Thursday, August 31, 2017

Quixote














May be a kindly Quixote might rush towards you,
May be a warrior on a white horse might rescue you
If only you let him envelop you in his loving arms,
If only you let him make you forget all your worries.

For there are no invisible windmills left to fight for,
Only the needs such as shelter or grace to live by,
Then the charm of your words to light up my days,
Or the warmth of your smile to keep me alive always.

These songs of a miracle that did move mountains,
These words that sound so simple yet difficult to say,
What the heart wanted to say all these weary years
All melting down before a miracle that's so strange

Simple yet powerful the words rush and gush out
The ways of saying "I love you" written in the skies.

#onefineday

Monday, August 28, 2017

Patience

Many repeat the words of old sages,
When they want you to acquiesce,
For crinkled ladies advice is easy,
To be as patient as mother earth.

They know not the daily struggles of love,
Battles fought for an ounce of freedom,
Several days when life goes topsy-turvy,
Outside and inside our safe homes.

Why can’t a woman live her life?
Get angry, be bold or her own self,
Without fearing who’ll think what,
Or get what she wants in life?

They say the world is not equal,
For they value sons than daughters,
Unless in old age when they need,
Someone to take care of them.

Furious words the old sages give
Any woman who dares to dream.

Friday, August 25, 2017

Dreams in Prussian Blue


Dreams in Prussian Blue (2010) by Paritosh Uttam captures the life of some Fine Arts students in Mumbai. It was recently in the news because Shyam Prasad’s new movie Artist is based on it.

Naina Trivedi, a fresher at Fine Arts College meets Michael Agnelo and his friends Abhinav and Ruchi. Michael’s passion for painting and his charisma sweep her off her feet and she realizes that she has fallen in love with him. To the dismay of her conservative Brahmin family, she leaves home to have a live-in relationship with Michael. The initial plan is that she will write and he will paint. But when they start living together, the responsibility of running the household falls on Naina as Michael does only what he is promised to do- to paint and nothing else.

Caught up in a situation from which there is no turning back, she creates a website for his paintings and calls prospective buyers and art galleries. Michael refuses to turn up for one such meeting with the owner of an art gallery and Naina calls and threatens him with a break-up. Unfortunately, Nicheal meets with an accident on the way and loses his eyesight. It is Abhinav who helps her with the bills and with Michael.

Abhinav and Ruchi live the middle class dream of a secure job, a posh apartment, plans for starting a family and having a car. Naina is distraught that Michael who used to be the best of all has come to nothing while the others are thriving. Inspite of his blindness, Michael continues to paint and she has to work hard to pay the rent and buy new canvases and paints. Abhinav advises her to give Michael used canvases and gives her a box of Prussian Blue that was there at his house.

Michael finishes 24 pictures that depict the history of painting and his exhibition draws people because of the publicity that is given to his blindness. However, Abhinav’s deceit does not stop with the Prussian Blue and Naina is caught up in a fix because of her love for Michael and gratitude for Abhinav. Will she be able to fix her strained relationship with Michael?

Just be

I think the trees don't fish for compliments,
Of making the world a better place to live in.
So full of bloated egotism and the desire
To prove yourself and bring others down.
I think the clouds don't advertise their deeds
And say its all their doing and not of others.
So sure that it is their words that really matter
And not what they think secretly at heart.
Not that I am in anyway perfect than them
But when I read the secrets of their hearts;
All hope turns to dismay and love to ashes;
Envy, anger, jealousy and real hard feelings.
Yet with smiling faces and heart full of venom
They blow their own trumpets and grumble.


Yours

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