Monday, May 17, 2010


One word-mother,
Means the world to me.
All that is soft and beautiful means you, mother.
When I hide my face in your shoulder; and it is soft as a feather
.....and hard as a rock...and firm ...and steady ...
I wonder what makes it so?
And then I know- its soft with all the love you have,
And hard with all the strength you give,
And firm with the commitment that makes me so proud
Of you, mother.
And then I look at your hands.
Working hands, that have held me in the hollow of their palms
And even now, reach out to soothe me...when I feel blue.
You still touch me like I were...
A newborn.
Fragile, like china!
Tenderly, you look at me when you want to say something and I do not have time to listen.
Yes, mother, I can see you deep inside, wondering sometimes,
Whether this wild, independent and outspoken woman in front of you
Is really your little baby, so soft, so gentle, once upon a time?
Mom, People grow up, and become themselves.
But moms will always be moms, mother.
And babies love their moms, mother,
Just like we love you.

Monday, May 3, 2010

losing my father......?

I still have not been able to believe that I will not see my father again- its been three years when we all saw him off on his final journey, but even now, I find him all around me- this is a comforting feeling, but not real- I know it, but dont know what to do about it.
I can hear him telling me what to do when I am confused.... I can sense his displeasure when I do something he never liked.
I find him often helping us out of problems- guiding us when its time to take a call.
I went fishing the other day; and while three times I could feel the tug at the bait at the end of my fishing line, I could catch no fish. I could hear him telling me that this is how it has to be- the three fish had been waiting for me to come by and feed them, though my intention was different, my karma willed otherwise.
When our driver ran away with over Rs 10000 in debt he owed us, I was so much at peace because he seemed to find out and tell me that is was a karmic debt paid off finally- I felt lighter, better, releived.
So tell me- how can I believe that I do not have my father around?

My new dress?

The inevitable dress...............
With winter came the fabric,
Of fine wrinkles and delicate lines, woven together,
Laced with the glow of maturity and grace- and the warm winter fabric enveloped me.
I saw them come,
And in my mind, in anticipation, I saw them retracing with the onslaught of high summer,
When I have seen my body shine with the sweat of toil....
Smooth, wet arms and hot shining cheeks have often embarrassed me
To know what people think ........their minds wander.
But these wrinkles, the couture of the worldly wise,
They mitigate the voyeuristic thoughts that shining cheeks may prompt
And give existence a whole new meaning.
So then, I wait, still for summer to come and drive them away,
The wrinkles I mean;
And once more give me the thrill of shining cheeks and lustily wet arms.
Some stay with me- perhaps they are in love with me already;
Some try to hide, while some actually disappear until the next winter
But I do not miss them..... i wish them far away, never to return.
But they come, and each time, they love me more
Till they take me over, engulf me with open arms
And become mine forever.