reaching out

why did I abstain from calling-

letting my affection go to sleep?

that silver tumbler broke the ice

my thought process turned to you

I remembered our childhood play moods

your goofy attitude, with that smile

spoke to you in my mind

I called out again and again

maybe when that tumbler fell down

your mind heard that clinking sound

folding my hands in grateful prayer

I take down the superficial halo-

we both reached out, mom helped-

I called, you answered, siblings again

"again I hug that silver tumbler

and give it to you, brother"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Some days back, I wrote about one of my brothers, estranged from us. On Monday, I called him and he responded. I went to meet him on Tuesday, along with my mom and younger brother and his family. I think we will be able to mend the fences. I again need your encouragement and support.

lost in our own world

my two older brothers did their sums
my dad watched over them
I, with my pencil, scribbled
in a handmade journal-
my dad had got the sheets,
my mom had bound those-
a line, a few scattered words,
some numbers thrown in-
(in today's world,
those make a password)
likewise my little brother lay beside me,
his nimble fingers fixing a toy car-
each one of us lost in our world
my mom our binding force

(you see, it was love at first sight for us)
I still prefer a pencil,
along with a handmade journal,
both older brothers dabble with numbers;
younger one fixes things,
dad watches over from above-
mom is still the binding force

for my nephew

This goes for my twenty-year old nephew Aditya (meaning the sun), who is going for his management studies, after finishing his graduation in mathematics.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

was it only yesterday I held you in my arms?
a wee thing, crumpled face and wrinkled skin
all skin and bones, nothing else
that did not deter me from falling in love with you
you dad asked me to name you.
boy, was I thrilled?
with whole lot of extended family adoring you
you somehow always turned to me
showing me your first piece of art
you writing skills
along with tears and scrapped knees.
indulgent I was towards you
still you sensed I could be firm too.

time, does it not fly past rather very fast?
now, you have graduated from college
venturing out for management studies;
no longer that wee child holding our hands.
what do I say, apart from this:

"be as extravagant as you can be, with words;
the only weapon you need for today's world"

kindred----Sunday Scribblings

with your glasses in one hand
eyes shut, reclining on your favourite chair
I can still picture you.
only a small sound was needed to wake you up-
maybe you never slept, only did a shut eye.
when I hovered near you
you gave me a much cherished half smile
beckoning with your eyes to go near you.
with three tame sons and a virago for a daughter
I speculate, you had your hands full.
those brothers of mine were buried in books-
this daughter of yours was busy with basketball.
with oversized shirts and baggy trousers
she was a complete misfit.
you let her do pretty much what she wanted
If she had asked for the moon,
you would have got her that,
but for mom, who put her feet down.
such a small woman with so much iron strength
had it been not for her, I would have had cropped hair,
which now cascade down my back almost covering me.
I cringe now for not being the daughter
you both must have wished for-
getting me in the bargain,
who is still confused what she wants in her life.
through thick and thin, you stood by me-
dad, I know know you are still watching over me
to help mom, who has been unable to get rid of me.

I would still be needing you both, and my brothers too-
blood, as they say, always calls out.