Words

Words are powerful, words are immortal, words can be magical, words can be dangerous, words can be heard even in silence, words can be used to motivate, words can be used to manipulate. Words can be many things but for me they are my friends. Friends who have remained loyal, kind and gentle. I write these for them-my little friends.

Pen is mightier than a sword
Its not just alphabets which make a word
Words come from within, from our souls
Some during our highs and some during our lows

Use them wisely as they can stir a revolution
Powerful as they are can offer many a solution
When used righteously can put wars to a cease
Leaders with magic of words can bring world peace

Even when used in clichés can win a beloved’s heart
Playing with words is more than just a blissful art
Can join couples and also disunite such are these words
Be careful, be careful when using them, all you love birds

Children learn their firsts from dads and mums
Listening to lullabies and sucking their thumbs
Bad, foul and mean words corrupt their mind
lets not utter them for world needs them to be kind

I feel words probably have a world of their own
With crowned king and a queen sitting on a throne
On second thoughts, looked again no king or queen I see
Of course how could they be as words were born to be free

Words are the gifts from god to us in his kingdom
Right ones from the right ones will lead us all to wisdom
Blessed are we who can write and do words justice to their accord
For as I said at the very start pen is indeed mightier than a sword.

Memories of wrong been there too long…..

I have been flustering over the words of praise showered by my kind blogger friends over me. I feel weighed down by the extra ordinary words of praise: ‘You are a treasure in a world of growth…’, ‘You are the somewhere between the song bird and the butterfly in full bloom…’, ‘You are so insightful…!’

Its difficult for these words to sink in as I am aware of my shortcomings and can fathom the vast ocean of virtues and values that I need to cross to become best of myself. I suspect that my pen has somehow ended up camauflauging my not so praiseworthy self.

Each word of praise reminds me of hundreds of rebukes. My heart, I can now sense is bearing the weight of memories of wrong, some done by me and some done upon me. I have memories of not being liked for being me, or for what was thought was me and also memories of me fighting back with equal reproach and vengeance.

To be free of these memories would unchain me from the tangles of angst, anxiety and bitterness. Though I am speaking for myself in this instance, I feel we all have or will have to cross the barricade of coming to terms with stacks of such unpleasant memories.

Sweeping them under the carpet or to banish them somewhere in the dark corners of our minds is not the solution. These grotesque goblins will resurface someday or the other without any notice.

I know the complete fix-it is to face up to these creatures of past and wipe them away. What I am not sure is how to do it. Forgive I can, I have both myself and others but forget I can’t, I haven’t been able to.

I decided to write about this going against my better judgement to comfort anyone who feels or felt the same. I write this to let that person know that he/she is not alone. One can feel bogged down by certain bygones in spite of being happy and content. Present doesn’t protect us from past.

But we can, let’s jump off these barricades and trick those dirty sprites away by bouncing back on springboard of our success, praise and self worth.

Independence Day – Swatantrata Divas

August 15, 2006 India celebrates its 59th year as an independent country. My heart is flooding with emotions on the day. Amidst over powering thoughts, I dedicate the following piece to My Supreme Mother- My country.

Away from you my mother
In these far off lands
Not there to wipe your tears
to heal your wounds

I haven’t done enough
to make you proud
yet love from you sees not that
you just give and not ask

To be born in your womb
I am blessed
Having left your shores, I won’t complain
if I were to be damned

Blood on you, flows off tears from my eyes
Insults, attacks and jibes on you makes my fist clench
You having taught me the virtue of peace and non violence
I settle myself, nevertheless paining with your pain

On this special day of our independence my mother
accept gratitude, wishes and offerings from your
daughter who though away, feels you
and feels for you always.

Jana Gana Mana




To my fellow indians and to all my world friends I present a beautiful video of our national anthem. With this post I entrust all of you to respect our national anthem and to watch it in its true spirit.

Transalation of our national Anthem which was written and composed by Rabindranath Tagore:

Thou art the/??? ruler of the minds of all people,
dispenser of India's destiny.
Thy name rouses the hearts of Punjab, Sindh, Gujarat, the Maratha country,
in the Dravida country, Utkala (Orissa) and Bengal;
It echoes in the hills of the Vindhyas and Himalayas,
it mingles in the rhapsodies of the pure waters Jamuna and the Ganges.
They chant only thy name,
they seek only thy blessings,
They sing only thy praise.
The saving of all people waits in thy hand,
thou dispenser of India's destiny.
Victory, victory, victory to thee.

One fine night

I am a nocturnal creature. I am more of myself during nights. All this while nights made me feel independent, in command as I could decide the course of it. Nights are no longer the same, nights now have more or less been reduced to being rest time to be prepared for the next day. Seldom do I have nights where I feel like before. Nights used to be time for my indulgences- thinking, pondering, wondering, more thinking, more pondering, more wondering…...:-) Now I try to put myself to sleep and shutdown my sweet little mind even before it boots up. I wrote this poem during a day imagining ironically a ‘Night of my Dreams’

Night is young
Day yet to be born

Thousands of stars in sky
But less than the thoughts in my mind

Eyes struggling to be open
Weighing down by my yet to be seen dreams

Glass of water besides the bed to be drunk
Dog-ears of the book calling me out to be read

Alarm all set for the dawn
Coffee left to be filtered overnight

All prepared for the morning
yet I am asking the night to never end

Night in peace with myself
Waiting for my someone special

Moon out in its fullness again
Making the night more intoxicating

Night surrounding me by its fragrance
the nightqueen in my garden breezing it on me

My heart buzzing like a bee
winging on notes of true love

Night not special because I
had wins during the day

Nights I live for, a night is my time
some with my loved ones but most of it with I, me, myself.

Wiped out

Dinosaurs, Dodos, Typing machines, Ambassador cars, Miners, Mill workers, Weavers…………..If you are wondering, this is the list of things which have gone extinct, things which have been wiped out.

Last night I saw a British movie about the lives of some coal mine workers and how it all changed when their pit was shutdown. The closure left them jobless, homeless, hopeless and ailing with their bodies black inside with all the coal accumulated over the years.

More than a quarter of a million jobs were lost during the 80s in the UK due to closing of coal mines alone without even considering the numbers from the textile mills. I do not have knowledge of economics to weigh these events and comment whether or not they were financially rewarding at the time or if they proved to be worthwhile in the long-term.

The bitter truth is these industries had to go sometime or the other. The changing world doesn’t spare any of us a choice of not changing along with it. The question though is whether enough was done to accommodate the needs of the workmen and whether they were given enough support to re-establish themselves.

Working class or middle class depend just on their wages for their livelihood. Their outgoings are what their earnings are. It is very difficult for them to save money as a buffer, it’s a good thing now that all the employers are encouraging the employees to atleast join their pension schemes. One unpaid month brings about cascading affects on their life. They are led to borrow money on high interest from high street lenders to make the ends meet and these loans then handicap them for the rest of their lives.

A job lost for them is not just a job lost, it is a cut down on ration for the entire family, it means compromises being made on the future of the children, children being forced to grow and earn faster. The weaker hearts succumbing to booze and sensitive ones heartbroken.

I am really struggling here, were mistakes made then or were the sacrifices of some million families worldwide justified in order to give us a modern, technologically better lifestyle. Lifestyle it probably has, has it given us a better life, I ask.

Today I am raising doubts on the judgements and actions of people born before me. I am in many ways challenging the rights or wrongs set by them. All good. BUT this is a reminder to me that questions will be posed to me/us someday, that I/we will be asked to justify my/our actions and decisions. We all owe our posterity a promise to keep the society and the planet preserved in good shape for them. Tomorrow all of us will be faced with questions on what we did to stop many of the atrocities going on around us today.

There are always questions to be asked but there are more to be answered. Are we prepared for that? Do we have our excuses ready?

Fish in a Pond

A wise man told me “Fish liked to swim, yet not all kind of fishes could swim outside the pond. They could swim anywhere within the pond”.

We have all heard of the phrase ‘Like a fish takes to water’ being used for people who are able to adapt to new situations very quickly and easily. Truth though is even fishes are scared of swimming in unknown waters and against the current. This verse is for all such fishes and for all our fears;

I am Salty the fish
With more than one wish
Have always lived in this pond
where we all have a strong bond

I want to see the world outside
but there are stories of fishes who tried and died
I dream of deep waters where I can dive crazy
wonder if I can really do it, everything just seems hazy

I asked my mother why she named me Salty
After sea water she named me, imagining it to be tasty
I want to go and see the sea someday
prove to my pond that we too can have a say

Do you think, I Salty can do at least one extraordinary feat?
Is it true that nothing is impossible if you have enough grit?
Will I ever end my journey, will I actually ever start?
Will I ever leave my pond and try to reach the horizon’s heart?