I write poetry when I am sad, mad or bad. Wonder why rhyme eludes me in happy moments. Like probably I would never see a field of daffodils the way Wordsworth did, or a brook like Tennyson danced along with. I can only see the blood and gore of war, the heartbreak in love, a hundred years of solitude and the unbearable lightness of being.
What do I enjoy so much that I could write about. Write a song on the wonderful world like someone in Discovery Channel did. (Watch it on YouTube, "The world is just amesome"... luurve it totally) An ode to the love I can see in certain pair of eyes. A sonnet on my lovely workplace. In the least a limerick on shopping till my bank account goes bust... even a haiku on window shopping.
You know like...
Wonderlands glimpsed through
Lighted windows
A million things to own
If only pocket would permit!
Yuck!
My next poem will be a happy one. Promise.
Orange zest, the very thought brings back memories of childhood! Of life when it was more simple and innocent. Reminiscence. Love. Colours and joy!
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
A moment turned eternity
I heard a voice sing behind me and turned around
I looked into your eyes and in a fraction of a moment
A song became mine forever.
I wished that moment would not end. and it did not for fifteen years.
Now I try to salvage a bit of that infinity in my limited world.
I looked into your eyes and in a fraction of a moment
A song became mine forever.
I wished that moment would not end. and it did not for fifteen years.
Now I try to salvage a bit of that infinity in my limited world.
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Limited Love
I drown in this love.
Wave upon wave lash at me,
Pull me in, as I try to claw
My way out on the shore.
Wave upon wave
Covers my head, finally
Water fills my lungs as I draw
Breath, till I know no more.
Greener trees, bluer skies,
Colours burst out in tiny rainbows
Everywhere my eyes rest around me,
Kaleidoscope, long streaks of light.
Im one with the world,
Beauty in airwaves around me flows,
I stumble again, throw up against the tree,
The birds laugh loud as they take flight.
Its a new world-
You are everything I know-
You are my God, my destiny-
I could give my life for you-
Come, torment me.
Like a tumor come and grow
Inside me, Poison me, Tear me.
I will yet show how my love is true.
Wave upon wave lash at me,
Pull me in, as I try to claw
My way out on the shore.
Wave upon wave
Covers my head, finally
Water fills my lungs as I draw
Breath, till I know no more.
Greener trees, bluer skies,
Colours burst out in tiny rainbows
Everywhere my eyes rest around me,
Kaleidoscope, long streaks of light.
Im one with the world,
Beauty in airwaves around me flows,
I stumble again, throw up against the tree,
The birds laugh loud as they take flight.
Its a new world-
You are everything I know-
You are my God, my destiny-
I could give my life for you-
Come, torment me.
Like a tumor come and grow
Inside me, Poison me, Tear me.
I will yet show how my love is true.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
The cat that loved me
Today my car was smelling of cat once again.
It cannot be of course, because its been days, weeks even, since he travelled, lying prostrate on the back seat, rolled up in towels, set on newspapers to protect the seat from getting wet. His smell used to pervade the car then. I had to open the window and drive for miles to make the car smell a trifle car-like, the way it is supposed to smell.
He was born right next to me; in fact, I would have crushed him if I had rolled over. The mother had hardly met me before so I do not know how she found me trustworthy enough to birth next to my body. He was 'it' then of course, a mousy little creature, naked skin, red, almost ugly, other than that it wasnt because it was a minutes old little cat, Gods creation, the miracle of birth, which I got to witness, and it made me cry. That ugly little critter made me cry out of sheer amazement at the beauty in this world.
Dont really think he knew me at all. For one I hardly saw him after that. Second, he and his brother were growing up, they had all the energy and mischief that little cats have, bounding all over the place, scratching, tearing, falling, rolling. Who has the time for human beings who sit and sip coffee and smile at antics like a matron.
And then he fell from the roof. Not yet a year old, no one knows what he was doing on the third floor cornice. Or how he fell. When he was found, he was not moving. Something had happened to his spine. His legs were not moving, nor his tail. He was eating and his bodily functions were fine. He was probably in shock for days, not showing any signs of pain. We took him to the vet. They were not encouraging, but not discouraging either. X rays were taken. Medicines prescribed. Homoeopathy, steroids... his adoptive parent spent hours drying him with hair dryers and finding innovative ways to feed him the terrible tasting medicine. He showed signs of recovery, moving his legs, twitching his tail. And I kept saying, hell, its a cat, they survive everything.
Then one day I heard that he died. Just like that. When slowly we were hoping he would walk soon, when we knew that he is going his way up the path of recovery, he died, basking in the sun, in his little basket. He is buried under a huge oak tree. He was loved and cared for while he lived, he was cried for when he died. Some humans cannot boast of this honour.
I was not his caretaker. I had not taken him in from the street, so to say. I was just a passive audience to his growth. No one could threaten me into taking care of animals. I do not much like pets. All the extra work! But when he fell ill, he learnt to recognise the car in which he travelled to the doctor. He learnt to recognise me, my voice, as I kept reassuring him, when he would be alone with me. He would purr to glory when I got over my own obsessive compulsive fears and cuddled him. He stopped bringing out his claws whenever I picked him. He started laying his head on my lap when I sat next to him.
And then he died. The only cat that ever loved me. The only animal that ever loved me. And sometimes, I still smell him in my car.
It cannot be of course, because its been days, weeks even, since he travelled, lying prostrate on the back seat, rolled up in towels, set on newspapers to protect the seat from getting wet. His smell used to pervade the car then. I had to open the window and drive for miles to make the car smell a trifle car-like, the way it is supposed to smell.
He was born right next to me; in fact, I would have crushed him if I had rolled over. The mother had hardly met me before so I do not know how she found me trustworthy enough to birth next to my body. He was 'it' then of course, a mousy little creature, naked skin, red, almost ugly, other than that it wasnt because it was a minutes old little cat, Gods creation, the miracle of birth, which I got to witness, and it made me cry. That ugly little critter made me cry out of sheer amazement at the beauty in this world.
Dont really think he knew me at all. For one I hardly saw him after that. Second, he and his brother were growing up, they had all the energy and mischief that little cats have, bounding all over the place, scratching, tearing, falling, rolling. Who has the time for human beings who sit and sip coffee and smile at antics like a matron.
And then he fell from the roof. Not yet a year old, no one knows what he was doing on the third floor cornice. Or how he fell. When he was found, he was not moving. Something had happened to his spine. His legs were not moving, nor his tail. He was eating and his bodily functions were fine. He was probably in shock for days, not showing any signs of pain. We took him to the vet. They were not encouraging, but not discouraging either. X rays were taken. Medicines prescribed. Homoeopathy, steroids... his adoptive parent spent hours drying him with hair dryers and finding innovative ways to feed him the terrible tasting medicine. He showed signs of recovery, moving his legs, twitching his tail. And I kept saying, hell, its a cat, they survive everything.
Then one day I heard that he died. Just like that. When slowly we were hoping he would walk soon, when we knew that he is going his way up the path of recovery, he died, basking in the sun, in his little basket. He is buried under a huge oak tree. He was loved and cared for while he lived, he was cried for when he died. Some humans cannot boast of this honour.
I was not his caretaker. I had not taken him in from the street, so to say. I was just a passive audience to his growth. No one could threaten me into taking care of animals. I do not much like pets. All the extra work! But when he fell ill, he learnt to recognise the car in which he travelled to the doctor. He learnt to recognise me, my voice, as I kept reassuring him, when he would be alone with me. He would purr to glory when I got over my own obsessive compulsive fears and cuddled him. He stopped bringing out his claws whenever I picked him. He started laying his head on my lap when I sat next to him.
And then he died. The only cat that ever loved me. The only animal that ever loved me. And sometimes, I still smell him in my car.
Friday, January 9, 2009
Im in like with Chennai
Another day, another trip.
Attended a couple of parties, went for the staple city center mall visit, evening beach stroll, the rest of it. Of course it wasnt easy still with the baby. She stopped eating the 7th day, and would not take rice... or any solid food apart from chocolates. She screamed for pepsi anytime we went out. It was a regular nightmare, but I must say, this is my second visit to Chennai after having the baby, and this time around, Im a little in like with the city.
This time our Chennai resort visit, (which has become a sort of ritual), came early in the stay. 
We reached on 24th, the booking was for 26th through 29th. We had booked a Rs 6k normal room, but being the festival rush season plus weekend, when we landed, the rooms were all occupied. The people who were supposed to vacate had decided to stay back after all. And there we were, having booked days in advance... Now the only room available was the grand suite, the most expensive on the block. It came at 15k + taxes. And heh heh heh, they of course had to upgrade us for the day... I tell you, it was worth every paisa of our 6k!!! :)) Living room, bedroom, large lcd tv, mini bar, comfy sofas, heavenly bed, and to crown all that, a very personal plunge pool, separated from the bedroom by a glass panel. Oh, how the rich live!!!!
We reached on 24th, the booking was for 26th through 29th. We had booked a Rs 6k normal room, but being the festival rush season plus weekend, when we landed, the rooms were all occupied. The people who were supposed to vacate had decided to stay back after all. And there we were, having booked days in advance... Now the only room available was the grand suite, the most expensive on the block. It came at 15k + taxes. And heh heh heh, they of course had to upgrade us for the day... I tell you, it was worth every paisa of our 6k!!! :)) Living room, bedroom, large lcd tv, mini bar, comfy sofas, heavenly bed, and to crown all that, a very personal plunge pool, separated from the bedroom by a glass panel. Oh, how the rich live!!!! Chennai, at 18 degree celcius minimum temp, was having the "coldest" winter in 10 years. Yes, it was in the papers. So I decided to make use of the "cool" days. Took baby and caught an auto to 
Pondy Bazaar. Nothing like our Gariahat, but the cooking vessel shops were nothing like Id ever seen before. Oh how I wish I had taken some photos, but I was holding a very sleepy and wriggly baby tight in the pre new year crowd. I couldnt possibly... Next time, promise. Got a couple of the local 'ghagra' for daughter.
Pondy Bazaar. Nothing like our Gariahat, but the cooking vessel shops were nothing like Id ever seen before. Oh how I wish I had taken some photos, but I was holding a very sleepy and wriggly baby tight in the pre new year crowd. I couldnt possibly... Next time, promise. Got a couple of the local 'ghagra' for daughter.Attended a couple of parties, went for the staple city center mall visit, evening beach stroll, the rest of it. Of course it wasnt easy still with the baby. She stopped eating the 7th day, and would not take rice... or any solid food apart from chocolates. She screamed for pepsi anytime we went out. It was a regular nightmare, but I must say, this is my second visit to Chennai after having the baby, and this time around, Im a little in like with the city.
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