Merry Christmas

Spring

Handpicked

In many shades, the choices abound;
So tempting to the surprised buyer's mind.
In earthen shades, mud brown or tan,
Or in tints of the ocean, blue and green. 

The choices are too many, each unique
Be it the drape of emerald or turquoise;
The hues of the skies: rainy, cloudy,
Bright, grey or shades of the twilight. 

The mystic magic of the silver raindrops
The pure red on the bride's forehead,
All before me in the form of these drapes
That each look matchless and perfect. 

From the heap before me, I choose a hue
To bring a wordless wonder on your face.

diary of a female quixote

Gratitude

translation of the poem nandi by sugathakumari

To the sunbeams beaming on my path, I owe my gratitude.

To the heavy burden that I carry on my shoulders, I owe my gratitude.

To the shade offered by the wayside trees and to the cuckoo on the tree-top, I owe my gratitude.

To the sharp pain that pricked me on the way and to the sun which reddened my eyes, I owe my gratitude.

To the shoulders which lightened the heavy burden I was carrying and to the well on the wayside, I owe my gratitude.

To your kindness for pouring water into my outstretched palms, I owe my gratitude.

To the treacherous gutters of darkness and to the cool moonlight that was there last night, I owe my gratitude.

To the tiny wildflowers spread on the path and to the birdsong that comes from above, I owe my gratitude.

To the never-ending flow of tears from my eyes and to the compassion that never dies, I owe my gratitude.

In the distance, I can see a lamp lit and offered by someone and I spend my time alone looking at this, with nothing to treasure, with no knowledge for sure, with no blossoms, with no morning.

Humming a song, I follow the direction of a tender call from  somewhere and did you stand and listen to that, dear friends?

Gratitude...gratitude...gratitude

#translation
#poem
#sugathakumari

handpicked

You love the colors of the Earth: the brown of mud, the emerald of the leaves, the blue of the sky, the aquamarine of the ocean, the  golden shades of falling leaves and the red of the sun.  Like a connoisseur of shades, you choose from the options available, drapes that are unique and tell you a story. 

Your eyes lock on a saree that tells you a story in a shade that you have always wanted. You look at wonder at how the maiden managed to capture the heart of the one she desired and held his hand throughout his life through life's ups and downs. 

You remember how as a young bride you glowed basking in his love and your heart misses a beat when you remember the response on his face when he sees you draped in a hue that he loves. Then I think of how you look at me when I wear a saree that you like and it is with this gaze of wordless wonder in mind that I choose a drape from the heap of sarees before me. 

You remember his expression when he first saw you as a bride dressed in emerald green and later in chilly red manthrakodi. From the options available, you choose a drape shaded  neelakurinji flowers expecting to see an expression of wordless wonder on his face. 

Best Friend

I haven't had a true friend in years. Some bitter experiences have made me change my nature and I have become a recluse in the few years. I wonder what it means to be close to someone, to be able to say honestly what is there in your mind. 

For years, you depend on yourself when in trouble and you lean on your inner strength rather than finding an ear to your troubles. You counsel and guard yourself out of all situations and often you wonder, am I the only one content with the quiet loneliness and struggles to talk to others frankly and openly? 

Am I the only one who have been hurt by a friend so much that life has never been the same after it? Then, the recompense in such an experience is that you never lean on any shoulder but wait for your heart to give you the answer.

#best friend

#definitions

Kindle Scribe

Best friend

I haven't had a true friend in years. Some bitter experiences have made me change my nature and I have become a recluse in the few years. I wonder what it means to be close to someone, to be able to say honestly what is there in your mind. 

For years, you depend on yourself when in trouble and you lean on your inner strength rather than finding an ear to your troubles. You counsel and guard yourself out of all situations and often you wonder, am I the only one content with the quiet loneliness and struggles to talk to others frankly and openly? 

Am I the only one who have been hurt by a friend so much that life has never been the same after it? Then, the recompense in such an experience is that you never lean on any shoulder but wait for your heart to give you the answer.