Old and withered

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Old and withered,

yet there remains something unfigured

Losing all notions

what is left of my emotions

Is it time to go ?

It is already ‘a long time ago’?

Why I am stunned?

For me, there is no pension fund

Is it the fear

to not be remembered?

Questioning my existence

I am feeling this resistance.

When lived as a unique identity

now why this attachment of terrenity?

No legacy, not even a name,

No one to make a claim.

May be it is the end of the game

but here, it all remains the same.

So why do I still stand here?

Am I waiting for a Shakespeare,

who will write on the stages of my life?

Look at that purple loosestrife

to whom I provide a shelter

hoping this purity can melt her.

I am to my mother, the nature

A little tree in her portraiture.

 

[ A random thought that occurred to me last weekend, while taking a stroll. Thanks to Rini, for she helps me express my emotions in poetic form sometimes.]

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(Picture Credits: Avinash Kumar)

Clouds

Up in the air, in the fairy lands

I can see the pictures made by beautiful hands.

Some familiar, some undrawn; changing like the black swan.

Whites and grey, paint them if I may

So beautiful to gaze, some swirls, some in a maze

On a blue canvas with wonderful whitewash

Some close to me, some close to sky

From girl’s locks to the cumulus, it varies.

Hopes and emotions that it carries.

They make me float, in feet and in my senses

when I call up, just then it condenses.

And if that wasn’t enough, it changes the color of green too,

the trees which were glowing in yellow of sun, now shining in the dew.

It plays with the soil, somewhere plain, other coyle.

Puddles where she jumps, and I swim in my trunks.


Continue reading “Clouds”

Stream

Look! How has it changed from polluted to pure,

Sometimes milky white, sometimes dirty more

Never has occured to it – take rest

Doesn’t it think for its best ?

Dropping from the heights, making all sorts of noise

While coming down the valley, it plays the musical notes

I do not know who pulls such chords !

At one moment, I listen to its meditative tone

While at others, engulfed by its larger form

Standing there; I was enchanted

Ready to lose all, which I ever wanted.

 

 

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Photo credits: Avinash

Edited by Rini

The Window

Out of the window there was a faint light; calling of the sunlight.

A gentle reminder of the promise, made a night before the morning bright.

Joyfully I looked out of the window to know that the world was glowing yellow

I was filled with passion since I learnt a new lesson

Today I will try to follow my conscience, which didn’t utter a lie

My ignorance has enveloped the earth which was not the purpose of my birth

If only it could stay to start this day.

My threshold consciousness broke the walls

to embrace the life before the night falls.

 

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Photo Credits: Rini

 

 

Edited by Rini

 

Companion

It took all the courage to move on, move on the slippery sides , to walk in the dim lights

But among all these, there is a confession that it was a gentle progression

from long walks to bike trips,

It came all like a learning, which I recollect, was not the motive from the beginning,

not meant for others, but it came with others

and now when I recollect, I figure out it was worth a break

I made some friends with whom I had some adventurous ways for some rough days.

Now I travel more to feel that closeness (to nature) once more

O nature, to look for a friend who has remained true for all such travels,

for whom, there is not a single plan yet to unravel.

With every such adventure, I have enjoyed the company of my conscience,

which has remained silent or may be I didn’t listen to it.

while walking with you, I listened to you; and now I understood that I was a stranger in my own town

I grew and became old, for your learning has given me more ,

Of my share of happiness, I have given none,

lets take a walk to the destination still unknown.

For the beauty lies in the appreciation, rather than outer beautification

Lets take a walk where you can talk, secrets of the truth which are told no more

Lets travel in the distant place, remote, as they say, but ‘oh my conscience’ don’t remain at the bay

with you I can still move on.. in the woods for an unplanned trip, neither for fun, nor for life, but for me to celebrate.

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Photo Credits: Rini

Home

It has been almost 12 years, a long time, since he has not visited his home even once. Rather it will be the inconvenient truth to say that in these 12 years, he did not visit the place where he knows lies comfort for him. No matter what time it will be, his favorite food will be cooked and people will always be happy to have him around. Yes, it was his home town. After his college, he does not visit his home as often and every time he was in panic he will call them, be it day or night. On the opposite side of the scale, when he got selected in his dream college  and subsequently landed his dream job, he was so excited that he called them in the night. There is nothing bad about it. Family as an organization plays a vital role to cope up with sudden changes in life, be it intended or unintended.

He even ensured that there were regular family reunions. Reaching there was three hours by flight and by bus, it was a 10 hours journey, which was not so difficult for anyone in the family. Maid was given special instructions to cook what the family used to eat in his childhood days, so as to refresh the memories. Lately since his parents were working and sometimes they didn’t get leave to go to him. Even he was busy, so in last couple of years, there was no such reunion.

In any society, a lot of value and importance is given to family gatherings, as it revives the bond and brings unity. Finally, it is the kinship which takes care of its members in hard times. In Indian society, the vastness of this kinship is vocal identity for one’s influence in society. So it is expected from everyone that they attend crucial events. Living in big cities and chasing dreams has taken a large chunk of our time. But at what cost? Some people might be willing to have the discomfort of giving it a thought and out of those, only few will come to a conclusion. After all who wants to waste time, thinking such things when every thing seems so right!

But in last decade, even these 5 hours journey has become a hectic procedure. A distance of mere few hundreds of kilometers is referred to as a remote place by people living in the metros. People think not only about the distance, but time and also the crowd that they have to bear with for the hours of journey. Mostly people avoid journey, which they feel might push them out of their comfort zone. But if we ask ourselves, nothing is as beautiful and comforting as seeing happiness in the eyes of family members, the people you love.

Yes, it is true that he worked hard in office and in his leisure time, he used to develop avenues of future prospects. But as any human being on earth, he was also full of emotions. There were sinusoidal moments of joy and sadness in his life also. This was probably a break from his linear mechanical life. And the irony is that, these moments of high and low were the ones when he took up his phone and dialed his home.

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Photo by: Avinash Kumar

But sometimes even people who become habitual of living a fast track life, want a place of peace, and what could be better than the home town where clock ticks at its usual pace, without any pressure attached to it. It was surprising that this time he thought he will go to his home with his mind free and not occupied by either the office or complexities of his life. On the other hand, he was excited to visit his home, to see those playground, friends where he lived and with whom he has one of his his memory.

And finally the day came, he felt that he was again a child and with those childlike keen eyes, which are forever interested and curious to ask questions and prepared to grasp things which come in their way, he stepped out of station. But to his surprise, he was total stranger in his own native place. He felt uncomfortable. He rushed to his home and knocked the door. His parents were happy to see him and blessed him. He inquired about how things have changed. With a childish smile, he asked why was he not informed about the changes in the garden and in the city. It was then that he saw those lines on the faces of his parents. They have developed wrinkles on their face and have spectacles on their eyes.

Those faces which were like sky and earth for him, have grown old but still their zeal to make him happy was not even a bit less. He asked to himself, when it happened, how suddenly all things have changed and all these times, he was acting as if he was the center of the whole world for his family, like in his childhood. How his world has changed without him being aware of it. How his perceptions have become stiff.

This time he was so calm that he could listen to the voice within him, which he had not given much attention after joining the race. It was his conscience which reminded all that he has missed, ‘…the period to love, understand his own family, the race of the world, the continuous effort to be happy…’.

He realized how much self-centered he has become. He has left the ever cheerful nature of a child and the importance of family, far behind. His mind started pondering upon the thought that it’s only family where he can always remain a child.

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Photo by: Avinash Kumar

With heavy heart and a sense of gratitude, he remembered a silly discussion with his friend, ‘the river which flows is lively, but when it becomes static, the same water give foul smell’. His thoughts broke by the smell of paranthas (fried Indian bread), as he sees his mother approaching him with the tray. He jumped to the dining table, and became a child once again.

What colors to choose?

My soul wanted to express itself. And there is no alternative, other than expressing it in the form of colorful art in this festive season. Next thing, I was rushing to the market, searching for variety of colors. Just then, when I was in the market full of colors and lights, I paused for a moment and thought what color I wanted and in what quantity?

I inquired of my soul, what is the magnitude of art/creation we were talking about. The soul replied, ‘why are you keeping a limit on the colors before even starting’. I gave it a thought and took all colors which my heart wanted to create colorful art.

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Rini preparing Rangoli

 

Is it always our choice to choose colors of our life? And if we are free to choose, then why don’t we listen to our soul which always guides us to the colors which we need to make a colorful life.

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Rangoli made by Rini at Diwali

Finally, the above Rangoli (decoration) are the outcome.

 

Credits: Rangoli and photos by Rini