January 1

The new year began quietly in the church during the holy mass. The choir sang the Ta Deum, to which I sang along quite gleefully. It was good to hear the sounds of the firecrackers in the distance. After the mass, I knelt down and prayed for the blessings that will come my way this year- blessings for my family and him, the one I love. I wondered where he might be now- at home or at some party with his friends.

In the evening, I got a New Year card from him- so beautiful that I went teary-eyed after reading it. wished him back. I thought of how I got friendly with him at work and from a complete stranger, he had become very close in a short span. Now, he is an integral part of my life and I feel that I need him to stay in my life. Regarding new year resolutions, I want consistent positive improvement in the six spheres of my life- physical, spiritual, social, emotional, financial and educational.

Diary of a Female Quixote

Silence

We stood before the altar of silence and I know that this was an amazing experience for both of us, for you who had stayed away from God, and for me, who have always revered the God of silence. Even, in those moments of silence, I have known that this was meant to be. Somewhere in my dreams, I have known a world like this, not in the exact details that matter in every way.

For the wise have written, it is written that whatever has to happen will happen. For a strange reason I’d never believed in this attitude and after coming here, am surprised to find whatever I’ve wanted put in a manner that I cannot believe my own eyes and this is really a wonderful way of understanding that life is kind towards you and me. 

For long, I went on defining you and me, as we are at this moment. You wait for words of praise from me, while I give silence; while I look for looks of appreciation from you, while you give inquiring glances. You speak at times, in tongues that I don’t understand and at times I do not want to comprehend at all what you leave unsaid with your silences. Yet I pause to listen, when your eyes trace my face for what I’m feeling. You say I bring sunshine to your hitherto drab life, that you have never known happiness like this and that these past days of togetherness are the best of your life.

I agree, though I feel the same, I keep quiet, for once uttered this might change into a cliché that needs to be repeated again and again, until the words become worthless like treasures from childhood. Instead I smile and keep your words safe in silence.

A cup of comfort

Your words taste like a sip of hot coffee
That I drink for comfort during my day
To soothe my throat, to bring some life,
To clear away all the weariness of spirit.

They pull me out of my tent of isolation
That I weave out  of every crisis I've been
They come out of things that hurt you most
To bring a catharsis always, laughter or tears.

They were about the troubles you overcame,
By finding relief in self-expression in words
Got comforted by strong shoulders, kind arms
And a strong loving heart you called home.

Far away or close at hand, this cup of comfort
Stays around with me like your coffee perfume. 

A Perpetual Wish

Have a nice Day!

Definitions

You, my lord, have many names and many faces. That's what I, who loves you like a devotee think- chanting your name every day and viewing you in each and every passing face. You are never seen only imagined as near me, with me and always in love with me.

Your stories have become legends; your memory like a burst of monsoon raga. No wonder the relation between you and m elude me like an unnamed scent. Once when in love or anger, you scattered my name across the land as a battle to be won. You barged into my space for a drop of love, for a little shelter from the cruel world.

Many a battle was won in silence; in those long months, when I faded away into insignificance and when your desperate words reached nowhere in real. Whatever the outcome, you and me were someday worshippers at some unknown sacred space. That's how the circles have remained as changing and dynamic forever.

Rebus

Miss those days
When people texted more than
Yes, No, ok, and what?
Sent meaningful long sentences,
Properly capitalised, spelt
(For the Purists only) 
And spaced meaningfully

There were friends
Who could match wit with wit
Anger with anger
Repartee with repartee
All in matter of seconds when
SMS Alerts were from people
Not spam sent from machines.

Miss those days
When people texted in words
Sent invites, reminders
Missing U msgs not just in rebus
like "need2seeu2moro" but
"I missed you a lot today, my dear
and want to see you tomorrow
Near the white plumeria.

Perfect Match

How long have we belonged to only to each other?
That day since we took a quiet walk of togetherness,
Though it is as though we have always belonged
To each other across the ages in a sacred sense.

Coffee kisses, pasta lunches, candlelit dinners,
Shared moments of togetherness well-cherished
The perfect wine that we tasted last and so deep,
Not first love nor the first riot of purple passions.

There might have been others before you and me
Countless love-stories that taught us heartbreaks;
The many roles that you and I played across lives,
The sense of having known each other all along.

But I do remember us walking around the holy fire
Quietly chanting mantras of eternal togetherness.

#deepveer

The Ibis Trilogy

The Ibis Trilogy written by Amitav Ghosh consists of the novels Sea of Poppies (2008), River of Smoke (2011) and Flood of Fire (2015). Constructed on an epic scale, this trilogy shows the interconnected lives of people across India, China and Mauritius, all united by the factor that they were colonies of the British empire. The fates of these people are connected to the trade of opium, which was produced in India as a commercial crop much to the ruin of the Indian economy and extensively sold in China causing addiction among the Chinese population.

The first book of the trilogy,  Sea of Poppies begins with the life of Deeti or Kabutri-ki-ma, whose husband works in an opium factory and is addicted to opium. When her husband dies and she is tormented by her husband’s brother (who happens to be Kabutri’s father), she runs away with Kalua, a man from a lower caste. To escape from persecution, they join a group of people who are transported to Mauritius as girmitiyas on the ship Ibis. The other people whose lives become interlinked during the journey are  Zachary Reid, Miss Paulette Lambert, Jodu, Ah Fatt and Neel. The first book criticises the British introduction of opium as a compulsory crop in the place of food crops ruining the Indian farmers. 

The second book River of Smoke describes the girmitayas’ life on the island of Mauritius and their adventures. The British and the Indian traders earn fortunes by bringing opium to China until the Chinese government takes steps to prevent the large-scale influx of opium. The government takes preventive steps against opium addiction and they seize and burn the imported opium. The traders become discontented at this and have to flee for their lives. Neel and Ah Fatt escapes from the ship Ibis along with a few lascars. Mr. Bahram, the Parsi trader who happens to be Ah Fatt’s father appoints him as his munshi. This book is set mostly in Canton against the background of the First Opium War and shows how the Chinese cannot live without opium. 

The third book Flood of Fire spans across British India, China and Mauritius, where Deeti and her descendants have established themselves as settlers in the plantation. In the midst of the First Opium War,a  ship Hind sails from India to China with Zachary Reid in search of Paulette and with Shireen Modi who wants to get back her dead husband’s wealth. However, Zachary Reid forgets Pauline and has an affair with Mrs. Burnham, who becomes a likeable character as opposed to the first book where she creates all kinds of problems for Pauline. This book depicts Zachary’s initiation into the ways of the world. 

The unknown

The Four Agreements

Love what you do

Hero worship

How would I put into words what I remember about you after all these years?
When I want to write about you, I see the chinks that I have found in your armour.

Yet the you of my imagination and the real you have grown so apart that I guess I would never recognise you if I saw you somewhere in real.
But this heart has loved you in ways that the one who owns you can never even imagine!

An evening

In the midst of this summer tedium,we meet again,
In the same old park where we used to sit around, 
Reading books and chatting for hours altogether, 
While the ancient tabeubia trees bore us witness. 

Once again, the carpet of pink blossoms is made, 
For you and me to sit and doodle with lifelessons-
The serious thoughts about the angst of this life , 
The trivial thoughts about the colours in the world. 

You are a strong shoulder that I had let go earlier, 
Your few words fill me with so much of happiness, 
I am the mighty wordsmith in whom you believe, 
The one who can conjure up new worlds in verse.

You and I talk of the serious and trivial meet again, 
In our old hang-out under the same ancient trees.

Eternal Silence

On that rainy day,
A couple walked past us,
Huddled together.

You and I, we walked
Hurriedly, drenched
In the rain and silent.

Your shy eyes lingered
Now and then on me,
Happy like a child.

With throbbing heart
With hungry eyes
I stowed away your magic.

You never said a word
I never said a word,
Only silence and the rain spoke.

When we spoke at last
It was with indifference
To the magic between us.

So we threw away the words
And the magic between us
What is left now is only silence.

Summer Rains

 Pic Courtesy: the web :-)

There are no songs of the summer showers without you,

There is no summer tedium that doesn’t burst into rain,

When a good old love like ours is remembered in time,

When your wet hair and shiny eyes can bring a downpour. 

In that summer of uncertainties a billion decades back,

When it scorched and blazed into unquenchable fires,

We might have stood at the same crossroads unawares,

We might have been the chemistry that burnt a world.

Still, I remember how the songs burst into summer rains,

Still, I remember how you will never say what you want,

Probe me just to find out what I am thinking right now,

Yet not recognize may be it was about you that I thought.

The words remain concealed in our sacred spaces forever,

The few random lines of poetry that fails to give recompense.

Good Fortune

There was no good luck on my cards today
For you were not there to cheer up my day, 
For the days have made you so special
That I don't have words to tell you how. 

Not that I am what you want me to be
Not that I do what you really want me to
For I evade your eyes and your smile 
Flitting across like a mirage with you. 

Yet without your smile no day is perfect, 
Your sunshine that radiates joy for me, 
My eyes roam around your empty space 
As if you are seated where you do normally. 

The memory of your smile flashes to me 
And a stupid grin spreads across my face. 

Soul Friend

I haven’t had a true friend in years, one that listened and criticized and encouraged and beat the shit out of my foggy two-mind. But you are that wonderful find, one in a million, who looks at things in the eye, takes the best and ignores the rest. I feel the difference when I speak to the rest who speak twisted truths and create stories out of nothingness. I have been bearing this cross of life for years but it feels lighter when your hands support me and your prayers encourage me.  You are my best wine, mellowed and intact that keeps me chin up during the toughest of these times.