[If you are happy and you know it
Clap your hands] – 2
If you are happy and you know it
Then you really ought to show it
If you are happy and you know it
Clap your hands…
And the loudest clap and stamp and pat and hurray came from little Aryan, as he skipped and jumped and hopped all around the class. The little bag of wildest mischief was all of 5 years and yet gave tough time to the 2 pretty teachers of his Upper KG. The teachers dreaded this little child, for they knew not what new prank was born in his naughty little head the next minute. Come lunch break and he would be there teasing, pushing and bumping into every child, ever trying to run out of the classroom at the wink of an eye. Miss Sharada had already complained twice about this to his parents in a note in his diary, but got no response.
If you are happy and you know it
Then you really ought to show it
If you are happy and you know it
Say Hurray…
The bell for the lunch break rang and kids jumped up from their places and made a run towards the door. A chaos that was so bewildering that the teachers had to march right in the middle of the herd and take some disciplinary actions in the effort to organize them into lines and walk them to the toilets… Having washed his hands, Aryan casually sneaked in behind Sumit and quietly wiped his hands on his shirt. He then hopped his way towards the classroom, tripping Riya on the way, pulling Gina’s long plaited hair, a nudge of an elbow to Irfan and a bump into Sohail before he landed on his seat with a thud.
"Children! All of you put your heads down, close your eyes… all of you… cmon" came the shrill voice of Miss Sharada, as she put the kids to their afternoon nap after the lunch. Every two minutes, Aryan would pop up his head and look at his classmates, all amused at how peacefully they slept in weird postures. Then he would take out his pencil slowly and poke the kid next to him. The teacher would call out his name…. "Aryan, put your head down". Sometimes he would be punished by the teacher. "Stand up on your bench Aryan!" This was a punishment he looked forward to, because it would give him a better view of the class and outside the window. He would then watch the seniors play in the ground for the entire hour. An hour passed and the evening bell rang.
The kids all got up with double the energies, rushed towards the exit doors, down the lobbies, breaking the queues, pushing each other to get to their Mothers at the earliest. The mothers would scoop up their kids in their arms; give them a little peck on their cheeks, and the happy kids would elaborate in excited tones on the events of the day. Sometimes they got a dairymilk, sometimes a packet of gems from their moms, a reward for being away several hours. Aryan was the last to exit the class, walked slowly to the corridor where his maid waited for him. She picked him up, took his bag and water bottle and walked silently towards the red Ford Fiesta parked outside the gate. As he clung on to her, he noticed the other children being kissed and pampered by their mothers, narrating the whole day’s events to their mothers in a hyper excited tone. Aryan clung on to his maid a little closer. His little fair hands thrown around her dark neck, with his head buried at the nape. He could smell the sweat that drenched her, he could feel her damp skin and clothes and a sour stink that emanated from her dry, parched skin. But this sour stink, the clasp of those strong, bony arms, was far more warm and comforting than the empty air that surrounded him… the void that made him cry out secretly at times. The same stillness that woke him from a deep slumber at the dead of the nights… when his little room with all his favourite cartoon characters on the walls frightened him… he would cling on to his snoopy, like he clung on to his maid. The eventful part of the day was already over and what remained were the drab, lonely hours dedicated to an endless wait for his parents to return from office before he fell asleep.
Monday, July 30, 2007
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
A Procession...
Blue is the colour of the vast skies,
The colour that colours silent sighs…
Blue of the gems, and blue of the eyes,
Blue is the colour when the body dies…
…blue is the colour when the body dies…
…when the body dies…
…blue is the colour…
There, she laid along the road-side,
Palms up-turned, lips parched and dried,
Flies humming, howering over eyes,
As inch-by-inch she diminished in size…
…inch-by-inch she diminished in size…
…diminished in size…
…inch-by-inch…
And the blues then turned black and brown,
With the wounds that emerged dust crowned…
A few souls die with the body’s crimes…
A few when die, die several times…
…A few when die, die several times…
…several times…
…few souls die…
~And the traffic moved... unmoved... in a procession~
The colour that colours silent sighs…
Blue of the gems, and blue of the eyes,
Blue is the colour when the body dies…
…blue is the colour when the body dies…
…when the body dies…
…blue is the colour…
There, she laid along the road-side,
Palms up-turned, lips parched and dried,
Flies humming, howering over eyes,
As inch-by-inch she diminished in size…
…inch-by-inch she diminished in size…
…diminished in size…
…inch-by-inch…
And the blues then turned black and brown,
With the wounds that emerged dust crowned…
A few souls die with the body’s crimes…
A few when die, die several times…
…A few when die, die several times…
…several times…
…few souls die…
~And the traffic moved... unmoved... in a procession~
Friday, May 18, 2007
Kshanik Insaan is Off-air for a while!!!
Shrottaon se nivedan hai ki apne aachaar, vichar, bhaav aur pyaar, khaton athwa tippaniyon ke dwara hum tak pahunchaate rahen...
*Asuvidha ke liye khed hai*
The Inconvenience is deeply regretted
Aapki Seva mein
Yours truly,
Meenakshi
-------------------------------------
Love-hate-life
A passionate being she is.
Has for ever been…
Loved herself enough,
To die for her being.
Hated herself even more,
To kill the self in vengeance.
But just not enough indifference
to go on living…
each day, each hour,
every passing moment…
*Asuvidha ke liye khed hai*
The Inconvenience is deeply regretted
Aapki Seva mein
Yours truly,
Meenakshi
-------------------------------------
Love-hate-life
A passionate being she is.
Has for ever been…
Loved herself enough,
To die for her being.
Hated herself even more,
To kill the self in vengeance.
But just not enough indifference
to go on living…
each day, each hour,
every passing moment…
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Creating Nirjhira- part 1
Hi everybody, I am posting a part of what I had posted earlier, to maintain the flow. This is the completed part-1. Cheers!
Scene-1
It was a bright starlit night.
The queen of the sky, in her crescent chariot, bedecked in the grandeur of white brilliance, presided over the revelry of the night. She smiled graciously at the performance of her ardent admirers, the prim and prop, well dressed, knights of the night, who well portrayed their skills at the art of chivalry, to amuse the queen.
While this act was brewing up in the heavens, on the surface of earth sat a solitary soul by his window… romancing with the cool breeze, wearing a smile indicative of his lost countenance… a silent spectator to the night’s frolics. The very image of a man, freshly struck by Cupid’s arrows… gazing at the moon, possibly summoning in his mind, lines from love sonnets of Sidney and Spenser… comparing his beloved with the moon. By his window he sat, lost in recollecting every moment of that evening when he had met her. And like all those romantic, passionate hearts that believe in “Love at first sight”, our dear young friend, lost his heart to this beautiful maiden at the party. Just like the hero of all classic love stories, every night, he stares at the moon, like it was a mirror reflecting his thoughts in images, and in that image, he sees his beloved’s face. Thus the queen of the sky once again became the patron of yet another pair of lovers. Today, in an especially gracious disposition, she dismisses her court early and sits in solitude with the lover, both admiring in verbal abundance, the object of his passionate love. But our hero is still a rational lover… now does that sound like an oxymoron? Can love and rationale go together? Well I say so, because this gentleman, warrants moderation in his praise for his lady. See what he tells the moon…
Lover:
No… not so high…
Let her be firmly grounded,
for she fears to fly.
No… not so deep…
Let her be perceived shallow,
than plunge in fair conceit.
Oh! not even so fair…
She’s but the colour of dusk,
Dark nights form her hair.
Her eyes are not coral blue,
But a dark brown affair.
Her temperance?
How do I tell you what it be,
Sometimes, a dormant volcano,
Sometimes, a tempestuous sea.
If coquetry be a maid’s weapon,
She has brandished none,
And yet against her natural charms,
All men and deities summon.
If women feign innocence,
To win the hearts of men,
She feigns a fake cunning,
I know not to what gain?
Timidity, fragility and subservience
Are traits to her unknown.
She possesses a tender heart,
With a mind of her own.
She is not a noted beauty,
Nor has any craft conjured…
In her strength and vulnerability
I find my heart conquered.
Moon:
Bravo! Bravo Young heart!
With each syllable you utter
drips a part of your heart…
Love melts in your words,
Making your voice hoarse…
But such are the ways of love
It must take its own course.
But tell me, does she know?
This so desirable an affliction,
does her countenance show?
Aah! do not hesitate bud…
To speak your heart…
Do not in the least fret
the nature of her retort.
I have been a witness
To many love legends,
And seen many crumble
Under mere fake pretence.
Denial my friend, is an agreeable offence.
Submit to your fate, but only at will’s end.
Let not the heart be turned to lead,
By a few words wanted, left unsaid.
And thus the moon pronounced the woe of many lovers… the tale of broken hearts, of love unrequited. But no… our friend is a man of courage, not easily dithered in his decision. With dawn shall he pledge, his heart love-laden, to his beloved maiden. While the moon and this man did plot the plan… in another corner of the city conspired another man. Now this other man turning out to be, the father of the bride-to-be, is a matter of sheer coincidence. And his conspiracy should concern the subject of her wedding, is again err… providence? hmmmm… Do I smell trouble? lets wait and watch…
------------ end of scene-1 --------------------
Scene-1
It was a bright starlit night.
The queen of the sky, in her crescent chariot, bedecked in the grandeur of white brilliance, presided over the revelry of the night. She smiled graciously at the performance of her ardent admirers, the prim and prop, well dressed, knights of the night, who well portrayed their skills at the art of chivalry, to amuse the queen.
While this act was brewing up in the heavens, on the surface of earth sat a solitary soul by his window… romancing with the cool breeze, wearing a smile indicative of his lost countenance… a silent spectator to the night’s frolics. The very image of a man, freshly struck by Cupid’s arrows… gazing at the moon, possibly summoning in his mind, lines from love sonnets of Sidney and Spenser… comparing his beloved with the moon. By his window he sat, lost in recollecting every moment of that evening when he had met her. And like all those romantic, passionate hearts that believe in “Love at first sight”, our dear young friend, lost his heart to this beautiful maiden at the party. Just like the hero of all classic love stories, every night, he stares at the moon, like it was a mirror reflecting his thoughts in images, and in that image, he sees his beloved’s face. Thus the queen of the sky once again became the patron of yet another pair of lovers. Today, in an especially gracious disposition, she dismisses her court early and sits in solitude with the lover, both admiring in verbal abundance, the object of his passionate love. But our hero is still a rational lover… now does that sound like an oxymoron? Can love and rationale go together? Well I say so, because this gentleman, warrants moderation in his praise for his lady. See what he tells the moon…
Lover:
No… not so high…
Let her be firmly grounded,
for she fears to fly.
No… not so deep…
Let her be perceived shallow,
than plunge in fair conceit.
Oh! not even so fair…
She’s but the colour of dusk,
Dark nights form her hair.
Her eyes are not coral blue,
But a dark brown affair.
Her temperance?
How do I tell you what it be,
Sometimes, a dormant volcano,
Sometimes, a tempestuous sea.
If coquetry be a maid’s weapon,
She has brandished none,
And yet against her natural charms,
All men and deities summon.
If women feign innocence,
To win the hearts of men,
She feigns a fake cunning,
I know not to what gain?
Timidity, fragility and subservience
Are traits to her unknown.
She possesses a tender heart,
With a mind of her own.
She is not a noted beauty,
Nor has any craft conjured…
In her strength and vulnerability
I find my heart conquered.
Moon:
Bravo! Bravo Young heart!
With each syllable you utter
drips a part of your heart…
Love melts in your words,
Making your voice hoarse…
But such are the ways of love
It must take its own course.
But tell me, does she know?
This so desirable an affliction,
does her countenance show?
Aah! do not hesitate bud…
To speak your heart…
Do not in the least fret
the nature of her retort.
I have been a witness
To many love legends,
And seen many crumble
Under mere fake pretence.
Denial my friend, is an agreeable offence.
Submit to your fate, but only at will’s end.
Let not the heart be turned to lead,
By a few words wanted, left unsaid.
And thus the moon pronounced the woe of many lovers… the tale of broken hearts, of love unrequited. But no… our friend is a man of courage, not easily dithered in his decision. With dawn shall he pledge, his heart love-laden, to his beloved maiden. While the moon and this man did plot the plan… in another corner of the city conspired another man. Now this other man turning out to be, the father of the bride-to-be, is a matter of sheer coincidence. And his conspiracy should concern the subject of her wedding, is again err… providence? hmmmm… Do I smell trouble? lets wait and watch…
------------ end of scene-1 --------------------
Tagged Again :-)
I have been tagged again by Jeevy [Rajeev]... And I have no clue how you create the hyperlink here... so please check for the links in section Kadiyaan towards your right.
This tag as I understand is part of some link exchange... whatever it means... :-)
1. The person who was tagged will just have to make an introduction and link back to who tagged you.
2. List your five reasons as to why you blog.
3. Choose five people and tag them.
4. Drop a comment on their blog to let them know they were tagged. And it’s done!
Five Reasons why I blog: here you go...
1. To share with people the idea of love, the feeling of brotherhood [and sisterhood. grrrr... how dare they forget the better halves?], to contribute to the society in my own little way.... [clap clap... Now do I get the Miss Universe Crown? And yeah my idol is Mother Teresa.] ;-)
2. Okie seriously... I love blogging because I feel a sense of belonging here. Every verse, every story, every word and every blank space here is mine... and I love it. It is like a "feel at home" while in office. [I blog when I am in office... hehehehe]
3. And I love the people here. I may not know each one of you personally, I may not identify you while brushing through you at the malls... I may not identify you at CCD tables, I may not know you while walking through Brigade/ MG Road... But here, the moment you utter a word, I know you... I can relate to you. :-)
4. And I blog because someone somewhere told me... "I can write". So I write... and since I am not the best writer in the world, not even the best in India. So I this is a humble abode for my mediocre dabbles at what I call creativity. And thank you all for bearing with it and encouraging me to write further. Comments mean a lot.
5. The last reason why I blog is because I cannot give sound to my words, my voice fails to word my feelings... and that my characters do for me here... I speak through them. I speak through the stories, the poems here on my blog. Hence, you always feel them more than you read them... because I have no literary genius, no word power... not even great thoughts to share... all I have is these feelings. :-)
Okie and now for the tag hunt... Today, I take this opportunity to Tag...
1. Vibhanshu: You tagged me last time...badla! hehehehe [I know u r busy... take ur time... see I am so good ;-)]
2. AKS: you have been away for quite sometime... so come on punishment time. ;-)
3. Kazarelth: I tagged you last time, but you happily ignored. better answer this time. grrrrrr
4. Protege: hehehehe you asked me where I was... so here I am. :-)
5. Aman: Yes you Standbymind. Comeon... get active. :-)
5. Miraj: Yeah you are tagged too. :-)
Enjoy everybody! cheers!
This tag as I understand is part of some link exchange... whatever it means... :-)
1. The person who was tagged will just have to make an introduction and link back to who tagged you.
2. List your five reasons as to why you blog.
3. Choose five people and tag them.
4. Drop a comment on their blog to let them know they were tagged. And it’s done!
Five Reasons why I blog: here you go...
1. To share with people the idea of love, the feeling of brotherhood [and sisterhood. grrrr... how dare they forget the better halves?], to contribute to the society in my own little way.... [clap clap... Now do I get the Miss Universe Crown? And yeah my idol is Mother Teresa.] ;-)
2. Okie seriously... I love blogging because I feel a sense of belonging here. Every verse, every story, every word and every blank space here is mine... and I love it. It is like a "feel at home" while in office. [I blog when I am in office... hehehehe]
3. And I love the people here. I may not know each one of you personally, I may not identify you while brushing through you at the malls... I may not identify you at CCD tables, I may not know you while walking through Brigade/ MG Road... But here, the moment you utter a word, I know you... I can relate to you. :-)
4. And I blog because someone somewhere told me... "I can write". So I write... and since I am not the best writer in the world, not even the best in India. So I this is a humble abode for my mediocre dabbles at what I call creativity. And thank you all for bearing with it and encouraging me to write further. Comments mean a lot.
5. The last reason why I blog is because I cannot give sound to my words, my voice fails to word my feelings... and that my characters do for me here... I speak through them. I speak through the stories, the poems here on my blog. Hence, you always feel them more than you read them... because I have no literary genius, no word power... not even great thoughts to share... all I have is these feelings. :-)
Okie and now for the tag hunt... Today, I take this opportunity to Tag...
1. Vibhanshu: You tagged me last time...badla! hehehehe [I know u r busy... take ur time... see I am so good ;-)]
2. AKS: you have been away for quite sometime... so come on punishment time. ;-)
3. Kazarelth: I tagged you last time, but you happily ignored. better answer this time. grrrrrr
4. Protege: hehehehe you asked me where I was... so here I am. :-)
5. Aman: Yes you Standbymind. Comeon... get active. :-)
5. Miraj: Yeah you are tagged too. :-)
Enjoy everybody! cheers!
Saturday, May 5, 2007
Sometimes...
Sometimes...
The throat constricts,
eyes widen,
fingers twitch,
a toe nudging on the other...
lips tremble, hesitant,
yet wanting an eager look
of the flushed face, burning hot.
A pressure on the heart,
Sinking it...
...gasping for breath...
the words die on the lips.
Sometimes...
Eyes pour,
wash out everything,
a complete sweep.
Words blurt out in plosives,
explode between the sobs...
and then a numbing silence,
a tipsy weightlessness
morphing into peaceful slumber.
:-)
The throat constricts,
eyes widen,
fingers twitch,
a toe nudging on the other...
lips tremble, hesitant,
yet wanting an eager look
of the flushed face, burning hot.
A pressure on the heart,
Sinking it...
...gasping for breath...
the words die on the lips.
Sometimes...
Eyes pour,
wash out everything,
a complete sweep.
Words blurt out in plosives,
explode between the sobs...
and then a numbing silence,
a tipsy weightlessness
morphing into peaceful slumber.
:-)
Thursday, May 3, 2007
Tagged!
Wow! I am tagged by Vibhanshu. My first, so I am enjoying it. :-)
1.Pick out a scar you have, and explain how you got it.
I don’t have a scar… marks yes… but not a scar. [See, I have exhibited a positive attitude all my life ;-)]
2. What is on the walls in your room?
Nothing… they are blank. Just one poster on the door. The room is so stuffed that if I were to add even a thing extra, the room would sink from the third floor to the second.
3. What does your phone look like?
Weird, but it feels like a dairy milk bar in my hand. It is motoslim. ;-)
4. What music do you listen to?
All kinds of hindi music with good lyrics and a music that is not too jarry.
5. What is your current desktop picture?
That’s my sweetheart… my niece. Isn’t she cute?
6. What do you want more than anything right now?
Right now I just want to run away from office, home, everything... and land up in an unknown land.
7. Do you believe in gay marriage?
No I don’t. Its not productive ;-)
8. What time were you born?
I don’t know :-(
9. Are your parents still together?
…………….
10. What are you listening to?
Right now I am listening to Khamaaj- “mora piya mo se bole naa”
11. Do you get scared of the dark?
Naah…. Scared and me? I am scared of nothing.
12. The last person to make you cry?
Ummmm... my brother, when he scolded me for getting up late in the morning. 9.00 is not that late afterall is it?
13. What is your favorite perfume/cologne?
No favourites, I keep changing.
14. What kind of hair/eye colour do you like on the opposite sex?
Brown eyes [any shade of brown]. hair: dark brown
15. Do you like pain killers?
I love them when I have a headache. Otherwise no.
16. Are you too shy to ask someone out?
For a date? Never asked. But I guess I would be.
17. Favorite pizza topping?
Olives and mushrooms… and lots of cheese.
18. If you could eat anything right now, what would it be?
Yummmy, creamy, delicious, hot, Pasta… yummmm
19. Who was the last person you made mad?
My client… hehehehehe
20. Is anyone in love with you?
Aaah love! Yeh ishq nahi aasaan…
Oh did you say in love with me? Sigh… how I wish! Hmmmm ;-)
Okie now who do I tag? Vyom is already tagged by Vibhanshu, Jeevy is already tagged and I see the same set of questions. Aks and Reaper have suddenly disappeared from blogosphere. Sushant has quit blogging. hmmm yep... caught you... Kazarelth, Shammu and Ravali. enjoy. :-)
1.Pick out a scar you have, and explain how you got it.
I don’t have a scar… marks yes… but not a scar. [See, I have exhibited a positive attitude all my life ;-)]
2. What is on the walls in your room?
Nothing… they are blank. Just one poster on the door. The room is so stuffed that if I were to add even a thing extra, the room would sink from the third floor to the second.
3. What does your phone look like?
Weird, but it feels like a dairy milk bar in my hand. It is motoslim. ;-)
4. What music do you listen to?
All kinds of hindi music with good lyrics and a music that is not too jarry.
5. What is your current desktop picture?
That’s my sweetheart… my niece. Isn’t she cute?
6. What do you want more than anything right now?
Right now I just want to run away from office, home, everything... and land up in an unknown land.
7. Do you believe in gay marriage?
No I don’t. Its not productive ;-)
8. What time were you born?
I don’t know :-(
9. Are your parents still together?
…………….
10. What are you listening to?
Right now I am listening to Khamaaj- “mora piya mo se bole naa”
11. Do you get scared of the dark?
Naah…. Scared and me? I am scared of nothing.
12. The last person to make you cry?
Ummmm... my brother, when he scolded me for getting up late in the morning. 9.00 is not that late afterall is it?
13. What is your favorite perfume/cologne?
No favourites, I keep changing.
14. What kind of hair/eye colour do you like on the opposite sex?
Brown eyes [any shade of brown]. hair: dark brown
15. Do you like pain killers?
I love them when I have a headache. Otherwise no.
16. Are you too shy to ask someone out?
For a date? Never asked. But I guess I would be.
17. Favorite pizza topping?
Olives and mushrooms… and lots of cheese.
18. If you could eat anything right now, what would it be?
Yummmy, creamy, delicious, hot, Pasta… yummmm
19. Who was the last person you made mad?
My client… hehehehehe
20. Is anyone in love with you?
Aaah love! Yeh ishq nahi aasaan…
Oh did you say in love with me? Sigh… how I wish! Hmmmm ;-)
Okie now who do I tag? Vyom is already tagged by Vibhanshu, Jeevy is already tagged and I see the same set of questions. Aks and Reaper have suddenly disappeared from blogosphere. Sushant has quit blogging. hmmm yep... caught you... Kazarelth, Shammu and Ravali. enjoy. :-)
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