The Awaiting

The night sky an azure blue,
Bedecked with a myriad stars;
The stillness around is but a clue,
Of a time that left its share of scars.

Hark, hear the wind whistling by,
Accompanied by a sharp chill;
In its sigh I hear your cry,
The silence of the night, it does kill.

Clouds move in overshadowing the sky,
Droplets of rain turning to a pour;
The grime, the rain does wash away,
But not the agony of waiting more!

Longest Journey

More often than not, the longest journey is the one that leads you back to yourself!

Tears

There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are messengers of overwhelming grief...and unspeakable love.

Looking back on tears of the past mostly brings a smile, and some times looking back on the laughter of years gone by brings a tear to the eye.

This Moment

If I could but capture this moment and lock it away in a secret vault of my treacherous heart - the crimson rays of the setting sun falling in a sheath from up above through a canopy of rust-colored foliage, casting a beatific glow - this moment that makes me blissfully content, this moment that takes my breath away!

Landing me in hell...

How my indulgence in the seven cardinal 'sins' would have led me to 'hell', if the concept of 'hell' were valid:

Lust: Talk about bulging sinews, intense eyes and perfect smiles – how could I just not lust after such guys *sigh*
Gluttony: Did somebody mention chocolates for breakfast, lunch, dinner and anytime in between washed down with tons of caffeine?
Greed: It all boils down to money and more of it – to fund the so-very-frequent vacations, to cater to ‘grown-up’ clothing tastes – in short the slimy tentacles of greed have entrapped me in its vicious grip.
Sloth: What I do today is probably what I should have done weeks ago!
Envy: Boy, if you are over 5’7” and/or can nap during the day, the green-eyed monster growling at you is me!
Wrath: ‘Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned’ – don’t ever cross me, I might forgive you in time, but never ever will I forget.
Pride: A thin line that demarcates self-esteem and gloating – I might have crossed over to the other side many a time and not even have noticed!

The Nurturer

Twig by twig, straw by straw,
Lovingly builds she the cosy nest;
Not by chance of lucky draw,
Here is the nurturer at her very best.

Day upon day, night upon night,
Patiently lends she all the warmth;
When one day on a morning bright,
The young one born as the egg shells part.

Morsel to morsel, beak to beak,
Tirelessly feeds she the little one;
Whom she to the free world lets go with a peck,
To watch with a tear her baby gone!

Of Angels And Teddies...

A few days back while visiting a friend, I happened to narrate to his three year old niece where I come from and how I live alone. The tiny tot was apparently taken up by that and offered me her teddy saying that it would keep me company when I am alone in my apartment. I thought angels wore pristine white gowns and carried wands and here was one right in front of me with a teddy......

Procrastination

A way of life one could easily succumb into and one that is hard to break away from. If the manner in which things have shaped up in the recent past are of any indication, I seem to have perfected the art of procrastination. Apparently it is high time I broke out of the mould the sales guru Mandino said “To be always intending to make a new and better life but never find time to set about it is as... to put off eating and drinking and sleeping from one day to the next until you’re dead.”

This is exactly why I decided to post this right now from office when I should be in all righteousness ‘working’. In my defence, I just do not want to procrastinate on that front - got to get a start somewhere, right?

Prayer To The Star

The crimson stretches of the sky,
Turn into an exotic azure blue;
As the clouds slowly fade away
My dreams take on a lovely hue.

My guardian star smiling down,
I spot on looking up in bliss so pure;
My lips sent up a prayer on its own,
Wishing all your dreams come true!

Wants

Wants and desires are traditionally perceived as the root of all evil. But isnt it worse not knowing what one wants?

Time

Time is the coin of your life. It is the only coin you have, and only you can determine how it will be spent. Be careful that you don't let other people spend it for you. ~Carl Sandberg

Oxymorons

Something to tickle the funny bone (courtesy an email forward)

1. Is it good if a vacuum really sucks?
2. Why is the third hand on the watch called the second hand?
3. If a word is misspelled in the dictionary, how would we ever know?
4. If Webster wrote the first dictionary, where did he find the words?
5. Why do we say something is out of whack? What is a whack?
6. Why does "slow down" and "slow up" mean the same thing?
7. Why does "fat chance" and "slim chance" mean the same thing?
8. Why do "tug" boats push their barges?
9. Why do we sing "Take me out to the ball game" when we are already there?
10. Why are they called "stands" when they are made for sitting?
11. Why is it called "after dark" when it really is "after light"?
12. Doesn't "expecting the unexpected" make the unexpected expected?
13. Why are a "wise man" and a "wise guy" opposites?
14. Why do "overlook" and "oversee" mean opposite things?
15. Why is "phonics" not spelled the way it sounds?
16. If work is so terrific, why do they have to pay you to do it?
17. If all the world is a stage, where is the audience sitting?
18. If love is blind, why is lingerie so popular?
19. If you are cross-eyed and have dyslexia, can you read all right?
20. Why is bra singular and panties plural?
21. Why do you press harder on the buttons of a remote control whenyou know the batteries are dead?
22. Why do we put suits in garment bags and garments in a suitcase?
23. How come abbreviated is such a long word?
24. Why do we wash bath towels? Aren't we clean when we use them?
25. Why doesn't glue stick to the inside of the bottle?
26. Why do they call it a TV set when you only have one?
27. Christmas, what other time of the year do you sit in front of a dead tree and eat candy out of your socks?

Love As A Choice

Growing up, love always seemed to be a force of nature that sneaked upon you when you least expected it and carried you along it's ravaging rollercoaster ride. Today, it appears more like a choice - a conscious decision to be made and executed on a day-to-day basis even when the object might not be so deserving of amorous affections on that given day. Whoever said that love is blind was lying - love is definitely not blind, it sees all but does not mind!

Real & Surreal?

How often do people revert to some introspection to figure out real feelings, intent and everything else that is 'real' when something seems 'surreal'? Why do we tend to demarcate reality from surrealism? After all, what exactly is 'real'? To me this is best expressed by the passage in 'Velveteen Rabbit':

"What is real?" asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by side near the nursery fender, before Nana came to tidy the room. "Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle? “ Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse. "It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but really loves you, then you become Real.“ Does it hurt?" asked the Rabbit.“ Sometimes," said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. "When you are Real you don't mind being hurt. “ Does it happen all at once, like being wound up," he asked, "or bit by bit?“ It doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin Horse. "You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in your joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand."

As far as I see, whatever is surreal to me is in fact very real. There are some things so profoundly beautiful that you feel truly fortunate to be enveloped by it. Surrealism is one of those things.

Home

Home is where -
one's heart is?
one wants to be?
one completely fits into?
one is wanted?

Well home could be all this and much more. But isn't home intrinsically where one needs to be, however often the destination need changes?

Ripping Off The Bandage - Ouch….

I am not good at letting go of what I hold dear. It breaks my very core to part ways with that what I deem beloved and meaningful in my life. This is especially true of those cherished ones that have been a part of my life for a considerable amount of time.

I have been faced with the daunting task of having to let go of you for quite some time now. Logic dictates that the sooner I do it, the better it is for us. Emotions whisper that I will never be able to replace you in my life – I will never be able to find another that would fit into my being as snugly and as flatteringly as you did. You have stood by me through thick and thin for quite some time now. I found warmth in you during some of the most harrowing times I have been through. I always looked forward to be enveloped by you, to be lost in your hold of me. Things between us have been tumbling downhill at an alarming speed in the recent past and it would be in both our best interests to part without causing each other permanent harm. I could not thank you enough for all that you have been to me and I hope you know that all I ever wanted was for you to be happy and at peace.

I know I should be tearing my object of affection away from me. Time to rip off the bandage so to speak – I am going to miss you so very much, my lovely jeans. I hope the Red Cross people gift you to someone who appreciates your worth!!!

What Dessert Are You Most Like?

Here is the last word of the internet on what I would be in the world of desserts (yeah, way too much time online today).

You Are a Brownie

Decadent and intense, you aren't for the weak-hearted.Those who can deal with your strong flavor find out how sweet you really are.

Beliefs On Sin

I don't believe that things are either right or wrong, either black or white - in my world it's all relative and varying shades of grey exist in between. Religion considers sin to be the estrangement of self from God. To me, if at all there is something that could be termed as 'sin' it is the estrangement of self from self.

Who You Are

To chew upon:

You are what you do, not what you think or say you want to do. Thoughts are a poor alternative for action. Act, don't think!

Mom & Her Daughters...

My mom conversing with her two daughters on settling down in life, "I just pray that you both end up with decent partners that is right for you".
One of her daughters, "I am going to go for the first one that pops me the big question".
The other, "And I am so going to target the wrong one".

Choices

We all make choices on a day-to-day minute-to-minute basis in life. This stems out from the free-will in us that equips one to choose exactly what one wants. There’s a whole lot of discussion about whether free-will is actually a mirage and doesn’t exist as one would want to believe (the book ‘God’s Debris’ deals with this topic) – but that’s something to be dealt with at a later point of time. The choices we make or are at times forced to make could vary in significance and repercussions to as mundane as picking up a cup of coffee the way one likes best to as life-altering as changing one’s line of work. Some choices are deliberate, conscious acts while some are made unknowingly, almost in stealth. Whatever way it is made or howmuchever the amount of importance attached to it, I believe that what lends meaning to the choices are the things one has to let go when one chooses.

Burning Bridges

The warrior moved on relentlessly,
Without looking back, without a pause;
His hair flying in the wind restlessly,
He took bold strides to a new cause;
Discarding the torch in his hand , not sorry,
Burning the sinister looking bridge as one could discern;
The tiny sparks danced in its splendor and glory,
Annihilating the link to a past, to where there is no return!

Have You Ever Felt?

Have you ever felt that...

• Sometimes you are more comfortable in a group of strangers than in a room full of those you have known for ages.
• Sometimes the best conversations are the ones you never had.
• Sometimes the ones who mean the world to you live their entire lives oblivious of you.
• Sometimes the best decisions in life are those you never made.
• Sometimes the brighter the smile on a person's face, the deeper the hurt.
• Sometimes the more you want to forget, the harder it gets.
• Sometimes the better you are as a person, the more vulnerable you get.
• Sometimes the more you want to sleep peacefully, the more annoying the neighbors get.
• Sometimes the more you want to make sense, the more you ramble on :P

Wish Upon A Star

I look up at the skies above,
A canvas of eternal blue,
I spot you looking down at me,
And wish what I wish comes true!

Summer Ahoy

The height of summer witnesses the kids splashing in the pools at parks, the lithe young ones lounging in sun working on their tan, the supermarkets' ice section almost always running out of Magnum Mandel cones (my fave), open-air concerts, bike tours, grill parties a dozen a week, and so on and so forth..... Thats for normal people.

Then there are the ones like me for whom the entry of summer is earmarked by sleepless nights when I shift droopy-eyed from my bed to the couch to the floor and finally with all the finesse of a gymnast balanced on a couple of chairs on the balcony only to be awakened a few minutes later by the penetrating rays of the sun and the shrill voice of the construction workers bemused at the specimen on the balcony above. Just last week when it was pouring cats and dogs, I was yearning for bright weather and here I am ready to trade anything for a cool breeze. Did anyone say something about some grass and its colour? :)

Counter-Attacking Red

We all have felt our blues some time or the other - an occurence more frequent in some than in others. But have you ever felt red - those moments when anxiety overwhelms you and you can't even fathom the cause of those deadly pangs? Well, I am no stranger to that phenomenon and over time have built my defense-mechanism against it. Lula Mae's antidote was visits to Tiffany wherein the sparkling jewels set her mind off at peace. As for me, I counter disguised anxiety attacks by taking off on an endless flight to a world of my dreams - off to the rainbow's end so to speak. Borrowing from the theme song of Breakfast at Tiffany's :

Moon River, wider than a mile,
I'm crossing you in style some day.
Oh, dream maker, you heart breaker,
wherever you're going I'm going your way.
Two drifters off to see the world.
There's such a lot of world to see.
We're after the same rainbow's end--
waiting 'round the bend,
my huckleberry friend,
Moon River and me.

Sunset Of My Life

Well, I am officially in the sunset of my life or so says an online survey that I recently took. Here's what it says:

You Are Sunset

Even though you still may be young, you already feel like you've accomplished a lot in life.And you feel free to pave your own path now, and you're not even sure where it will take you.Maybe you'll pursue higher education in a subject you enjoy - or travel the world for a few years.Either way, you approach life with a relaxed, open attitude. And that will take you far!

Man, I knew turning 27 was the end of the road!!!!!

Dreams In A Box

Perched upon my cosy bed,
An old wooden box on my lap;
Of a color, a deep chestnut red,
My fingers tentatively on its flap.

Caressing the worn out seams,
Reflecting on days when just out of my nest;
Armed with some precious dreams,
That I packed into the vast chest.

Releasing them from their alcove,
The priceless jewels of life's crown;
Letting them fly into the skies above,
To watch them come alive on their own!

Friends Of Mine

Don't we all have certain friends in our lives whom we may not be in touch with regularly, but whenever we get togther its like there was never any distance? I am fortunate to have a few of that ilk in my life. Nothing beats the feeling of getting on the phone once in a bluemoon(its a shame though that many of those are in lands far far away from where I live) and yapping my heart away. Just got off the phone from one of my closest friends with whom I had a heart-to-heart chat after ages. O friends of mine, doomed as you are to have had befriended me, fortunate am I to have you as my buddies :)

Things To Do Before I Die

Things I had love to accomplish before being forced to utter au revoir to the world:

1. Live it up in all the nooks and corners of the world.
2. Build a globally recognised non-profit organisation.
3. Author and publish a book – fiction or non-fiction.
4. Swim with sharks hovering near me :P
5. Cook at least one full meal that is not burnt or inedible.
6. Pilot a jet.
7. Speak perfect Spanish.
8. Have a pet bull dog.
9. Sail across the Pacific.
10. Learn rock climbing.
11. Be out-lived by the perfect family.
12. Be on prime-time television in a segment that does not come under ‘dead’ or ‘missing’ or ‘arrested’.

Lady Luck

Just as the bee visits the bloom,
Sightings of lady luck mesmerising;
Dispelling all traces of murky gloom,
With her signature tantalising.

When into your abode walks she in,
Play your part of perfect host;
But do remember this sojourn,
Is as fleeting as a ghost.

Your royal guest for the day,
Restless to the core though not sly;
Searching other havens in the fray,
Hold her like a bird all poised to fly.

Of Smiles And Well More Smiles!

Smiles have captured my imagination of late. Thats the first thing in a person that leaves an impression on me replacing noses which were a favourite not long ago. Its fascinating how much a tiny cuve of the mouth can convey without the service of words. It is mind boggling as to how many kinds of smiles are prevalent. Theres the cocky smile, the sarcastic smile, the pity smile which I abhor, the shy smile, then the smile that inspires confiding in, the smile with the promise of something more, the wide smile bordering on a grin, the toothless grin of a baby and endless is the list. My personal favourite is the bashful smile, that seems to originate right from the core of one's soul and for the fortunate lot rendered more exquisite if accompanied by dimples. Well, the very thought makes me smile now. I guess it must be the rain outside and the cozy setting that induced this train of thoutght which is quite uncharacteristic of me :)

ADDING LIFE TO YEARS

Turning a year older recently prompted me to think about the delicate relationship between life and years. All of us grow older; we all add years to our life unfailing year after year. But only a fraction of us can claim to have added life to those years, only a select few can boast of growing in life.

Some carry visible tell-tale signs of having grown older in life, but that doesn’t automatically entail that they have grown up in life with the onslaught of years. Some bear invisible scars belted out by the vagaries of life and though seemingly untouched by age, they are the ones who gift life to the passing years. I admire those who fall in the latter category and if years from now my grandkids can boast of a lively, buoyant and radiant grandma, I would consider myself one of those chosen few!

When The Storm Clears Away

The blinds struggled against the wind,
The windows stained by the rain;
The sky without stars rendered blind,
The night’s sighs conveying its pain.


Sleep eluded the fauna and flora,
Never before did it so befall;
Everything taking on a devious aura,
It was the fiercest storm of all.

Imprisoned in the gloomy furrow,
Waiting out for the storm to die;
I hoped for a brighter tomorrow,
Pacing on, too agitated in bed to lie.

The mischievous grin of the sun greeted me,
The stains of the destruction cleared away;
Nature rendered bright for all around to see,
The vengeance of the storm a distant memory.

Colors Of Life

White is the colour of virtue,
It’s so much my soul oh so dear;
Blue, the colour of morrow new,
It’s a harbinger of the day so clear.

Green is the colour of peace,
It adorns the benevolent Mother Nature;
Yellow, the colour of hope to seize,
It decorates the mighty sun’s feature.

Red is the colour of passion,
It talks of love so conspicuous;
Black, the colour of mystery in mission,
It symbolises my being, oh precious!

Essence Of Life

I see the tiny rose bud,
Open its eyes on my window sill;
Promising a glorious red,
As it fully flowers still.

Beings young and sweet,
In the glorious spring of life;
Harbingers of things great,
After many a hazardous strife.

Spring is followed by summer,
And summer by autumn red;
Autumn gives way to snowy winter,
And so is it with life truly led.

Amidst all comes along a being,
Tanned in warm summer early;
Without any dreams of seeing,
Brown leaves of autumn lovely.

The end of the road is in sight,
But no regrets left behind;
It has been a life truly bright,
And one oh so fully lived!

Soul Mates – A Two-Lettered Taunt?

Soul Mates – A Two-Lettered Taunt?


I like the word ‘soul’ and the word ‘mate’ but soul mate? It’s a term that alternately beckons and taunts me.

I grew up convinced there was this one perfect soul mate for me somewhere in the universe and that the cosmos would conspire to throw us together. The problem with the erstwhile theory is the number ‘one’. If you really jell well with someone and it doesn’t work out, does it mean that he was not your soul mate and just a sore loser in the game of ‘My Life – A Glorious Fairytale’? Can there not be more than one soul mate for each one of us in life? Conversely, does one’s soul mate have to be the person you end up with in life? Is it not possible that a friend or a parent or a sibling or a virtual stranger could be your soul mate while the one you are bound to in life is well just a partner?


I am not sure I believe in the concept of a soul mate anymore. I don’t think any one person can know and understand another being perfectly sans misgivings. I still am not fully convinced that life becomes a smoother journey with a companion by one’s side. And I definitely don’t believe that someone else could make me happy. When I am happy with someone, it’s because I choose to make myself happy. For all my pals who are sublimely enjoying the company of those whom they consider soul mates, I am really glad. I am all for love and companionship, but the concept of soul mate is just a two-lettered taunt – a taunt that one has to look outside oneself for fulfilment. Well, so there’s something to chew on, soul mates – a reality or a taunt?

Fluttering Of The Heart

Red hearts floating all around,
Pink toys exchanged all in fun;
Eyes straining to look beyond,
To catch a glimpse of the lovely one.

Flowers, teddies rule the day,
Accosted with exotic chocolates;
None can keep the excitement at bay,
After all it’s the day for Valentines.

Secluded in an alcove I stand,
Watching the stream of festivities;
I though but can’t give a hand,
To be part of all merry activities.

Not long ago did this heart beat,
Every moment for a lovely being;
Today it’s such an arduous feat,
To make it even meekly reign.

Loves mighty say the very wise,
Loves all you need sing the bards;
Without a thought, in a trice,
Can I say these are but flimsy yarns.

There are no fairy-tales in life,
There’s no ideal perfect match;
All you have is your own strife,
Leading through a twisting patch.

The cacophony of life drowns,
Often the feeble voice of truth;
Would one be ever, without frowns,
Led by fluttering of one’s heart, so faint?

Mystical Night

Perched cosily on my window sill,
Eyes on the star studded sky;
Soaking up the night so still,
Thinking of all that I had to defy.

I pined for the arms whose strength,
Encircling me in a safe fortress;
I missed the voice with all the depth;
Which still to me was a tender caress.

People met in the journey of life,
Hailed to be forever together;
Find themselves in a vicious strife,
And end up irreconcilably asunder.

Thoughts interrupted by the early streak of light,
Creeping up amidst the steely darkness;
It was the dawn in its early stages of birth,
With promises of abundant brightness.

As I watched the birth of the new day,
Emerging from the womb of the night so mystique;
It dawned on me that the travails of journey,And not the destination makes life so very unique!

Along The Battle Lines

Arm in arm we tirelessly fought,
Along the war-torn line;
Comrades together bought,
On by the battle of life.

Everyday from dawn to dusk,
Scampering on along the fringe;
It was nothing but an uphill task,
But not once did neither flinch.

Understand each other we did,
Without service of words uttered;
It was a gruesome ordeal when we bid,
Goodbye at the end of war fully battered.

Peace to the world was announced,
As all around danced in abundant joy;
With the memories of blood shed are we bound,
As we sketch our own life’s war story.

Flights Of Fantasy

If I were given wings,
If I had the gift of flight;
I’d fly out of glimpse,
I’d be the sky’s knight.

I have but no worry,
I have but another treasure;
It makes me no more sorry,
It makes me gay with no measure.

To soar up above in the skies,
To see lands of my dreams;
To be faster than time that flies,
To fly over the rainbow beams.

My soul doth make me lift,
My soul with abundant blatancy;
My spirit hath a wonderful gift
My spirit takes me on flights of fantasy!

Do You Speak 'Indisch'?

‘Do you speak Indisch?’ This is the question I often get plagued with when my acquaintances learn of my ethnic origin. Most of my German pals subscribe to the theory that almost every country has one major language comprehended by the whole populace like German for Germany, French for France and so on. Hence, they came up with the moniker ‘Indisch’ for India – a language in which all Indians should righteously be fluent in. Over time, I have tried to explain that there are about 22 regional languages recognised by the Constitution and one national language which not all are conversant in. This proved to utterly baffling for them. To people who fuss that the ‘Schwabisch’ dialect of German is very different from the unadulterated German, I have news - I recently got my facts right that there are infact 1652 mother-tongues in India. So next time someone offers to teach me Italian or Spanish in exchange for ‘Indisch’, I am trading 0.1 percent of the country of my origin’s lingual capabilities to what their whole nation offers. Well, I got the better deal, don’t you think so?