on a journey to discover what is it I want.

I have gathered the broken pieces of my heart, offered them on a platter to a stranger who threw it off again, and again I slowly gathered them; this time with even finer pieces.they hurt me more but they are still mine, to be polished again so that the edge goes away.

Failures have made me stronger, but did I need be? somehow the heart replies a thumping no, it whispers to me, "I have had enough, can you please let me be, I have always loved with all my might, i cant do it or i dont want to do it, will you please let me be?" The head reasons, "No no, this is the time to be, lets work on things, you dont worry I will make it alrite, I will set this, we cant lose just like that, I wont give up, you rest while I will work, ok" But this time heart does cry out, "Enough of this, I wont take it anymore, I give up..."

The bus continues to pass the warm yellow fields ripe with mustard plants, they sway to the musical tones of the breeze, it is as if they are dancing to each other's presence as they embrace. On the tree the cuckoo bird starts singing to add to the music; the eternal romantic in me wakes up again, "how can you give up on something as pure as love, without it you are just like the endless road..." I hunch up and wrap my arms tightly around me.

My nursing healing heart speaks out again, "Why do I need to be stronger, why do I need to be mature, I loved my innocence when I trusted people without thinking, when I loved without thinking of endings, you have made me mature so that I dont cry, so that I understand but you know what I Dont want to, please let me rest..I need to sleep for a long long time...."I feel the tears rolling down while my head warns me against them.but this time I let them be.. 

 

Thursday, November 29, 2012

I have...



I write and delete, write and..
No words are formulated as I think
Random, abstract, mystical
You are there right beside
Yet you are so far away
And all I know of is,
I have tried to run away
I am scared of what I feel
What can happen if I let it be
Yet when I close my eyes
And the silent whispers are uttered
You are in all my prayers
And I just want to say
Before I go away
Into the unknown mysteries
That you fulfil me,
You make me feel what is meant to be
Its for you that I can write
Something that I used to laugh at
Its to you that I would say
So that I have no regret ever
That I love you
With all my heart
Don’t know what tomorrow holds
I wish you find somebody that
You truly love,
I have had that feeling
And I know I cant hold on it
Just once more, I have loved you!