Lease of Life

I was going through a really dry spell with my writing. It became non existent. 2017 was extremely rewarding year for me. I started my Ashtanga Practise, made new friends in class including the celebrated travel writer / journalist Bishwanath Ghosh. It is solely on his encouragement to revisit my writing, and to drop my fixation with rhyming verses, that I have genuinely had a poetic harvest in the last week - yes WEEK.

I hope this is not a Gemini thing, churning out a storm only to have a drought for the next few years....

The Has Been

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Ask the man who,

Was once a hearthrob

What hurts more?

Having been loved?

Not being loved at all

Out of work

Out of love

No faith in himself 

He shares the fate

Of the bankrupt man

He once called producer 

The (Fading) Star

He sees himself 

His many versions 

Multiple times a day

Romancing different women

So beautiful like gleaming jewels

Fighting frightful villains

Menacing, vengeful, intolerable

He lives many lives 

Many more roles

Has died many deaths

Soon will be a had been

The money has been made

The fans have been birthed

The star that shone brightly

It's soon to fall on earth

Story Teller

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The lists lie unticked

Breakfast remains uneaten

Chai gone cold

Me, you and the stories you spin

Are all that remain

The Writer

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The gentle breeze 

On the nape of my neck

The coolness of the sheets

On my resting belly

I gazed at my companion lovingly

Unable to peel my eyes away

Immersing my soul 

Into his very being 

Unable to turn away 

To rest, to eat, to leave 

His side, his story, his book 

This happens every time I read.... the world around me stops existing

Tick Tock

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The clockwork didn't impress

Neither did the Lego like buildings

Nor well oiled mechanised life

To be alive amidst the dead

Only filled my spirit with dread....

In Another World

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Where gardens are sprawling

Groves are abundant

Glistening streams gurgle 

The sun shines just enough

The breeze blows gently 

Time stands still

And this place is reality

There is no money to be made

No deals to be cut

Life is leisure

Poetry is survival

Envy

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She reared its ugly head out

Seeking the umpteen faults

So minute as the braces she wore

In that bright smile of hers

Staring at her face

Shining with youthful cheer

Her hands trembled with anger

Itching to shred the picture 

She held of her younger version

An emotion so strong sometimes we feel it towards ourselves 

Writers Block (again)

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Like the crumpled papers

Strewn around me 

Crumpled I lay on my desk

Hoping my words will unfold...

Family

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Mother, father, 

Brother, sister

Add to it marriage 

And it's baggage

Of a menagerie

Delicate it is

Complex it is

Thriving yes

In its own chaos

Mosquitoes

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They followed me 

Wherever I went

My feet moving

They moved faster

Nothing stopped them

Relentless souls 

These fearless fellows

Swarming in hundreds

Swelling my dancing feet

Compromise

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It's all for the best

You will see for yourself

A little adjustment

Goes a long way

In earnest love

You said to me once

Little did we realise

I will never be me again

Being

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Same, same 

Different different 

With each other 

With ourselves 

Common status

In love 

this came about a day before the supreme court did away with article 377.... poetic justice indeed!

Gratitude

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He sees in me 

What I can never see

I am someone else 

Unknown to me 

But much better

Dedicated to my dear friend BG, for helping me come out of my dry spell... 

Pick Up Time

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Wide eyed, dirty faces

Sweaty brows, toothy grins

Relief written all over 

Pleasures of pick up time

Something I look forward to every single day. 

The Times We Live In

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He frolicked in the bathtub

Tap spewing nice fresh water 

How cute, what fun, innocent

They couldn't stop admiring 

His chubby toddling form

When in the kitchen

As she washed vessels 

Unable to bear her own stink

She wondered if her own 

Would see such a day? 

Yoga Teacher

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Upturned, twisted, bound

Flat, contorted, face down

His gentle touch and words

Unleash my soul into being

Dedicated to my yoga teacher, who just has to be present for the toughest asana to achieve sthiram and sukham

Attraction (again)

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Between the jaalis and rails

Walls that separated us

Clearly it didn't take much

For attraction to follow....

Daughter

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Do you love me

She asks me

A hundred times

If only she knew

That's all I know....

Oh L, if only you knew baccha...

Social Media Life

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Photos, holidays, occasions

Practised smiles, matching clothes

Profile poses, thumbs ups, peace signs

Our soulful gazes 

Against stunning views

A hundred comments

Two hundred likes

Our life approved!

Life as we see it..... on social media

Strange Notions

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Is there beauty in sorrow

She wondered in disbelief

When she woke up alive

After her comatose sleep

Impressions

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The sparkle of the diamond,

Resting on the dusky nose

Seemed to pale, when

Our eyes met, and 

I went blind in love

Impressions .... What we notice first and what leaves us speechless.... 

Attraction

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 I spilt my thoughts out loud

As if by deliberate accident

It did the required damage

He turned and looked at me

A smile spread on his face

As if knowing my intention

Imagination

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It is in words like this 

A life is lived

That which is not destined 

But which is desired ....

The luxury of imagination

The Feeling of Awesome!

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I am trying to put a finger at what exactly awesome feels like. These are the feelings I have loved and enjoyed at those particular moments. I think they come close to being awesome - a word that people now use a bit too much that it is scary to describe something genuinely awesome as awesome. Its almost become a cute!

The feeling of touch down when I was moving back home
The feeling I experienced walking the streets of Rome
The excitement of being a soon to become bride
Enjoying the Indian Ocean during low tide
Each time my daughter makes a funny face
Each moment when I revel in my silent silent space ( a rarity)
The mornings after a good night's sleep
Striking a bargain for a bauble that's steep!

This Morning

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I wake up when its still dark
There is silence all around me
Except for an occasional doggy bark
It is so still that I feel what it is to just be
I sometimes lie awake reveling in this quietness
Like a comforting blanket, familiar, I rely on
I know it will be there daily, it is endless
even if tomorrow you and I are forever gone
It waits, it stays, it turns up day after day
the same silent, beautiful, comforting, promising
to a hundred dreams from night she makes way
my eternal friend this early morning......

I love waking up early in the morning when it is still so dark..... I feel so alive then!

Working Progress

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Should I write because it's the only craft I know?
Should I write every time I feel high or low?
Should I take every single emerging thought
design it prettily and with a pen soon jot?
Should I be inspired by everything I see?
Should everything mean the world to me?
That more poems like these I write away?!
Oh much better and less contrived I pray!

...... after a long hiatus..... I hope to write more often..... Poetry gives me something that nothing else and no one else gives me.... an ability to make myself happy...... but does that mean I should always write?

Where inspiration I find
My words I somehow lose
I also sometimes lose my mind
A situation that never ceases to amuse
I tear up my numerous digital pages
And save many drafts
Poems in many stages
trial and errors of my craft!

there we go two in one. Ek ke saath ek mufth mufth mufth!

Guessing Game

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Whats this burning need to know
what is to come later but right now
the gender of my baby in my womb
through a hundred old wives tales I comb
I caress my belly by calling out names
judging the response hard and lame
I think the gentle nudge for a girl
but definitely boy for the resounding hurl
I finally hope, pray and think it's best
to leave the result to time's ultimate test!

Cannot believe its three plus years since I blogged a poem. Obviously much has happened since :-) A small musing over the pleasant memory of spending many lovely afternoons at my parent's house, marveling at the wonder inside my tummy, hoping it's a girl, but never too sure. :-)

They

He - he was so smart
he had a brain in place of his heart
She - she was so kind
she had a heart in place of a mind
and They- they were perfect
one made up for the other's defect

Was telling S he was born with two brains and no heart and I was born with no brains and two hearts, and thus on a rainy Monday, we made this song together :-) The first of many to come

Summing it up

It isn't about what's not spoken
It isn't about what's not done
It's in the promises not broken
and abundant love filled fun

.... Yes that's pretty much how I describe it!