Being greedy, in love

Love of two men , I am destined to have,

one bethroted to me first, love came soon after,

Other came in winter, to warm up this ailing heart.

The strong and supportive one has an umbrella upon me,

feet firm on the ground,  an unshakeable pole to hold on ever.

Life could just go on without any hurdle, smooth and forever.

It would be untruth to say, that life had no sharp turns,

but with time ,the bends became more easier and farther.

we learnt a lesson with everyday ,to apply medicine to our burns.

The love ,which came with the children, was pure

with no feeling of insecurity, only sacrifice,

the brightest face of love, am sure

The cool breeze of the other , touched my inner soul,

brought out the forgotten child, teen and youth ,

nourised the heart and helped it to bloom.

This new love showed me, how a heart could be expanded,

with a new lease of affection, it made my mind dizzy,

the love hidden, like a apple stolen, gave utmost pleasure.

This new world created, without taking away anything ,

from the one existing, spoke poetry , taught patience,

prepared me to face life with more confidence

I feel like a river, flowing downhill, with a ferocity that has no stops,

affection in me flows the same way for both of them,

both need me and I need both.

You can say, I am greedy , but in matters of heart , more is merry.

All I want is , to retain , both the gifts.

Are we not living in earth and enjoying the sky?

Does not a river have two banks which never meet?

Enhancer

I don’t know how I found you,

The light in my heart, held the torch for you,

The rare gem,  rarest of all, bright and shining,

You stand out , shadowing rest all.

You have spoken words, brutal and honest,

Loved the use of your expressions and exasperations,

Stressed over the sentences, sighed over the phrases,

Held tears in my eyes,  mostly of joy, few of sadness.

Lengthy praises, are a novice,

Nascent writer in me, sprang out with joy and pride,

Wanted to look at the world, gloating in its kalopsia,

I had to scowl at it, it calmed down, but not without a fight.

My logical head, was trying hard too,

Fighting a losing battle to pride and emotions,

Caved way to your relentless pursuit,

Am a slave of words, how come you knew?

What are you to me?

Friend? Follower?  Feminine enhancer?

fantasy? Fanatic? Fancier?

Devotee?  or just another feeling?

 I am that dope,

That’s addicted to the junkie.

I am that parasite, hanging on to you,

That needs to be fed, all the time, with praise.

Rare gems these are for me,

I will adore my naked soul with these,

I will wear it with pride and without caution,

For they fit no one but me.

I am your addict.

emotional retards

To each his own,

Emotions are always galore,

That unruly dog needs a leash, nothing more;

Some eat all the forbidden stuff;

Some paint to their hearts content;

While some read all that they can find;

Others find their solace in their soft beds, in the day time.

Shopping makes some happy and stable, 

Purses light and partners in distress.

Some watch movies for hours, eyes puffed up, but not yet ready to cry

Some meditiate, pray or even stay quiet for long hours

Whatever we do to keep the dog under leash

All it needs is a little love and discipline.

Some attention and some pecks.

But remember, dear, the leash does none of those.

Whatever is your leash, its your own poison and not a poultice

I miss myself

Wonder what i got, in the four decades of my life;

 collecting different things each time, was I ever full?

first ,was spent in the arms of love, only two instead of four

the second was spent in the years of teen, just  a cocoon

the third was highly spirited, most productive,highly rewarding,

so I thought, till i came to fourth and realised;

whatever gained in the past, aint for the future;

A burden to carry; I should unload, if I care;

Wonder what i got, life still left for, maybe minutes,hours,days or years;

now i feel light and ready to fly;

Do I have the same person inside me?

the one that did all the mistakes,

I really miss me.

let my heart lead the way

In a world full of kickshaws, and gimcracks, I see a true light of kindness,

Let my heart lead the way, lead the way , lead away from stray.

All the glitter and glamour, means nothing, the path of pebbles promises everything,

As the heart keeps pacing, with stars shining, only I can see, I can feel

Let my heart lead the way, lead the way, lead away from stray.

Am moving away from comforts of home, warm fire,

Searching ambers in the cold, living life of a beggar,

Treading on sharp stones, bleeding feet take me yonder.

I turn to see , paradise left behind, smiles of acceptance, familiar scent of the land,

Shades of trees, laughter of the friends, kisses of the lover, life of a queen. Still, I

Let my heart lead the way, lead the way, lead away from stray.

It was just a thought, maybe I am wrong, just a glimpse, maybe I am a squint,

It was just a moment, maybe I am delusional, it was just a touch, maybe now its lost,

Maybe just a chime, but I heard the bells, I felt the coming wind ,

Felt the touch of cool air on my face, that smile I remember, that moment , ethereal.

All I have left behind seems like trinkets, I am in search of a gold mountain.

The fraternity , where I am the core, The heart, where I am the beat,

The fire where I am the water, the wind where I am the song.

The love without the faults , the touch that kindles the soul.

The smile that never changes, the acceptance of my darkness.

The nights so peaceful, that days did not matter.

Have you ever tried, to let your heart lead the way, lead the way, lead astray?

vent

i wish i had a canvas to paint,

my thoughts are so crazy,

maybe it would become a perfect picture

but i cannot express my feelings as they

die away before they reach the shore;

into the sea with no coast.

I cannot sing a song or play a tool

cannot build anything or destroy;

nothing to show the world how i feel;

only way i know is to hold them still

till they disappear, never to appear again

I cannot even share a view or a phrase

it causes reactions, circle again made;

best is to keep mum, and thoughts are meant to evaporate

under test of fire, water does the same.

my laughter is for others, silence left inside me

cannot overturn and clean myself, 

thoughts fall undisturbed. 

the battle of life is within oneself, so they say

but who wants the wars, i just want peace

a lot goes into making a woman

 

Tall, short, fair,dark, fat and thin

dusky or wheat complexion;

a lot goes into making a woman.

She is a daughter, tries to be on the top of her class

gets her parents' praises; never caught in the wrong 

Then she goes to college; is there anyting she doesn't do?

Parents are so proud of her; praises are nothing new.

Then comes the best part, falling in love 

gates to the heart when open, what happens to the mind part;

mind feels heart is weak; mind advises against the deed

Still she goes ahead, as she has read somewhere, care for the heart.

Marriage is totally new game; love is only the cream

when she digs down she finds faults; with one and all

Now the mind laughs; Did I not warn you earlier sweet heart;

Do as I tell you; mind takes over the heart.

Love is left far behind; even the trace is lost

only thing that remains, is the warrior at heart;

battles are fought, wars are lost; arguments are used

only the memory is enhanced.

Life is a bitter struggle for her

No friends or enemies live near

she wants to be left alone for ever

Thinks, that will solve problems for her.

Such women, who forget love, what do they do?

They cry bitterly over past errors; I feel though

wife to some one they can never be;

All they need is another woman, a wife maybe.

Don't get me wrong; Don't wonder I don't belong;

There are other women, who are born,

who excel in nothing at all; but they do no wrong 

sometimes they too have good times; mostly they just pass along.

They too fall in love, their minds too send them warnings

They too listened to their heart and go ahead in their journeys

Marriage for them nothing different; they are wise ;

as they dont expect; they make their walls, homes.

They keep family together; they don't want any enemy within

As they work in their workshops, insults as tools and intellect as waste

they hone their minds, sculpt their heart; 

pains taken to get a beautiful art.

when I wondered where i belong?

I was thinking how I had evolved

Is it the fault of the woman; who was left undone?

Is it the fortune of the one; who adores the walls.

A lot of events applies to one and all,

A lot of strokes hits us along,

The fury of the events are for all

Sun and breeze do not distinguish at all.

Some trees grow and bear beautiful flowers

Others wither when young:

Some spread fragrance within our heart.

Some only become fences of thorns.

Don't get me wrong; I am a feminist too

Sufferings of a woman, should never be condoned;

But when misery is thrown around, by a few;

stop the plague, kill the disease, as it will definitely spread around.

left the hills behind

Cool breeze, Kiss of the sun, smile on my lips

I know I have left the hills behind.

Yesterday was another mile away,

the thought ,  a relief to me

Today I have a lot of see,

fresh energy and life given by Thee.

I was tied to a pole, beaten to death,

emotions within me, hurting like hell

I thought, Why do the people I love

Stopped to care?, I despaired.

I just wanted to help,

I just wanted peace

I just wanted to give my heart.

I just wanted the distances to heal.

I cried to You, Oh My Saviour,

Told you all my faults, my deeds

I was urging you to act fast

not knowing, you were already on the job.

You sent me people who care for me

reminded me; to see where my head was

I was a cloud in the sky, gravity revealed

that my feet are still on the floor.

Its not a given rule,

people you love should stay that way,

they should love you back;

there are others who have earned you.

As I think of today with pride,

I know how I have left the hills behind!

Krishna .. my fixation

I want to write a treatise on you,

As you hold the ropes of my life,

Playing with it, enchanting me as you do,

Your stories, always a juvenescent elixir.

Please tell me, how was this skill bequeathed?

Who taught you to drive your devotees to victory?

All I know is you are a cowherd, you are just a rustic.

When did you become so elegant?

You are a lover, you relate to the woman’s mind.

When did you learn the art of politics?

You are just a boy, who grew up among curds and butter.

How could you melt all the iron fists?

You are just a flautist, who sang to animals in the forest,

How have you mesmerised the lofty five to play your tunes?

You are just a dark skinned misfit, who grew up away from riches

How did you make a princess kill the demons for you?

 Teasing the Gopikas all day, you must have  learnt the art of lying.

As you were herding the cows, leading came naturally!

 And the time you spent loving Radha, you mastered the art of negotiating.

while you were playing with your friends, you learnt the art of warfare.

You were a prince, but you grew up like a pauper.

You could have had whatever you wanted, but you only asked for curds and butter?

Company of few cowherds and love of the poor.

They all saw you as a friend, lover, naughty son and mischievous boy.

My limited mind cannot understand.

Reveal to me the fascinating journey of your life.

Reveal to me all the secrets you have not told the darlings of the Brindavan.

I have listened to your stories many times.

I want to know more.

Was there something you learnt in the brindavan?

Have you kept secrets from your own scribe?

I want to know more.

You were so busy in brindavan,

Always being naughty and playful.

Always making little girls cry

And their mothers unhappy.

Always stealing and running away

Never allowing even your mother to tie you down.

What can she do? Poor Yashoda.

She was no match for you.

She thought you were an errant child.

Always felt guilty  to punish you

Always kept an angry face, when all she wanted was to cuddle you.

She was fighting all her emotions within her.

Suddenly you left her and became a man

How could she understand you?

Now tell me, Did you really do all that?

Or you sent another Krishna to brindavan?

Did you silently go away to learn the life of a king?

Did you learn politics posing as someone else?

But you are Krishna, you can be anything.

You are the lord, you can see it coming.

So

I want to know more.

I , me and my word

I wait for these moments, when I can write,

When I can feel the words like the river in spate,

When I can feel the fire glow from within,

When I can do nothing to let it fade away,

When I am forced to write the thoughts within me,

I am shut off from the world that surrounds me,

Kids can yell, husband can glower,

Milk can rot, or just boil over,

Food can wait, am thirsty not for water.

These are my moments, these are my world

Words words and words, they come out , as if they are running a race.

I cannot afford to build a dam, and seek out at a later time.

They don’t come, even if I cajole them later.

They are not there, when I am lonely and lost.

I wish I knew the trigger, I wish how to on the switch.

They appear from now where, just not caring, if it’s the right time.

It could be a picture, or just a painting.

It could be word or a friend smiling.

It could be an abstract gesture or just a touch.

The sluice of the heart just opens,

The feelings tumble down, for the words to hold.

Don’t see me then, I am a mad woman,

Running hither and thither, angry with the chores am doing,

All I want to do is to continue the writing,

Fire burning in the mind, or the heart, (always confusing).

I struggle to tame the spate, but they seem growing.

I start with a thought, and write the opposite,

I start with an emotion and end with a moral.

I cannot decide how to begin, am in no control of its end.

I have to search for words, in my limited mind,

Or use the google, to confuse my  thoughts.

I try all the tricks in the trade, write what I want to write.

Sometimes I am a sexist, sometimes a whore.

Sometimes I am a saint,  sometimes I am just a lost soul.

I am that, whatever I am writing then,

But you will never know, who I am,

Because as you read, you will read with your mind, not mine.

Luncheon

Sitting in front of my laptop,

Musing about the day we had,

Only friends can get together like that

Have all the fun and still share happiness

The conversation was fed,

By humor and laughter,

Stomachs were filled, and

Hearts, satiated.

Life is such a mess, and

Provides us such lovely chances

To select our friends.

We can lay bare in their presence.

All the looney things we do,

We say over and over again

We love, hate and ignore

We forget and start over, once more.

All the people in our life,

Are treated with lots of spice.

With friends they are discussed,

Marinated and fried.

We do right, we do wrong.

We are nice and then we are not.

We don’t understand ourselves

But we still hold on to our friends.

Varied hues of life, varied shades of colour

Some come mature and some come coy,

Some lugubrious, some unburdened.

All part of the picture, all look perfect.

We can curse or praise,

We can approve or please

We can tear each other apart,

Or love till the last blood drops.

We are we.

No excuses. No explanations.

With friends we are alive

Otherwise we would be only living.

The Mother

The call was the usual one,

She just called to say hello,

I thought, should I pick up now?

Or deal with her nonstop chatter, later.

It was a mother, no, not mine,

What will she tell me now?

I am busy for her, Oh she can’t see.

It’s so inconvenient to me.

I picked the call, my heart told me,

Maybe she wants to share,

A grief, she recently passed.

Say a few words, sorry and let it end.

I was doing her a favour,

My ego told me so, wow!!!

What an idiot it turned out to be!!!!

Listen to the call and u will know.

"How are you dear?" she asked first

"How is your family?" after a pause.

I was waiting after reply,

No third line was coming, she had stopped.

It’s going well, I thought, Let me

Now cut the call, answered her

And not knowing when, or how

Was on the path of a dialogue.

Losing her son, her most beloved one

Who grew up, literally under her nose,

A very handsome, intelligent one

A God's truly gift to his family and ours.

She lost him not recently, a decade ago

When he was hurt in an accident

Paralyzed head to toe.

He lived, though, if living is breathing.

That also stopped finally, one day

When she was telling her prayers.

He left all of us. Alone she stood,

She grieved on behalf of all of us.

She told me on the call today,

Never shed a tear, my dear

All of us have to go the same way,

It’s the soul’s journey, never your way.

Treat people, not as your father,

mother,brother,sister,son or daughter.

They have come only now to be,

But their souls are always older.

It is the soul inside you has to see,

Check if the soul is happy where it needs to be

The body will perish, will decompose and decay

But the soul remains unharmed, intact, to stay

Only selfish people cry, when their near ones die,

What gain will the grief give, for a body perished?

The crying is only to satisfy your selfish need

To cover your insecurity, to know you are being missed.

Come away from mean minded ness,

Pray for the soul, it needs your assurance,

That it can depart, it needs to take 

A journey, which you will never know.

Hold the souls close to you,

Respect them as they do not belong to you

Love them as you have nothing else to offer

Treat them; like you are them, they are you.

It is true; we are all bound in a tight rope,

We will never leave this binding,

Never leave anyone hanging,

We are blinded, that is also true.

It is so difficult, I managed to whisper,

How can I not be attached?

My family and some stranger

How can I see as one and all?

Take the words of a grieving mother, she said

I am not talking wisdom, with my

Stomach and hearts filled.

These words are uttered by a lonely soul.

You have to practice and practice hard,

Life is not going to give you a second chance,

Be always prepared, Do good to all,

Your loved ones will get a windfall.

We are born for a reason,

 Live for the same,

We put together everything, not knowing

We don’t even own a name.

We work day and night,

Take our loved ones for a ride,

Earn money and fame,

To feed this skin, flesh and mane.

Treat all your loved ones,

All souls belong to Him.

He is the owner, you are the carrier

Behave like a good borrower, it’s just a loan.

After I kept the phone, I decided,

I am never going to cry, for the departed

I am never going to miss my mother

How can I? When I just spoke to her.