Friday, April 30, 2010

Clear blue sky


image from pcbdailynews.com

What a weak will

can do

with a little help

from friends?

To the parched earth

first showers

of summer

do very little

but mean so much.

I was lost

to myself

in wilderness

of dried dreams

with broken backs

and then

suddenly

a downpour

without warning

swept me

to the edge.

It’s clear

Blue

Sky

Now

All around.



Thursday, April 29, 2010

A little bit of love


Image from creativecitizen.com


The sun has scorched

some and not other

plants on the terrace.

Not more water

but more shade

they ask for.

I am that old tree

on the road

giving shade to

passers by.

I am scorched.

I am free

with a big hug

to anyone who brings

water to me.

What a little bit of love

cannot do?

Wednesday, April 28, 2010

History repeats..


image from: www.worldbazaarimports.com

When he started and kept up barking
at her
I was stabbed to my past -
heartless, drunken with hubris,
insensitive, dictatorial.
And she, a picture of composure
firmly centred, not paying
heed to the commands;
quite unlike mine.
Then he lectures on
the harm done
by higher education
and empowerment.
At least I supported
liberation by word
if not deed.
Here was future
calling
for liberation of the past.
Men too
shall rise
and follow
women on march.

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

The girl on the road in the morning




Image from www.bcnwiki.com/items/view/656

With the morning breeze

float in memories of

Home, far away, distant.

Her pace quickens

with the rays of the sun

to meet the day ahead.

She has to sweep

Wash

Clean

Cook.

Winding her way

through the lanes

she has to mind

the stray dogs

that stir at her footstep.

Suddenly words

drop on her

like a summer shower –

Words spoken in her tongue

in this distant land;


She looks up –

someone her age

but in t-shirt and pants

and shoes, going for

her morning walk,

briskly, talking on the cell

disappearing

in the morning mist.

There is heat

after a summer shower.



Monday, April 26, 2010

Not practical

Image from goldencircle.wordpress.com

Always taunted for
not being practical
I repair appliances
by telling the repairman
where the fault lies.
This morning
I mistook
in the market
gourd for
cucumber
only because
the paper slip was
not written legibly.
It's quite
practical not to read
what you once
wrote
famously.
Poet it is whose
finger moves
on having written...

Sunday, April 25, 2010

Shopping for masks


Image from fineartamerica.com, artist - Elena Malec

You asked me to get
a better mask
for myself
and
I have been shopping.
What will
I do with the old one?
You'd throw it
away,
but who knows?
I might need it again.
I wonder,
if between you and me
we never needed them,
why should I need
one to face
the world?
Shops for masks
don't close.

Saturday, April 24, 2010

Playing God

Image source: fromoldbooks.org

It’s by accident

That I discovered

I am an artist.

I want my work

To be just so,

not a line here

not a line there.

I don’t have time

for others’ ideas

in my work. It’s my

Creation and let me

have the freedom

to do it my way.

It’s a work of art

after all and not

the day’s work.

“All my life

I have swallowed

Your irritations

And carpings.”

Agreed, but aren’t

Artistes to be pampered?

Every detail has to be in place,

if it has to fetch appreciation.

The purpose of art is to

imitate God in controlling

One’s creation. My life’s story.



Friday, April 23, 2010

Sand castles


Image from annamarias7.wordpress.com

Not here,

the mind says

searching for

a stable footing –

it’s all sand.

All my houses

were of sand.

It was fun for

the waves,

for the sand,

for others.

Not for me.

This big thing

About building –

Why not simply

Be sand?



Thursday, April 22, 2010

Walking on water


Image from made-in-china.com

I am stranded this side
not able to reach out
to him and to her;
you are already on
the other bank.
Did you acquire
the power of walking
on water?
Anything is possible
for you -
the milk of kindness
flows
through
your veins.
I check from
time to time
if my heart is
still in place.


Wednesday, April 21, 2010

Get over..


Little Pain flower in God's hands, by Iam Sugahtank on flickr.com

Have I lost it?

I want to get over it

- be done with it.

It’s gone too deep,

you know.

Will make sense of it

later. Let time take

care of it.

I will take care of it

and may pain flower

to bear the fruit of wisdom.

But no more words for now.

Just silence.



Tuesday, April 20, 2010

Pulling down

Image from flickr.com, source: Bains News Service, 1910

It’s the place

that pulled us down

and now

we are going

to pull it down.

A clean break

doesn’t come

easily

to either the young

or the old.

Only a cold

calculating machine

can do it.

But there’s something

out there

and there is some place

in the mind.

Mind is what we carry

and mind is not what

I want to lose.



Monday, April 19, 2010

dolls

Image of New Orleans lucky dolls from www.planetvoodoo.com

What better thing
to do
on a weekend
than
to clean up
your masks?
I took them out
and while
doing it,
a faded
newspaper fell out
too
showing
the faded dolls on it.
A cord floated in
from nowhere
with words
strung into it.
Even faded dolls
can be attractive
to children,
it said.
I couldn't stand
it, but then
one of the masks
said,
hey let it hang
in there;
it livens up
the room.

Sunday, April 18, 2010

Walls

Inspired by Salvador Dali's Persistence of Memory (1931)
Image from www.mentalfloss.com/blogs/archive/6607

They spoke of the injustice

I meted out to them

over the centuries.

“Any history in which

We don’t figure

Is not our history.”

They made it simple and clear.

It’s like all your floors

uprooted and hurled

over back of beyond.

I cling to the only thing

available –

The walls.

All my life

I put up walls

To mark my ground -

My ground.

Here come the yuppies

To question my

Foundations speaking

Some alien language.

They can’t take a location

Ha! There’s no floor left.

I make a suggestion –

Let’s pull the walls down

And see if we can make a floor

Out of those.

The yuppies are still thinking

With their stuckness,

I have become the wallclock.



Saturday, April 17, 2010

Seriously


Image of Synapse from www.insciences.org

Here I was
going through
every synapse
in the brain
to prepare
a short presentation
on
the future of humankind;
there he was asking
if the food would be
from my native cuisine
and if
the audience
would have
a fair
sprinkling of fair sex
- his major incentives.

He had 'finished'
the future of mankind
in a jiffy.

Friday, April 16, 2010

There is this....

There is this thing..
about life
that stops
you from stepping out;
makes me feel
guilty
to miss my exercises,
to stay a little longer
in bed,
to have another cup.
I hear a stern voice
from the past
that says
Miss your meals
if you miss
your studies.
I miss that voice,
for it never meant
literal.

Love and care...
give a little of it
to yourself
and add
a little respect.


Wednesday, April 14, 2010

In the making


Image by Tony MF from flickr.com/photos/ny/2194223982/

The fruit is in the making
even when
it is not seen.
Sometimes the wind
cheats
to blow the tiny one
away.
It could be the clouds
that play truant
to roast the young 'un.
Or the rains
that cause
an early fall.
If it lives to ripen
and fall into your lap
it is truly
Nature's gift.
A gift is not something
you earn by
the sweat of your brow.
It's from a love in the heart
to a heart in love.
Then life is in the making.

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

Ancestors

Image: www.apurposeforlifefoundation.com



I am intrigued

By the sheer idea -

Releasing ancestors

From the psyche

And setting them

on the path of liberation.

I am already lodged

In the deep recesses

of the mind of my

children.

How will I get release

If they don’t even know

I am there?

I don’t buy this,

Not on the 97th birth anniversary

of my father.

He passed away 24 years ago

Tattoo

Image from photobucket.com

Not happy with

The way things turned out

You tried to change

The world.

Nobody took note.

Then tried to

change your ways.

Nobody was interested.

Screamed and shouted.

Some turned to look.

You then got tattooed

On arms, legs, back and

Lower back.

They now feature you

unpaid in their columns.

The ultimate unclaimed

death.



Sunday, April 11, 2010

Opening the door

Psyche Opening the Door into Cupid's Garden, by John William Waterhouse (1904)
Source: commons.wikimedia.org

The heat is getting on to me.

Been trying to open

My mind

With the usual key

Of solitude.

The lever turns

But the inside latch is on.

Never happened before.

Need help – the keys man cometh.

Open I must, it’s now or never.

I will be an outsider for eternity.

There is plenty of help

Coming without asking.

Try another key, they suggest.

It doesn’t work.

Nothing now remains but

to climb up, open the door

to the upper reaches and get in.

I can’t, but there is my Krishna to do it.

It’s so peaceful to be helpless!



Saturday, April 10, 2010

A woman in oasis

Image by Tim Morris www.zianet.com


Power supply went off again.

There was no water in the tank.

We could not run the washing machine.

We waited and when power came again

The water wasn’t sufficient

to feed the machine.

These things happen here

and we are used to it now,

so don’t fret and fume about it.

Instead watch the match on the TV.

My team lost there too.

This morning I chose to read the

newspaper from front to back – after

many years. It only carried

stories of women and their grit,

determination, kindness and beauty.

---

I have never seen an oasis;

I don’t need to.



Friday, April 9, 2010

Philosophy

Image from www.abcgallery.com
Gustav Klimt. Philosophy (final state), 1899 - 1907. Oil on canvas. Destroyed by fire in 1945. 430 x 300 cm.


All our philosophy

of millennia vintage

turns its back

on injustice of centuries.

The lone lama wanders

through the world

attracting attention

to the occupation of his homeland.

There is space for him in our heart,

and we lose sleep if tribals refuse

to make way for mines

leaving their forest land.

We have time for messengers of peace,

for strong men of development,

for weak men hankering after nuclear power

and for middlemen talking weaponry.

We lose no sleep when

Ragpickers’ slums are gutted;

the city got cleaned up.

We have discovered a formula

To get rid of poverty.

Recruit the poor in the police force

And get them finished in the jungles of Dantewada

At the hands of the militant poor.

It’s their destiny. There’s nothing

More practical than philosophy.



Thursday, April 8, 2010

Away...

Image: www.liesyoungwomenbelieve.com

“Everything will be all right. Don’t worry.

Thanks for everything.” Words that put my

Mind to sleep.

Days passed.

He walked away, she chose

not to return.

“Given you trouble at this age”.

“We are with you, my dear.”

Years ago,

She walked away; I chose not to ask why.

Those times I slept well. Now there are

Nights without sleep.

I walk through the day

Telling a hundred stories

To myself,

all with the same ending –

Going away.



Wednesday, April 7, 2010

The ache


Image by Rob Myers from robmyers.org

I surprised myself with this question

to my friends:

‘What will happen to these conversations?’

In another two weeks we would be gone

our separate ways.

The same kind of ache I had felt

After I came out the last time

The Board room in which

I had met friend and foe for

A score of years.

There are many ways of

Assuaging a distressed mind,

They say. But the pang….

Is real. The heart that aches

Is blessed in its throb.

I have learnt not to muffle.



Tuesday, April 6, 2010

In the sky

Image by Richard Jennings from www.shaders.org

This morning the words

rose like bubbles

From the heart

And grew big

And bigger like clouds

till they stretched

beyond the garden,

The tree tops,

The flying birds

to touch the skies.

I clung to the inside

Of the words

And stretched

To become flat.

Then I disappeared

Under the words

‘forgive me’.



Monday, April 5, 2010

Nibbling


It’s so relaxing to

Stop breathing wilfully

And let breathing take over.

Whenever it happens

I decide to do the same

With life

And it takes time

For me to realise

That I cannot decide.

I can only let it happen.

This morning the little bird

Chose to nibble

The tiny flowers

Of the potted plant

in the balcony.

Then it moved away.





Sunday, April 4, 2010

Open the book



Image from www.nichirenscoffeehouse.net

I have opened the book
of my life
to find
some pages faded,
others with
bold footnotes
but none
blank.
Some stuck together
as though containing
secrets.
It's a drab story
sans thrills
and chases.
It always seemed
a life lived in half
by responsibility
ruling the rising
tide of passion.
.....
.....

What's the time like?



Saturday, April 3, 2010

April 3 Softness of clay

Image from www.potteryblog.com

Softness in myriad ways

Outside

But in my heart

I could not touch it.

The human touch

In pain, suffering and compassion,

In assurance and acknowledgment –

For my consumption.

I the potter moulding

The clay of relationships

Until the clay screamed and scratched.

Now I watch the play of clay

In the silence

of the cosmic emptiness

of the pot.