Tuesday, November 29, 2011

more from The Browsing Corner

Am blessed to be a part of the Browsing Corner - its a lovely place on facebook where one gets to read some awesome poetry (and other stuff, but if u have read this blog for any length of time, you will know that i live for poetry)

Presenting, then, one of the 2 gems i intend to share from that treasure trove:

The first is a poem that i want to grow old reading:
A lesser known poet's "As I Am"  (click to link to the original)

I am beginning to unravel my flaws,

To despise them a little less than yesterday,

To know in the scheme of things,

The flaws are intrinsic, nature’s way,

The water won’t cleanse them,

The hands will remain soiled,

And that is how I will know,

I have arrived, with a pair of dirty hands,

Kneeling by His side,

Singing in His name,

Thank you God,

I am utterly, truly yours…flawed as I am
And the second is "Visthapit" - coming soon in another post.

Monday, November 28, 2011


i have removed you
from the legal papers
and from the house
and from the heart....?
and yet
i cant remove you
from the
and the crannies
where pieces of you
like marks of crayons
made by our child
when he was very young.
pieces of ur memory
in the dresses
that you used to hate
and the cooking
you detested.

Cannot remove
the sound of
"what the hell happened?"
as soon as you enter
no one to put the food away
in the fridge
late at night.

No, i cannot
remove you
from the nooks, crannies, corners
and the depths
of all that
we have lived through

Thursday, November 24, 2011

धीरज का क्या है, टूटे तो कल टूट जाए, न टूटे तो ४६ साल न टूटे..

माँ, बच्चों का दुनिया में विश्वास होती है.  अगर माँ मर जाए, तो बच्चे का दुनिया में विश्वास भी मर जाता है.

there is no good age to lose a parent.

as u can tell, i m reading a lot of amrita pritam these days..

Sunday, November 13, 2011

Tuesday, November 08, 2011

kya rhyming hai..

i wish i was
your santa claus!

ainve hi sher..

खुशतरस में न आशियाने में
दिल सा दुश्मन नहीं ज़माने में

क्या बुरा है जो खुल के रो लीजे,
सौ तकल्लुफ हैं मुस्कुराने में

- अज्ञात

Saturday, November 05, 2011

lotus leaf

Morning is wiser than evening. Sometimes.

Lotus Leaf
whom nothing touches
or corrupts
Lotus Leaf
must feel
very lonely
by the earth
by the bugs
eating into everything else
in there
and yet
not there
focusing on
just the task
of nurturing
the flower
she helped bring
into the world.

Lotus leaves
must feel
very lonely.

Friday, November 04, 2011

On Female Foeticide

There are 2 ways to kill a girl. The first is to kill her in the womb, or right after birth. That is the gentle way. The other is to kill her, breath by breath, step by step, for the rest of her life.

“Don’t wear this.”

“Go inside, there are boys here.”

“Girls should not be playing physical sports, run away.”

“Don’t answer back.”

“Who will marry you if you cant even cook?”

“No matter how much you study, eventually you have to cook!”

“The woman of the house must not work outside.”

“I am the husband, and you will do as I say.”

By deciding, even, how deep a breath she can take. There are, after all breasts to be considered.

The illiterate kill their girls the first way. The rich, the literate and others use the second. Only a girl who has lived like this for 16-17 years, can understand the benefits of dying at birth.

Going the last mile..

Kuchh isliye bhi mai us'se bichhad gayaa 'Mohsin'
Wo duur duur se dekhe thahar thahar ke mujhe

कुछ इसलिए भी मैं उस से बिछड़ गया मोहसिन,
वो दूर दूर से देखे ठहर ठहर के मुझे..

- This was the sher that started it. The sher hit me because most other poetry talks about the romance of seeing someone from afar and doing nothing about it. This sher talks about the consequence of seeing from afar and doing nothing about it.
What is going to come next still breaks the heart, after all these years:

A friend liked someone in her office but said nothing about it. The other person also said nothing. In time, both of them got married to other people. After that, one time, they met, and ended up confessing how they felt about each other.
It was heartbreaking to see them. She knew, without any physical communication, everything from whether he is in trouble to whether he has eaten! And he was equally telepathic about her. i have never, ever seen that in a couple - neither before nor since.
But they had to go their separate ways - guilt and all that.

When i read this sher, it sooo reminded me of them, and of so many other people, who are unhappy, because they just did not step up while there was still time. And it isnt just true of romantic relationships...

Lots of friendships happened because one just said, "Lets have coffee." and those coffees led to games of "Truth" .. which, in turn, led to lifelong bonds..
And some friendships were lost, because, while there was still time, one did not say those magical words, "lets talk".

I have said it lots of times on this blog, so at the risk of repetition, here goes again:
If you really like someone, the time to tell them is NOW.
If you want to make friends, the time to have that coffee is TODAY.
Standing on the sidelines, is only good if you intend to be a bystander. If you want to be a part of a life, the time to step into that life is now.

Departure - by Edna St Vincent Millay

It's little I care what path I take,
And where it leads it's little I care;
But out of this house, lest my heart break,
I must go, and off somewhere.

It's little I know what's in my heart,
What's in my mind it's little I know,
But there's that in me must up and start,
And it's little I care where my feet go.

I wish I could walk for a day and a night,
And find me at dawn in a desolate place
With never the rut of a road in sight,
Nor the roof of a house, nor the eyes of a face.

I wish I could walk till my blood should spout,
And drop me, never to stir again,
On a shore that is wide, for the tide is out,
And the weedy rocks are bare to the rain.

But dump or dock, where the path I take
Brings up, it's little enough I care:
And it's little I'd mind the fuss they'll make,
Huddled dead in a ditch somewhere.

'Is something the matter, dear,' she said,
'That you sit at your work so silently?'
'No, mother, no, 'twas a knot in my thread.
There goes the kettle, I'll make the tea.'