foundations of wonder-------unpoem

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illusion shatters fragile
glass of courage, breaking
foundations of wonder

leaving nothing to ponder
about, other than staring
straight ahead. tactile

feelings are light and agile;
trajectory of which is moving
beyond house of yonder

still foundations of wonder
hold glass of courage, mending
illusions which were fragile

"now as hard, as strong as diamonds"

what does one call it?

her emotions clash with rationality
of you which analyses each of
her changing expressions

she spurns your slow seduction
turns away hiding herself
from your discerning mind

yet you strip her to her core
observing her brain map
dissolve into your thoughts

when she heats up to you
you step back leaving behind
a debris that is not her any more

why should you even care your
voyeurism into her- took a toll



Lately I have been writing most of my poetry without any punctuation. I don't know if it works or not. Nonetheless, with rawness of emotions, I consider those redundant. The purists might not agree with me. But then, how do you define creative expression? Does it is have to be restrained and constrained? As with stripped bare emotions, nothing is, at least for me.

making inroads into I know not what

orbs of your eyes suck me into it
I follow that unknown path
in a zombie like state
making inroads into I know not what
if I could write words on the sky
I would at least try that once
but this untread road is one way street.

"believe me, I don't wish to get out of it"

deeply in love with dracula’s daughter

I know it is not a ballad but it does have a story!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

strolling in the graveyard
with roses in my hand,
along with the fog rolling in
for her tryst with sin;
a banshee screams,
in my nightmarish dream.

deeply in love with dracula’s daughter

creatures of darkness
what music they make.
life in the night, most don't know;
lives in the shadows, which light throws.
terror runs deep where murkiness falls,
thirst never quenched from hunger’s call.

deeply in love with dracula's daughter

never could fathom
in my wildest dreams.
life has its own course, it now seems
it follows only its own whims.
I cannot but help whom I love;
I cannot help that she thrives on blood.

deeply in love with dracula’s daughter

unmindful of what others think,
I trudge along towards my queen,
our nuptials to be held on halloween.
I look forward to good times ahead
but vampires in love with her, are sad
as I would be calling dracula, dad.

deeply in love with dracula's daughter

the very thought of her
love-bites after twilight;
her scratching nails all through the night
her bloody kisses just before dawn,
her writhing body against my own,
just stop short of driving me wild.

deeply in love with dracula's daughter

spent history narrowed down------------unpoem

defencelessly gazing down
at the shreds of her own mortality
she stood her ground
trying to understand her deathwish
history did not allow her to narrow it down
"spent" seemed invincible in her case

"when she thought there was nothing left,
it came back to torment her"


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

I know it is too dark. After I drew a complete blank for a week or so, I could only manage to write this. I am contemplating leaving writing altogether and deleting my blog/s. I am not saying I will do it. I have truly hit a low after a long time. I have nothing much to offer other than despair.

*Update: I am unable to keep up with my writing schedule. Everything seems to have gone haywire. Problem lies on my personal front. How do words come when my heart is not in it and my mind refuses to write? Despair is a mild word for what I am undergoing right now. I know I will come out of it. I just need time. Away from myself. Is that possible?

piece of charcoal split into splinters

nucleus stared me in the eyes
almost imploding on my face
I sat up with a start
turned left, instinctively

piece of charcoal split into splinters
burning ones did cartwheels
bellowing curtains caught fire

when lights came back
I had been sketched into the walls
permanently etched there
my nudity staring at you obscenely

"don't you think death becomes me?"


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

I needed to get back to this kind of dark poetry. This what I feel comfortable to write. I think I will give love poetry a rest for sometime to come. And posting without editing works best for me.

from the palms of my hand, you stand tall

the hassle concentrates the imminent famine
tree
hotel
rant
narrative boils down in pointless clue
opposite a hypothesis runs his cryptic column
can a poison strain
can the alliance dance
overtone
inherited odd
degraded urgency
false mythology
those seldom work in alliance
from the palms of my hand, you stand tall

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

I took those random words and sentences from any where I could find those and arranged them. I did add and delete a few words. The last two lines are my own. Does it make sense? I think I am no good at writing surrealistic poetry.

sleeping dreams---Transcreated Work

Variation On The Word Sleep

Margaret Atwood

I would like to watch you sleeping,
which may not happen.
I would like to watch you,
sleeping. I would like to sleep
with you, to enter
your sleep as its smooth dark wave
slides over my head

and walk with you through that lucent
wavering forest of bluegreen leaves
with its watery sun & three moons
towards the cave where you must descend,
towards your worst fear

I would like to give you the silver
branch, the small white flower, the one
word that will protect you
from the grief at the center
of your dream, from the grief
at the center I would like to follow
you up the long stairway
again & become
the boat that would row you back
carefully, a flame
in two cupped hands
to where your body lies
beside me, and as you enter
it as easily as breathing in

I would like to be the air
that inhabits you for a moment
only. I would like to be that unnoticed
& that necessary.

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

Now read my version:

sleeping dreams

so you sleep so peacefully
uncaring that I watch you
those eye lids moving along
with your tremulous dreams
your nose flaring a bit
the rise and fall of your chest
I subtly put my ears to it
picking up your heart beat
I sway to the rhythm of it
I steady myself and
my palms slide over you
your skin seeps ecstasy
into mine. closing my eyes
I join you in your dreams
adding some of my own..

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

Hers is very good.And I deliberately did not write about the specifics..

hot summer thoughts

After going through the poem Argument by Elizabeth Bishop, I penned down the latter. Our poems are in no way similar.
However, I wrote what my thoughts were after I read her work. I won't call it transcreated work.

Argument by Elizabeth Bishop

Days that cannot bring you near
or will not,
Distance trying to appear
something more obstinate,
argue argue argue with me
endlessly
neither proving you less wanted nor less dear.

Distance: Remember all that land
beneath the plane;
that coastline
of dim beaches deep in sand
stretching indistinguishably
all the way,
all the way to where my reasons end?

Days: And think
of all those cluttered instruments,
one to a fact,
canceling each other's experience;
how they were
like some hideous calendar
"Compliments of Never & Forever, Inc."

The intimidating sound
of these voices
we must separately find
can and shall be vanquished:
Days and Distance disarrayed again
and gone
both for good and from the gentle battleground.

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

Now mine:












hot summer thoughts

dreaming of waves lapping at my feet
I walk on the asphalt road
hot summer seeping slowly from my feet
to my torso, finally reaching my head

exploding into my solitude thoughts
in my memories, I trip on the sand sculpture
destroying one of the limbs
to dust, or is it sand?

I wouldn't know, the hard aspalt
does not give an inch. pain,
it does not come close to loneliness
that eating into the core of my guts

my open palms touch the air
to catch a whiff of your scent intermingled
with mine, essence of which you stole
by arguing with your luscious body

"Solitude I seek, loneliness you enforced on me"

Random Musings

Summer vacations are already half-way through. This year May passed very fast for me. After moving to this new place, I had a lot of work to do. Both for myself and my mother. Frankly, my mom does not like any one to do anything for her. She is very independent and hates it when we try to help her in any way.

I seldom talk about my mom. I tend to focus more on my dad and my brothers. One reason is, as I and my mom live with each other, we take each other for granted. Most assume that my mom is living with me. To set the record straight, I live with her. I can't insult her by saying otherwise. I don't deny that being with her gives me a secured feeling. Although, I don't say it to her. Living with her is not as peaceful as it sounds. She is fiesty and at times I feel I am having a roller coaster ride. One can't really predict what she is going to do next. I am the tame one!

Most of the times, we are arguing about everything and nothing. I suppose that is very normal for two very strong minded invividuals. I have been asked if it makes me uncomfortable not getting my own space. On the contrary. I know she is near me. I can take care of her when it needs be and most important she sees to it that I do not neglect myself. She is the one who pushes me to limits. To do my best. To go for what I believe in. In no way, she invades my space. We let each other do pretty much what we wish to do. However, we do discuss the pros and cons and then take our own decisions. I also know that if I decide to chuck it all and go off somewhere, she would be the first one cheering me.

I respect her for what she is. She taught me to be truthful, no matter what. She taught me be independent. She taught me to live my life the way I want it. I love her for what she is. It is because of her that I have a smile on my face each morning.

can't you please reopen the portals sooner than later?

I find that interpreting works of poet in ones own way is creative too! I like transcreating. This time I take The Lonely Street by William Carlos Williams.







The Lonely Street

School is over. It is too hot
to walk at ease. At ease
in light frocks they walk the streets
to while the time away.
They have grown tall. They hold
pink flames in their right hands.
In white from head to foot,
with sidelong, idle look--
in yellow, floating stuff,
black sash and stockings--
touching their avid mouths
with pink sugar on a stick--
like a carnation each holds in her hand--
they mount the lonely street.

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

can't you please reopen the portals sooner than later?

since school closed
mornings are empty-
despite the heat
I miss the sounds
of chattering girls
shoes dragging in the corriders
in stiffly ironed uniforms.
streets seem so empty
parents are so harassed
and here I was thinking
vacations are cure for
stressed minds.
when I see those
splash of colours
however dirty,
on those scraps of paper;
these make me long
for school to reopen.
when you do come back
I can only hope
you would be wiser
now that you are taller.

"I would still welcome you even if you are not"

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

Do let me know what you think of my attempt. I welcome comments and feedbacks, as always!

Remembrance

Lately I have been writing a lot about my dad. Shifting to the new house has made me think of him each moment. Maybe becos I am trying to make new memories of him in here fully well knowing I can't. However, today I can't but help speaking about him. It is his sixth anniversary. He passed away on Buddha Poornima six years ago. We do a puja and then go to a temple. Today too, after we do a puja, we will visit a temple. I do it more for ritual than anything else. I am not a temple person, like my dad. He was not deeply religious and seldom visited any temple. He was spiritual. I have inherited that aspect from him. Of all his four children, I am more like him. And I am discovering that only after he passed away.

I do not think I understood it when he used to tell us to overcome ourselves, not anyone else. The race should always be against one's ownself not with others. Now I do. Achievement is rising above the self. He never said that we have to give up materialistic stuff. But that we should know if we really need it. I like my comforts. I work for it. I suppose thats what he truly meant.

My dad had nothing. Not even his father to support him. He was a self-built man. Of course my grand mother supported despite being a widow soon after his birth. In India, being a widow was a curse (it still is). ( Another story for another time).

Dad, wherever you are, if you are watching over us, I am thankful for what you taught us. Believe me, I am happy enough, although I do have my moments. I will always love you. You know that.

Sleeplessness-----Transcreated work

When I started my tuesday posts, I mentioned that I will write about myself and occasionally interpret some famous work of a poet in my own way. Until now I was writing mostly about myself. This time I am taking a short poem by Maya Angelou...

Insomniac by Maya Angelou

There are some nights when
sleep plays coy,
aloof and disdainful.
And all the wiles
that I employ to win
its service to my side
are useless as wounded pride,
and much more painful.

Now I will try to transcreate it in my own words:

Sleeplessness

with all my might
I try to win over sleep
with knives and daggers
slashing through its soul.
colour beyond my eyes
see nothing but stars-
in that cicada filled darkness.
lost in a labyrinth,
I lose a lonely battle
giving way to dust laden path of dawn.
I entirely blame myself
for trying to hold on to something
as transient as night.

"it recognises my ruse and turns a blind eye"

I write this with due apologies to Maya Angelou.

Complacently seeking happiness

It has been two weeks since I wrote a tuesday post. More due to lack of internet in my new house. It has been more than two weeks, I have moved here. However, it is yet to become a home. I and mom decided to move here so as to be nearer my younger brother. It was not a rash decision. We took more than a year to consider and re-consider before making it happen. We had lived in the previous house for 14 years. My dad's memories are there. This house, although belonging to my eldest brother is new and is a good house to be in with all modern facilities.

It does not have any negative points to speak of. Yet, I am feeling depressed and lost. I miss my familiar place, my old corner etc etc. Is that difficult to fathom? Am I going to find happiness here? I hope so, I want so, I wish so. My mom cannot be happy, if I am not. Maybe I have let complacency rule me for a long time. I need to shake it off and get into the spirit of adventure.

Maybe I will go and buy diamond studded platinum earrings for myself. Nothing like diamonds to cheer a female up. Long time, I have indulged myself like that!

The Great Move

Since I made tuesdays as days of personal musings, they seem to come soon enough. And all I seem to talk about is my impending move to our new house, which should happen in a few days. It should have happened yesterday but had to be postponed for some reason. Once one is set to go, the delay only prolongs the agony of leaving familiar grounds behind. It's not that we are leaving Delhi.

We are making a move from East Delhi to West Delhi, which are situated diagonally opposite to each other. West Delhi is better connected to other important parts of Delhi. in the way of metro rail. However, East Delhi has better infrastructure. We don't have power outages or water woes in East Delhi but in West Delhi, both are rampant. The good thing is, the apartment we are moving into, has power backup along with adequate water storage tanks.

Most important of all, I will have to apply for a transfer to a school near my new residence. As I work for the Govt, those state owned schools are situated all over Delhi, that should not a problem. However, one never knows. Transfer is my one main worry. I have been posted in this school for almost 11 years.

A few of the times, I feel so lethargic in my mind and body, kind of hating to break the link I have formed with all, neighbours, friends, fellow teachers, vegetable venders, grocers and shopkeepers. And many others. Is it not funny? We human beings put roots everywhere.

Next Tuesday, hopefully I will have something to write about my new house, if I have net access.

signs of truth

Don't we all have such moments when we stare at nothing, our thoughts jumbled? We search for signs in our minds eye to give us a clue. To proceed in which direction. When I do not know what to do, I open up any book and try to decipher what to do. Maybe it is weird. Maybe not. Most of the times, I do get answers. Certain images form which apparantly do not have any meaning, overlapping fast moving pictures, resplendent. In those, we can find hidden truth about our destiny. We do have choices which we exercise at our discretion. However, sometimes those choices lead us to some other way, which we had not anticipated or planned.

Why am I saying all this here? I am not getting philosophical or anything. I suppose, I am getting withdrawal symptoms for moving house. Everything is finalised and I now am kind of feeling sad and nostalgic. I have lived in this house for the last 14 years. It is my parent's house. Difficult to move, considering that. One good thing is, my mom is moving along with me. I can't think of living apart from her as of now. We are moving to be nearer my youngest brother. Being with family is important. We would staying very near and yet have our own space. I feel elated as well as sad. Normal, don't you think?

Skewed view

Come April, new academic session begins. We all look forward to it, teachers as well as students. There does exist a sense of loss for the outgoing batch. When one has been teaching them for 7 years, one tends to get attached. We see them growing up right in front of our eyes, although we don't realise it until they are ready to leave us. There is this mixed emotion when they finally leave us to go face the world. Going for higher studies, or work or simply to start a family.

When one is in the protected environment of a school, everything is uncomplicated, apart from studies. Our infrastructure might not be what it should be, however, care, concern and safety are upper most. The govt tries to do its best, sometimes it does take that much longer to reach the masses. For a few years now, there has been virtually free education for girls, along with free books and uniform, for those who study in the state owned schools. Previously, there used to be many drop outs which has been curtailed by these incentive. This year onwards, there is a plan to start mid-day meal schemes for middle school students. It already exists for the primary classes.

Educating a girl is educating the whole family. An educated mother can take better care for her children and will not neglect on their studies. I have seen many mothers wanting their daughters to continue with their aducation and fathers wanting to get them married. In our caste driven society, parents do not want their daughters to speak for themselves and getting them married at an early age is one way of preventing it. A girl has no choice in this matter. Changes are visible only in the metropolitan cities. In the rural places, the mindset is pretty much the same.
What brought this topic to my mind today? Because, yesterday we heard that a 14 years old girl of our school was married off by her parents last week after her exams finnished, as they did not want her to study further. They took her class IX result and her school leaving certificate. It is kind death of all her dreams for which, we can't even sing a requiem. What can helpless teachers do when parents have skewed views?

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



And anyone who forgot my birthday on 22nd March, need not feel guilty about that fact. They can make it up by buying me books for the BAFAB week! Please do remember to mail me for my smail mail. Where else are you gonna send those books?!

:-)

Cross out old memories

Another Tuesday. Last one of March 2008. This week it is going to be a tough act. After evalutions comes tabulation of result which in any case have to declared on 31st March. However, that is part of my work, so let's not talk about it.

A while back, I wrote a post on if persistence pays. Or if it is more of luck. I got varied responses. Majority said persistance and luck go hand in hand. I do agree to that. Upto a certain point. In order to pursue certain goal, we have to be persistent and if we are lucky we might attain that.

Nonetheless, I find certain people setting up goals which are unattainable. Then they try to steamroll over you to look at it from their point of view. Expecting you to be part of it. For those, my answer is, if it is your goal, you go about it. Why involve me? It might not be what I want. I can't live life for anyone but myself.

Some people try to control your mind. They succeed, if you let them. Many a times, we do not fight back. We kind of give in even when a certain part of us resists. Subconsciously, it is telling us to break away, to weigh the pros and cons. Do we really need to step on each other's toes? I for one, need my space. Lots of it. In that space, I have made too many memories for myself-----good or bad..those belong to me and only me. In the bigger scheme of things, togetherness is all but an illusion.

I re-read Siddhartha by Hermann Hesse last sunday. It reminded me that to seek truth and peace, we have to find the path alone. No one can do it for us. It is on us, how we go about it. The answers are all within us. Don't wory, I am not renouncing the world. I like my creature comforts too much. I can balance spirituality with material world. What is spirituality, other than a state of mind?

Constant split into two

I thought that I will talk about myself every tuesday. I might even set myself prompts or introduce memes! I truly do not know what road this may lead me. This time, I start a bit early. On a Monday night. And why not?

A while back, I was in a confused state of mind. I forgot right from the wrong. I am not saying I am above all this. I am as human as the next person. Nonetheless, I let this madness rule over me for a long period of time. I was in a trance like state where you act like a zombie. You do all the normal things but your mind is not in it. You want to let go but something stops. You fully well know you should break away but you are tied. You want to resist but cannot. One way to get out of it is to snap out of it. Somehow I simply woke up one morning and snapped out of it. I think physical illness helped me in a way.

Looking at it, in terms of life, there is no gain or loss. You are what you make of it. Chasing Eldorado never led anyone anywhere. One just needs to remember the constants. Can we change those? Bigger question is, should we change that? How do we decide what path to take? Can any path be wrong? Or right? On the pitch-fork of road, our mind splits into two. Does liberty mean we can do anything we want? No, if it is going to affect others. That too, in major ways.

My dad taught me that whatever decision I make, I should sleep over it. That sometimes gives us a better perspective. This time, I was awake for a long time . When I finally slept over it, I knew what my dad meant. My dad never imposed his will on me {if he had, I would have got married before 20. Almost every Indian parent plans the marriage of his son or daughter even before they are born. Even now! (That was an aside!)}. He was always there for me. No matter what. So is my mom, now. Only parents can love you unconditionally. I have been the major beneficiary of that, being at home most of the times.

This time, I am not going to let anything influence me, my mind. I will go by my gut feeling. It tells me to forge ahead. I am making changes in my life by moving to a new house, changing my school and in many other trivial ways. On the personal front, life looks bright, now that the dark clouds are gone. I am going to keep it that way. I am no longer going to look like that girl in the photo..

Let's all raise a toast over that!