Tuesday, November 26, 2013

A Love Letter!!

He had asked her to write down why she had fallen in love with him.Below is the reply.
It could be anyone to anyone, that's not important. 

My dearest darling,

"Why do I love you?"

The most simplistic answer would be that I love you because you love me so much. 

Actually I have never received so much love ever. No one was so besotted ever by me. I never really knew that I could fascinate someone so much. 

You were always the enigmatic one for me, on the side lines, looking on but looking away whenever I turned to you. Never realized you were looking out for me. Protecting me, shielding me and thinking the best for me. It has come as a big realization. I always thought , "Why is he so aloof to me?" I Believed that probably you didn’t like me because I was not that ultra feminine, girly types! Not the quintessential pretty girl! NOT YOUR TYPE!!!!

On the other hand I knew you had something for me. As you now know I also vividly remember the day you held my hand in class, why I didn’t resist was because the touch was electric and I wanted it to go on! You didn’t want to hurt me, didn’t want to let go and didn’t want to lose, and you did manage all three! I think that was the day I fell in love with you because after that whatever you said was the last word! Also that was the day I stopped competing with you.

I used to fantasise that one day you’ll hold me in your arms and put your hands in my hair, hug me tight and pull my hair, bend me down and kiss me hard. lived through 10th and 11th with that! Read it somewhere in an m&B . That reminds me! whenever I read those you were my hero there. But when you left without a word,I thought maybe I was mistaken and should move on(the biggest blunder of my life) and I did.

Now when I look back I realize that although I gave all my relationships my heart and soul, but a piece of my heart was never there, it went along with you. That is why now when I found it after so many years, my heart started to beat wildly again. Believe me in the spectrum of life’s emotions this is something I never experienced. I NEVER REALLY KNEW I WAS SO MUCH WORTH LOVING, SO DESIRABLE ! Probably that is one reason why school is so vivid in my memories.

And now—why I love you now? Because you’ve taught me to love myself, you are helping me find the girl I was along with the woman that I have become. Never in my life have I found someone loving me so selflessly maybe except for my mother. The love in literature that I always thought was bookish is now before me in such realistic manner that I, for once, am flustered. The situation that I am in, combined with my fascination and willingness for you would be something any man in your position will exploit but you stop me every day! And I know it is as much for my sanity as your own. Being moral and upright in this situation is something I have learnt from you.

In fact you give me the best of everything, care, fascination, fantasy and pure unadulterated love and that feeling of being cushioned I had almost forgotten to experience. To tell you the truth I never knew that YOU, loved me so much! And it gives my ego such a boost when I see your msgs flashing on my cell screen and you calling me in the middle of the night. A shiver of pleasure goes through my body when you call out my name, when you call me sweetheart! Its such a blessed joy! That’s why I love you NOW. 

Also you have made me realize rather remember what I am worth. During the last few years I had lost all my sense of worth now I know how to believe in myself, there is still time and I will definitely improve with you at my side. 

Now you are trapped man, trapped in my heart and soul. I keep saying that you have fallen head over heels in love with me ,to tell you the truth so have I. For some time to come I want to live in this dream and then I will make it a part of my life forever. I will internalize you somehow in my system. That piece of my heart you took away will now be replaced by you forever in my heart. Nobody needs to know that somewhere in my life someone touched me and made my WHOLE life worthwhile in such short time.Life is definitely worth living now! 

Finally I know who my soulmate is and I have to wait for him. I Didn’t actually believe in rebirth but now I want to even if it is just a consolation. Won’t let you leave in the next one. If the need be ill hug you tight and tell you in all the words in the world that I’ll die without you and want to go with you.

I love you because you have taught me what love is actually and the subtle difference between lust and love. With you I don’t feel shame, hesitation yes but shame no! and that is the best feeling. It makes me glow inside out.

One more thing although it is grossly wrong but you will have the truth today, I feel soooo good when you say that you love me more than you love anyone else. I know I can’t be possessive but you are mine in a way that nobody can define and now nobody can take you away from me. And this love that I feel can accommodate everyone else in your life. Now I know that I have a special place in your heart that nobody can take. You taught me that, that when you love someone your heart becomes eternally big ,another reason why I love you. 

They are tumbling out, the reasons. Maybe I am getting delirious with lack of sleep and today the lack of you is eating me. I want so much to reach out to you. Have never missed anyone so much in my life ever, but then never loved anyone so much and was never loved so much ! 
love you forever

Sunday, November 24, 2013

Forget Me

Sleeping I heard a voice, it called me,
Waking me, it tugged on my heart-strings

Shrugging it off I switched on the music
Each tune shook me ,one after the other

Have you forgotten me, it asked
No I haven't, How can I, I can't

Forget you? A piece of my heart,
You had it plugged back, its still there

It still beats to the rhythm you had set
My breath still exhales your name

You are a chant in my mind, on-going
You are a whisper in my ear, ever-present

I am yours and you are mine
I'll forget you only when I forget me.

Thursday, October 31, 2013

The Cherry Tree - by the French Window

 White-pink blossoms
On soft dewy grass
The warm wooden seat
By the glowing fire place

Sour-sweet cherry preserve
On hot baked bread
 Juicy golden apples
With fresh brewed coffee

The long French window
Enveloped with Cherry branches
The bright orange sun bathing
A lush forest brighter

The vintage pocket radio
Playing bygone sweet melodies
The musty smell of old books
With yellow dog-eared pages

My sweet pleasures as a child
Come haunting in my dreams
I wake up to the steely city and
The cacophony of the grey jungle

Tuesday, October 29, 2013

Zealot Readers: Once Upon the Tracks of Mumbai by Rishi Vohra

Zealot Readers: Once Upon the Tracks of Mumbai by Rishi Vohra: Title: Once Upon the Tracks of Mumbai Author: Rishi Vohra Publishers: Jaico Publishing house Genre: Romantic Fiction The cover i...

Friday, October 25, 2013

My Treasure Trove

It is my private pain,
Like the blood in my veins
Just my own, my very own
The single silent cry is
Like the shrill down my spine
No one’s business but my own

The dry lonely tears that
 I don’t need to wipe away
Are mine own, no one else’s

Share it ;  I can’t, it refuses 
When I want to, it warns me
I am your own, just yours

"Don’t make me common", it says
"You will lose your treasure trove
I am rare and I am your own

Like the pleasure, my precursor
I bring to you a new world
That is yours, only yours!"

I accept and preserve it and
Let it pervade my body my soul
And make it my own forever.

Tuesday, October 15, 2013

The Deluge

Yes I cried today
I do that all the time
These tears refuse to dry up
They well up at their own will
Stop! I tell them, brushing away
With the back of my hand

Stop! I tell them
You help me lighten up and forget
I want to hold this angst deep in me
I want the heat to burn in my heart
And cleanse my body, my soul,
Like the holy yagna fire

Stop! I tell them
You drown my Self in the deluge
I don’t want to pity me again
I want to find my spine again
You drag me back, you weaken me
Like a wet rope around my ankles

Stop! I tell them
You hinder my journey
I want to rediscover my inner child
I want to laugh, run and shout again
But they still flow, these tears

Stop- they won’t till my eyes are red!

Friday, September 20, 2013

Being Blacky 2

Colourism as I learnt yesterday is the new term to define this widespread phenomenon. Yes!! Its so rampant and world-wide and it affects so many people in so many different countries, societies and strata of life, that it has now been elevated to the stature of being an "ISM" like Racism, Nazism, casteism and so on.

There are variants too- shadeism and pigmentocracy to name a few. 

In the US of A- the dreamland of  many Indians- its prevalent for ages. From the time of slavery, the blacks were an oppressed lot, black women were regarded ugly, dark, dirty, unhygienic, sexually uninhibited all because they were available to be exploited. The epitome of beauty was the Fair, Pink and white, Blonde haired european child- the Shirley Temple prototype. Where did the poor black girls stand a chance with her. The races mixed and there was a hierarchy built up: the darker you were the lower down on the rung you got, the fairer you were and the more privileged you were- Pigmentocracy!!

Would you believe it -they conducted the famous "Brown Paper Bag" test, the fairer the shade you were to the brown bag the better you were in stature- and mind it, this was among the blacks themselves!!! Its a proven fact that lighter skinned people get better jobs, better wages, more privileges and wonders of wonders shorter prison sentences- Shadeism!!

Consistent long term colonialism did the damage in many parts of the world including India. White was pure, pristine, virginal and beautiful and black or brown was all things opposite. The Indians resisted the white culture, stuck to their religion but they never questioned colourism being promoted. This resulted in social conditioning where fair was the criteria of beauty. 

But it will be unfair( I am now losing the context of this usage) to blame the Europeans completely. Didnt we depict in our own culture that Rama(good) was fair and Ravana (evil) dark. It has been prevalent since time immemorial then. Sita was fair, small statured, with long straight silky hair- our own symbol of beauty!!. Even Krishna- the God who had several gopis cavorting with him was depicted as having a complex from Radha his FAIR consort. Who are we kidding here??

Coming to modern times, the icons of Bollywood, fashion and television industry are all fair, with straight hair and they do take the pain of telling you how they got there- by applying fairness creams!!!! Simple!! Aint it??? And we the gullible ones want to be "Fair and Lovely"...how else would we be successful. Ehh?In the process the multi-million Rupee fairness and bleaching industry make a living and thrive on our complexes and insecurities. I say we are at fault not these companies and advertisements..we have given them the fodder to feed on. Its our insecurities and lack of confidence, our prejudice and bias that they are en-cashing.

I wear Red now....and green and orange and purple too...in fact Emerald and Ruby are my full time favourites...be it clothes, shoes or bags. Whatever did happen to make me do that, you would ask. Ill tell you now that I am baring it all.

Love happened!! A handsome FAIR boy fell for me. He was so madly in love with me that I had to elope with him...and believe me I was still gloating over the fact that he was the fairest of them all!!!! That was incentive enough. He made me feel beautiful and sexy and confident and coveted. I dressed in a red saree for my wedding and a darker red for my reception; he insisted and I was complimented so much that I regretted  not having worn it before. 

I was lucky- for once-that he cherished me. I was lucky because he didn't turn out to be an exploiter, though now I realise that anybody could have exploited me, with the state of mind I was in. I shudder at what my lack of confidence could have done to me. 

Then Facebook happened and out came my silent admirers from their closets and nooks. I was so surprised by the insistent likes and compliments on my photos that I thought they were all making fun of me. But Five years and several compliments later I am finally convinced that I am beautiful

This may seem like another rant but believe me its not...All I want is that people around me realise what damage it has caused me. I would like to mention here was it was not as if nobody at all supported me or appreciated me and my talents. All along my mom, brother, eldest maasi, her daughter, another cousin, some really really nice teachers, and some great friends were always there for me. I didn't have to put up a strong defiant front before them. I could be myself and they made me feel loved and desired.

Most importantly I want as many people as possible to realise what damage they do to someones psyche when they explicitly call them Darky, Blacky, Kaalia, Kaalo, kaalu, kallu, or implictly tell them to apply this or that concoction or avoid the sun. Please avoid telling people that certain colour doesn't suit them- its their skin, their dress and their choice. 

Stop  harassing little children regarding their skin colour, appreciate them for their uniqueness. Don't compare. Don't deprecate. It hurts- badly very badly. It damages their self-confidence. It sets them rolling on a destructive journey. It "colours" their ability to take decsions, to pursue happiness.

Parent must never slap these prejudices and complexes on their children. Don't unknowingly make their life hell. Let them be. Let them enjoy all the colours of nature. Learn to appreciate beauty in all its forms and shades and teach universal acceptance to the coming generation. Let them not face this ISM at all.

Being Blacky!!!!

I was merely 10 when I visited the Bata shop  with an older and wiser cousin, a new pair of sandals were in order and my preference was...they should cover as much as possible of my feet and they had to be white...only white...no red, orange or green, not even black. After all my ugly dark feet could not look better in any other colour! Di told me that I should go for Black instead, it was the darkest colour after all and everything will look better against it. Hmmm, food for thought and bingo...the colour BLACK became my saviour.

My own father probably was the one most disappointed with my dark complexion. His wife, my mom after all was porcelain white; how did his only daughter turn out dark and ugly? People used to look at me and say, "She takes after father, her mother is so fair, unlucky girl." No one ever noticed that my face,my features were an apt and (now I know a pretty) mixture of both my parents. Then came years of lathering on fairness creams to make me lighter ; Clear tone, Fair and Lovely, Naturally fair, White Tone; you name it and I can tell you that I have used them day in and day out....it changed nothing. I was still the Kaalo of the family. I want to warn you here that skin bleaching, specially the daily kinds is extremely harmful, even deadly. I learnt of this when a friends father (a pharmacist) told me the facts.

My mom was the only one who didnt fervently want me to grow fair overnight. She repeatedly told me to develop my abilities and work on my talents. She told me repeatedly that I was her prettiest child though my little brother was as fair as her before he became a sportsman . Hard though she tried , she couldn't help me retain my confidence. It was slipping everyday. repeated comparisons with the pretty, fair children of North India specially the sikh girls(no offence meant) ate into my being.  

My dark complexion became the bane of my life. In stage shows, dances and anchoring at school, I saw fair girls being preferred over me, though I had considerable talents in all these spheres. A teacher, they are the worst here, chose me to be the engine of a children train on annual day, saying that I fit the role naturally, blacky that I was. As if I was her pet dog. I cried all day and all night that annual day. when they painted my face black, I didnt want it taken off! EVER!!

It affects your psyche, when aunties tell you to use the Doodh-haldi-besan face pack to get fairer, when an uncle tells you to go dip your face in the Sukhna lake waters everyday to get to at least "dusky" tone and when your father says that Red is not your colour. When the boy you think has a crush on you goes on to propose to your fair friend, who is not half as smart as you, it breaks your heart at a tender age. I had a firm hardset belief right at the age of 14 that I was not suitable marriage material: dark complexion and curly hair- where did I stand the chance ???

This is not prejudice, this is cruelty. This is not discrimination, this is colourism, pigmentocracy. 

to be continued....

Wednesday, September 18, 2013

A Sigh!

My hurt may seem healed 

No more it makes the eye wet

Though a sigh escapes the lips

And my soul cries a silent cry.

Zealot Readers: The Easter Bunny Conspiracy by William F.Powers JR...

Zealot Readers: The Easter Bunny Conspiracy by William F.Powers JR...: Title : The Easter Bunny Conspiracy Author: William F.Powers JR. Genre: Humorous Fiction Age-Group: Young Adult Publisher: iUniver...

Saturday, September 14, 2013

Story Telling; A Fascinating Experience

Some experience are cathartic. Organising a story session for little kiddos was one such experience for me. 
Such wondrous expressions! such giggles! such open smiles! They pierced deep inside me. The little kids were so excited that I could see the animation in their faces. 
It was a collaborative effort with Pratham Books - a not for profit children's book publisher to inculcate and encourage reading habit among the young readers.

The children trickled in hesitating and I too was apprehensive as to whether I shall be able to hold their attention. They were not all familiar to each other but were open and mingled so fast with each other that my opinion about kids being innocent and free of any prejudices that we adults get bugged with, was reinforced.

The story was about Paplu a giant with a big heart, the dacoit Angaar and their travails. The most interesting part for the kids was when they realised that the giant had no clothes and had hidden in the jungle till the village folks made him a kurta pyjama with rags. 

As the story ended they were totally involved and finished the story with a big shout in unison. 

The most wondrous part was that when I offered them coke and some food they took it only after finishing the activity lined out for them: to colour a sketch of the Paplu's kurta pyjama in different colors. Shows how dedicated they can be when they choose to, after all there was the prized book to be won. 

They wanted to read the story themselves, see the pictures and learn new words. I was satisfied that they enjoyed my session and didn't get bored. Also I could see that they were now more open to and interested in reading, the main purpose of the enterprise. 

Definitely a very satisfying and wholesome experience for me. It was a specially appropriate contribution by me as a part of the literary set and a parent on International Literacy day

Friday, September 6, 2013

Validation by the Dalai Lama himself

Couldnt help posting: it so validates my post of today!!!!!!!!

Success and Failure

Who do you consider successful in life and who is a failure?Who in the world sets these standards? How do we set the benchmark?Are these two terms relative to each other?

Now these thoughts might be surfacing in my almost 40 year old mind due to mid-life crisis or due to hormonal changes because up until last year I thought of myself as a survivor. I had been working hard despite the circumstances, making something out of nothing and providing love, support and care to those around me.Having chucked a regular job for the well being of the family- believe me it was crucial- and not having regretted it till date. 

But suddenly today I am confused about it. When I look back at the past years I cannot accept that I have been a failure but when I compare it with others around me I don't see myself as a success too. Gandhi said “Satisfaction lies in the effort, not in the attainment. Full effort is full victory.” 

Is it really enough, making full efforts? Again, how do you know if more effort was required?Is success measured only by five figure monthly income, a big car, a big house and lots of disposable income?And no I am not deriding those who had the potential,ambition and the single-mindedness to have worked hard to reach these levels. All I am saying is that there cannot be and should not be comparison. It should be your own goal, your own benchmark and your own volition to decide. Your own cake to bake and enjoy- depends on you if see how big and beautiful it is or how nice it smells and tastes!! 

Is success directly proportional to happiness?? Are these hugely successful people really happy? They may be or they might not be. Maybe that is not the question after all. Our own happiness is determined by our own attitude towards our life goals. I am happy now as compared to five years back because I have been able to rebuild my life, thanks to some really great people in my life and some good solid friends. I have a house, a car that I drive and some disposable income, not in millions but helps me through my needs and desires.

Maybe now is the time to take another turn in life and try and achieve the material success and status in life, meaning; earn more money, buy a bigger house, own more jewelry, clothes, gadgets, shoes and bags than what I already have,travel to destination holidays and cities. (I really would like the last one. Maybe it is not really material after all!!)

But I doubt if Ill make it, because I lack ambition. I am really happy with the smaller things in life. Like A nice stroll in the garden in my commonplace sweatpants and running shoes...yeah! coz i can still break into a run, sitting in a corner and writing a poem, reading a good book, doing yoga, meditating, eating butter chicken, chatting with friends and dreaming that my child will also be a happy and easy soul like me.

Who knows if Ill be successful ever!!! but happy I am!!

Monday, September 2, 2013

Friday, August 30, 2013

Thursday, August 29, 2013

साल इक बीता बिना तुम्हारे

सुर की समझ तो  थी पहले भी
सीखा तुमसे बोल पिरोना
गीत हैं बिखरे बिना तुम्हारे
साल इक बीता बिना तुम्हारे

हर सू वैसे रंग ही रंग थे
सीखा तुमसे रंग सजाना
अब रंग फीके बिना तुम्हारे
साल इक बीता बिना तुम्हारे

राहें चलती थी तुम बिन भी
 सीखा तुमसे राह पे चलना
मोड़ हर सूना बिना तुम्हारे
साल इक बीता बिना तुम्हारे

जीवन हमको जी ही रहा था
सीखा तुमसे जीवन जीना
और अब जीना बिना तुम्हारे
साल इक बीता बिना तुम्हारे

This is a remembrance for Asheesh Sharma...My closest friend, a pure soul who touched my life in a magical way when I needed it most and an exemplary Pilot in the IAF!! You live in our hearts Asheesh... Souls like you can never perish

Monday, August 26, 2013

My Lone Star

You come to me
A solitary lone star
In the dark unlit night

A piercing sharp ray
With your aural light
Shoots down to my toes

It touches my heart
In its decrepit dark nook
And my soul is all aglow

I still stand alone
full of your warmth
And the night turns bright

PS: I had heard that a poem came to you this one did!!!

Tuesday, August 13, 2013

My Tryst with Yoga!!

Do meditation, yoga or gymming for that matter help you become a better person?

For once in life I have a lot of time in my hand and an urgent need to be fit what with suddenly finding out that I have a thyroid disorder, lo and behold all this while I was thinking that I am gaining the kilos because I eat Kurkure.

Going to the gym definitely makes you fit. One of my best pals swears by the cardio and weight training routine and says Yoga is not for her because its too sedate. Another day I was reading a book by Gauri Jayaram and she also said the same thing, so Payal - you stand validated.

I tried to go to the neighbourhood fitness center too- oh! what a strain my muscles took.My arms still ache when I think of the dumbbells. After the first three months I never renewed the subscription! Not my cup of tea..I like cake with it. 

I found yoga my best friend. It stretches , shapes and tones me while also making me calm and peaceful and hence happy. It gives my day a nice fresh start. Its cardiovascular as well as mild weight training rolled in one. But the best benefit is the peace it brings you. Doing my asansas and pranayam first thing in the morning makes me happy, channelises my raw energy and makes me a better person to deal with (I am known to be difficult person!! Something many people, specially my buddies will vouch for)

And now to take it further I am learning to meditate..tough ask I tell you. for someone who was good at studies but never could never score due to lack of concentration, (Hey! I still always made it to top 5 though and I wish I had taken our yoga teacher more seriously) its sheer torture to sit at one place and close your eyes and try to think of nothing and breathe. But its showing results...for starters I have stopped raising my voice  and I try hard to think at least twice before losing my cool. 

The best thing that this heady mixture of yoga and meditation has done to me is that I don't fight back, I don't argue (now I just choose to glare quietly but intensely at the concerned person) and I have learnt to let things be!! I have learnt to focus on what is good for me and recognise what is bad energy. 

Fitting into my old University jeans of course is the cherry on the cake- (I want a devilishly happy grinning emoticon here :D !!!)

So I want to share with those who care to read me that its plain good- Yoga made ME calmer , more focused and fitter- so many of you can try. Though if like some, you find Gym more fruitful please dont laugh out loud . And i would be lying if I didn't tell you that I do go for a walk-run in the evening (5 minutes walk and 2 minutes run at intervals for only 25 minutes).

So here's to be a fitter and better person!!!

Sunday, August 4, 2013

The Turn

I turn the turn and look for you
Like in the picture-riddle, where
We used to find a missing person
And win the coveted prize

The turn where, walking fingers locked
We had emerged one day, suddenly
From the winding lanes in the green
knowing we had to part our ways

The turn where you told me to go
Nudging me gently on, coaxing
With a touch in the small of my back
And watched till I disappeared

All is still there, the green and the road  
But the touch in the small of my back
And YOU; my coveted prize are lost, 
Yet, I turn the turn and look for you.

Friday, May 31, 2013

Review of True by Melinda Field...

TrueTrue by Melinda Field
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

A breathtaking book! That’s how one would describe “True”. In a plot that resembles life itself, this book takes you on a wonderful journey of birth and death, making you realise the inevitability of both.

Caterina, a teenage girl is forced to leave the city of Phoenix, when her mother is sent to prison for prostitution and drug dealing. She has to go and live with her ailing grandmother whom she has never ever seen. The Green Valley in California is a cold and forbidding place for the young girl who is not welcomed in the small tight knit community. The story describes how racial prejudice and stereotyping brings her life on the edge of a dangerous precipice.

Just then she is taken in by Emma Cassidy , a midwife. Emma and her circle of horse-women friends pull Caterina inadvertently in their close knit sisterhood helping her overcome the life shaking incident and live a secure life. Caterina with her innate strength of character and determination emerges a winner from her ordeal.

The story gives us a touching portrayal of the eternal and deep friendship between Emma, Briar, Lilly, Clare and Midnight and how each faces her own battles of life. An illness makes Briar the ‘Clairvoyant’ and everyone around her becomes a student of life. Lilly and Clare, sisters, have to undergo pain because of their mother who has to live away from them. Additionally Clare finally chins up to an abusive husband. Midnight has her own demons to fight . Emma also sees an upheaval late in life when the old love she had brushed aside surfaces again.

The story weaves these absolutely believable characters and situations in beautiful tapestry. It strengthens the belief in love, friendship and humanity by its portrayal of the lives of these wonderful women who become each other’s guiding light and support. The pangs of loss, the pain of death and the fact that life is ever- ongoing is touchingly brought to fore. The cyclical plot brings takes the reader on a travail of birth and death, restoring the faith in love and life. The language is lucid and flowing. The weather, scenery, animals, farm life and wildlife come alive with vibrant description and imagery.

One can see glimpses of our own life and our own quest for the meaning of it all at many places. That is a measure of the author’s wisdom and deep understanding of life. True is indeed a novel not to be missed.

View all my reviews

Sunday, May 26, 2013

The Raindrops' Song

On my glass windowpane
The raindrops only patter
Now it is all only noise
The symphony has been lost

The tune has long gone
The notes only chatter
Gone with the smoke

The song has vapourised
Some say it is ethereal
Some say it is most abused
Love is only a delusion
No one has ever seen

I had held it in my fingers
Had savoured it in my mouth
Had heard it whispered in my ear 
When he spoke to me in the night

In the twinkle of those eyes
In the corners of that smile
In the throbbing heartbeat
When I knotted the neck-tie

But back then I had also heard
The symphony, the music
The song of the falling raindrops
On my glass windowpane

Saturday, April 13, 2013

The Soul Never Stops or Forgets

A book with yellowed pages
A perfumed handkerchief
A crinkled chocolate wrapper
And the iced tea that cooled
My throat and your anger

A missed call stored
A text message saved
A mail with a picture archived
And the conversation that warmed
My heart and your soul

A song posted on a site
A remedy to cure my back ache
A joke to make me smile
And the finger you deliberately cut
For me to kiss, for you to sigh

A crooked winking smile
A stolen sparkling look
A friendly pat on the head
And the single hug that smothered
Forever, desires mine and yours

Have been lying on my pillow
Each night since you left
Numbing my mind and heart
Making me sleep and start

But today I gathered them all
And poured them in my soul
Believing what Rumi once said
The Soul will never stop or forget.

Monday, April 8, 2013

Fast Money

Fast Money: it is a term largely unfamiliar to our generation and definitely foreign to people before that. It is the wealth generated with primarily unfair means which the young ones follow to achieve a coveted end; their bottomless abyss of desires...

The college going youth these days NEED swanky cars and high-end gadgets like mobile phones and lap tops. They NEED credit cards to pay bills at restaurants and take girlfriends for shopping. The difference here is they need it when they have not still reached the stage where they have earned the moolah

"So what! Our parents have!!"..is the refrain when you try to reason with them. The irony is that those whose parents either can't or won't allow this uninhibited splurging take to unfair means like stealing, fraud, credit card thefts, forgery and even murder.

Being a teenager's mother, I get shivers down my spine when I read news items where young boys steal and sell motorcycles to be able to take their girlfriends to posh restaurants and shopping malls or when to-be engineers with a promising career and ample talent are lead astray to engage in wheeling and dealing with fake currency. Stealing mom's jewellery or raiding dad's pockets is not even considered theft by these youngsters.

Are they solely to be blamed for this love of THINGS and BRANDS? Are they to be blamed for indulging in this rat-race where their clothes, shoes, phone, laptop and credit card limits are the factors that make or mar their image?

No! I think that we are as much to be blamed as parents. It is we, our generation of go-getters who have instilled this materialism in our children. Our parents, those who were born in late 40s and 50s and their parents, worked hard when the nation was re-building itself. They considered it bliss if they were able to buy a TV set and a two wheeler. We got a platform from where we built our lives but we had to make our own efforts and fight our own battles.  In turn we are the ones who were fiercely competitive and materialistic.

This reflects in the way we have brought up our children. Just like our home had to have the best decor, better than what Mrs. Sharma had, our child also had to go to the best convent school in the city regardless that the said school was no longer the best in terms of either results or environment. Then he demanded that he had to go the school in a big-chauffeur driven car because all other children did so and his birthday party had to be at the trendiest joint in the city and we gave in. We didn't mind or did we? After all he was the apple of our eyes.

In progression we provide them with the X-boxes and PSPs and NIKE sports gear and everything that our money can buy. But what we forget is to make them understand the effort, hard work and stress that goes behind dad's credit card limit. We forget to teach them the value of this success and wealth. Is it their fault then that they take it and us for granted?

By the time we realise our folly, it is too late. They don't want to work on their own to satisfy their need and desires. They don't have the patience to wait for their careers to flourish. They just need everything now and here irrespective of the source where the money comes from.

The fire in their bellies is not of ambition but desire and when the fuel from parental sources dries up, as it eventually would , they take to unfair means. Its like an addiction, you have to have the drug- beg, borrow or steel and then they fall in the quagmire of crime to quench this thirst.The line between material success and crime is very thin- crime is the easiest path to achieve it

We as young parents should remember to instil the right values of hard-work, toil and patience in our child.We should, first of all, ourselves set an example by giving up the fierce materialism and competitiveness that we have developed in our generation. The 'comparison' culture should be abandoned. We have to outgrow this attitude.

We should inspire them to achieve the heights that they desire to soar to through rightful means and teach them the true value of honesty and integrity. Saying that, it should not be an excuse for shirking responsibility and not giving them the basic platform and support which nourishes them to have a fruitful and fulfilling life.

Also goes without saying that we should encourage them to be achievers but on their own steam and see to it that they are clever, kind and loving instead of being cunning, mean and selfish.

Friday, March 1, 2013

सुबह क़ी चाय

सुबह सपने में आँख खुली तब
खुद को तुम्हारे घर के सोफे पे पाया
अकेली ही बैठी चाय पी रही थी

तुम तो अपने कमरे में अब तक
सो रहे थे, इतवार का दिन जो हुआ
आज के दिन सोना तुम्हारी ज़िद्द थी

फिर सोचा कि तुम्हे जगा दूं अब
आख़िर एक ही दिन तो है आज मिला 
पिछले कई दिन से तो अकेली ही थी

चाय ले कर तुम्हारे सिरहाने पहुँची जब
तो रुक जाऊं, सोने दूं एक मन किया
मगर फिर थोड़ा स्वार्थी हो गयी थी

गीले बाल तुम्हारे काँधे पे फैलाए जब
तुमने सोई सी आँखे खोलकर देखा
और उनमे कुछ देखकर शर्मा गयी थी

इतने दिन का एकाकीपन छू हुआ तब
जब तुमने अपनी बाहों में भर लिया
और फिर मेरी आँख खुल गयी थी

देखा वही मेरा सूना घर है अब
न सोफा न बिस्तर न ही चाय
स्वप्न ही था, तो ये क्या सोच रही थी