Monday, September 15, 2014

Roots of Silence

what is silence, i wonder,
certainly not an absence of sound,
for these valleys are never really quiet.
silence is not what the ear perceives,
it is what the heart sometimes feels.

Essence of company

i sat all alone among the meadows,
none near for a company,
then my eyes saw a hundred flowers blooming,
my ears heard a hundred bees buzzing,
and there were the trees, the valleys,
the clouds and the flowing mist,
yes, i sat all alone among the meadows,
or so i thought.

Infinite Shades

how many shades of green are they,
as many as sunbeams on a sunny day.
god must be awfully good at math,
for he fits in more numbers,
in this tiny square inch space,
than can ever fit into my head.

Friday, July 18, 2014

Parched Flowering

there are these plants in the desert, some type of a cactus. they remain just below the sandy surface for most part of the year, sparing themselves the searing heat above.... but at the first hint of rain as the raindrops soak the sand, they emerge and flower....most delicate and beautiful flowers.

felt a bit like these plants today.

the rains finally reached us and i flowered in sheer relief.

Thursday, June 12, 2014

The Celebrity Gates

and just like that,
with no warning or much ado,
i stood before this shiny gate,
all glitter and gold.
it bade me fondly to enter,
and as i reached to push my way in,
i spied a tiny slip tucked in a crack,
on it was written, in letters black,
"for all ye who enter,
here and henceforth,
a spotlight shall relentlessly shine,
every step, every word, every gesture,
fair game, to be twisted as it pleases,
for shallow perverse entertainment.
no respite, no refuge,
this world a gilded cage and you the prized lion."

as my eyes read and widened in horror,
in my mind images formed,
of lost freedom,
of lost true friends,
of a lost life that i loved so much,
and yet, i also saw,
the gained power of reach,
of my new ability to really change,
of being heard by those that need to listen,
of listening to those that need to be heard,
of being who i always wanted to be,
to be the change i wanted to see.

my extended arm paused a bit, hesitating,
my mind tossed and weighed.
"now you know", it eventually said,
"what to beware and what to treasure,
what to dwindle and what to kindle.
so thus forewarned, my dear,
go forth and push through,
for our destiny eagerly awaits."

Sunday, June 8, 2014

Lessons in magic

a little girl, her eyes lit with hope,
away from the withering gaze,
of the world's jaundiced eyes,
her world still cocooned,
in the warmth of her father's arms,
'i want to learn magic', she cooed.
her father, smile crinkling his eyes,
held her tighter and said,
'magic is in your heart,
its in your soul, in your smile,
how does one learn,
what one already knows?'.
the little girl thought a while,
furrowed her brow, pinched her nose,
'then teach me how not to lose it',
she simply said.

Wednesday, May 7, 2014

At half the speed

more time to see,
more time to think,
coffee goes stone cold by the last sip,
its life at half speed.

pauses get longer,
silences less daunting,
meals are more then just about the eating,
its life at half speed.

less of running after,
less of wanting to reach,
a journey where you see things go by,
its life at half speed.

like a potter molding clay,
like an painter filling a canvas,
its more about the how you do,
and not just the what,

living more, living deep
at half the speed

Togetherness

journeys.....
paths that we walk together,
sights that we see together,
feelings that we share together.

journeys......
finding new friends
reconnecting with old ones
building a new world, together

journeys.....
looking through the other's eyes
getting a new perspective
creating a joint view, together

journeys......
its all about 
the sharing
the caring
and the showing, together.....

Gossamer tales

not the tips of a feather,
nor the ends of an eyelash,
not the diaphanous silk,
nor the condensation on a glass.

not the translucent new leaf,
nor the wispy link of a spider's web,
not the petal of the purple lily,
nor the snowflake on the tip of a tongue,

the most delicate thing on earth,
is the existence of peace,
it takes no force of nature,
just a steely look,
or a misspoken word,
the merest hint of threat,
and its gone......

Word of God

in my favorite corner chair as i sat,
with sunlight streaming upon my back,
i patiently waited for a brilliant thought,
something that was like the word of god,
that which will not only impress,
but also away take your breath,
a thought so pure and so divine,
that tears of joy to your eyes it shall bring.

i waited and waited and waited some more,
yet no brilliant thought to my mind came,
and then just as i began to give up,
a small tiny thought crept in,
and in my head it gently whispered,
its not a brilliant or a stunning word that she awaits,
even the most simple and the mundane word will do,
as long as from the very heart it is said.

The sun and the songbird

a sun beam butts against the glass window,
looking for a way in,
the chirping of the songbird,
it too wants in,
a sweet sound and a warm touch,
both in a race to nudge me awake.

i feel alive and aware,
and quietly i am reminded,
of this Chinese proverb heard long ago,
just keep a green tree alive in your heart
the sun and the songbird will on their own come....

Whispered nothings

the wind wafts through,
bringing faraway lands into my room,
the chimes jingle in joyous welcome,
the leaves of the potted plants wave,
and the wind, puffed with pride,
brushes past my eager ears,
whispering messages it has carried,
a fond goodnight, a chirpy good-morning,
a wistful half-awake late night sigh,
i think i know whence these messages came,
i think i know who whispered them,
so i slowly close my fist,
and to the trapped wind within,
i too whisper my secret messages,
excitedly the wind rises off my open palm,
and to you it swiftly runs.

Thursday, November 14, 2013

Terrible Dinner

My mom loved to cook. And as kids when we were all still staying under the same roof, she made sure she cooked for us every single day. And we loved her cooking. Dinners were special affairs. All of us sat together and ate. There was much animated discussions and laughter and licking of fingers and wolfing down of delicious food. One day, as usual I took my place on the table and reached out for the dinner. And I realized something was wrong. Very, very wrong. The food looked awful. The sabzi was all messed up, the rotis burned, the daal all gooey. Salad was missing. And I thought what in the heavens was wrong with mom. I looked at her, her eyes were down. I got upset. I looked towards dad and he was taking food in his plate as usual. What was he doing?. He was behaving as if nothing was wrong. He even began eating. I couldn't believe my eyes. I was so sure he would be upset with mom too. This dinner was terrible. But he just carried on eating. He even made the usual queries about our day and shared how his day was and all the usual stuff. I really wanted to yell at mom for ruining my dinner, but since dad was all normal and all that I too kept quite. Eventually the dinner was over and I raced away to the bathroom to wash, almost certain that I might barf all it out. However even as Ii raced away I did notice mom reach over to dad and quietly apologize for the bad dinner. Dad just smiled and said that the dinner was just fine. I had no clue why he said that.

Later at night as he came to wish me goodnight I brought his face close to mine and asked him in a whisper why he didn't get upset with mom for spoiling the dinner so badly. He looked into my eyes and gently said, 'Son, a bad meal has never really hurt anybody, but harsh words have killed many a spirit, broken many a hearts.    

Musings, Teenage Parenting

The moment a teen feels she is in control of her life, she will begin to be responsible. But sometimes just giving that control too is not enough.

My parents had given me immense control and freedom over my life and yet I remember how I kept pushing the limits of that freedom. Much later, as a parent myself, I often asked them how come they were so comfortable with me having all that freedom and clearly not making the best use of it. They would say its not that they were always comfortable, but when they were uncomfortable they just did two things very well. One, they persisted with their resolve to let me have the freedom and two, they hid their disappointment from me.

In our impatience, in our hurry to get things done, we are all too keen to let our disappointments show. And in that lies the reason why sometimes our teenage kids feel they don't really have the freedom we say they do.

Friday, November 8, 2013

Wind Talks

On a trek the one this that is almost always with you is the wind. It blows, it swirls, it swoops and it drags. Its also interesting how good a mimic the wind is. It makes all sorts of sounds. Last night as i lay in my tent it flapped my tent in such a peculiar way that i really thought someone was walking about just outside my tent. And the other day it rustled through the pine needles and all of us thought we had found the stream we were so desperately looking for. Then again sometimes you think someone far away is playing the flute, or whispering a love song or lamenting a loss, but if you listen carefully its just the wind blowing and doing mischief. The softer the wind the more the mischief. The stronger wind is loud but it had no range and no mischief. One night as i slept among the jacaranda trees the wind slowly blew thought the blossoms, tinkling lightly and singing me a sweet lullaby.