When the going gets tough …

As the silent blue night stifles fate,

in the darkness of it’s cloak….
Heart wishes a wish,
but the clouds veil all hopes.
Masking the sparkle,
of shimmering sky-dots.
Quelling my wish -
…“sighting a shooting star”…

Winds gauge desire,
and woo a twinkle to me…
from the fathomless twilight,
a wish laden messenger I see.
Sent just for me!
…“a flickering firefly”…
When the going gets tough,
angels bestow little parcels of joy.

Original painting available on: http://www.etsy.com/listing/75694499/shooting-star-original-cat-folk-art

Evening pick-ups

Clock ticks 5.

His scent clouds my mind,

feelings clot...

His smile reflects on my lips… 

… as memory recalls his thoughts …

Speeding, faster than wind,
Panting flights of impatient stairs;
I reach that disciplining door-step;
behind which, his day is spent…

Happy muffles escape confined separation;
a known giggle churns my yearning heart,
He’s been having a good day, I sense
but did he miss me… least once???

Anxious fist knocks secured door,
hushing the other side.
Each one wishing his parent.
But this time is mine…

Door opens....
unlocking reviving smile,
tiny feet toddle; cross that last mile…
Racing,
blabbering a million words,
leaping in open arms of mine;
Melting my hectic long day,
into a moment of indescribable paradise....!!!

Dedicated to my Aum who, at the door-step of his babysitting, lightens up my evenings with his ever-warming, inseparable hug …. 

Taming the moon

From behind the milky mist of floating clouds,
admiring earth’s beauty from the darkness of his skies...
Hiding, peeping,
secretly enjoying his freedom;
from her sheltered shadows all fortnight…

He reflects majestic sheen for once…
in the restless ocean mirrors of her tearing salty eyes...
Envious... just today;
as her moon flaunts his radiance, detached…
… undespised …

Raging at the horizon, swelling voluptuous waves
foaming into magnificent roars of emotions;
longing for her beloved
… to snuggle back in the tamed warmth of her bosom…

Whilst he, henpecked;
     yearns his own existence…
     until the next full moon blossoms…

painting by Julie Evrette

Penning a wandering though in the moonlight….
as ears enjoy the sounds of the hypnotized sea
Thanks to the gravitational magic of the mighty moon…..!!!

Wish a mountain….

Each day a new sun shines,
warms my existence with it’s glistening smile,
pours gay pails of soul in my life,
to maneuver tough curves, I thrive.

Wish a mountain, I grow to be,
folding all weathers in my memory with glee,
layering each experience neatly,
forgiving the harsh, not forgetting any…. 

Remembering, learning from every stone that rolled,
leaving it’s marks, scaring my soul,
chiseling new character, in me
I shall cherish every imprint you leave.

Nestling fossils in my womb,
securing each bruise to enhance, improve,
you will only bring out the best in me,
with every shed tear, stronger I shall be…

Peaking the sky, closer than yesturday,
relentlessly spinning gold from strands of hay....
To be a mountain; I wish, I be....
Never shall you, ever break me!

Dear Aum,

Oh tiny bud of mine…

who will blossom one day to a vibrant flower,

but shall not remember these beautiful times,

when your naïve fragrance filled my garden of memories with joy.

In stormy weathers,

when existence was thorny;

you smiled…..

     … guiding me through …

You forgave and forgot my errors,

Discreetly swallowing my deeds of amateur motherhood

…without even uttering a word,

Still crawling back in my arms for comfort…

making me even more stronger…

… molding me,

                ‘your mother’…

My tree

A seed was sown
long ago… by Matri* herself…
That grew into a colossal banyan
                       and lend me his help…
I was a wanderer searching for self
with life packed in bags and a child on shoulder,
The tree gave me comfort under his soothing shade
and taught me in tender whispers…
I had just begun to feel the rustling
of his ever green thoughts in the wind…
And was quaintly attracted,
to his philosophies of being…
When suddenly,
                   disappeared the enchanting …
the tree abandoned his soul...
Leaving all of us behind,
orphaned …. alone
But a seedling of that banyan dispersed
sometime ago….
A budding Shilpataru*…
like her pitaji* shall continue to grow…



Dedicated to late Kaka*, who peeped into my heart in just a few meets and mesmerized my soul with his charming philosophies and talks. And Kirti - our Shilpataru; knowing kaka was not possible without a warm welcome into your home….

Thank you for blessing me with those few precious moments.... 







*

Matri - the Mother http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mirra_Alfassa,

Shilpataru - an art foundation run by Kirti  http://www.shilpataru.org/, 

Pitaji - the way Kirti addressed her father (means 'father' in Hindi)

Kaka - the way I addressed Kirti's father (means 'uncle' in Marathi)

Adventures of India

The word ‘India’ is synonymous to ‘Adventure’. My life here has never run out of spice. There is always something new, odd and eventful happening around me. And now accompanied by my little Columbus, who has already been across three countries in 10 months life span; my life is even more happening….

The other day I was giving Aum a bath. The bathroom echoed melodies of splashing water, goo-goo songs and my screams. The moist walls of the tiny bathroom enveloped shear warmth of mother’s love, a child's affection and the summers of India. It was a striking moment…. drops of water trickled down our bodies…. Only, his were tap water droplets and mine: salty sweat!

Anyways, as per the daily ritual, I Johnson soaped him. But the wicked bar slipped out of my hands sliding swiftly on the slippery tiles.
That was it!!!
My Columbus had discovered another interesting thing….!!!

He dove behind the rounded bar of white soap sliding just as swiftly out of my hands as the soap; flat on his tummy making his way towards his exciting discovery in a breaststroke. His little arms and legs were squabbling as fast as possible, swimming in the scanty waters of the bathroom; skidding effortlessly to grab the soapy wonder. But the naughty bar kept cheating him…. The minute those tiny fingers caught hold of that slippery brat, it would leap out like a mouse escaping his trap…

This cat-rat race had become a daily routine… until one day another member joined out family spa.

The bathing ritual was done and the breaststroke chase had just commenced when I realised that I had forgotten Aum’s towel in the bedroom. I left the best mates at their game and ran out to fetch the towel…
But when I returned the scene had changed…
Little Columbus had found another pal. The soap was soaking in the corner moaning his ignorance... and Aum was giggling and applauding the skillful backstrokes of a half dead cockroach. The cockroach was floating on his back in the shallow lather of Aum’s bath and was wriggling his 'not so many' legs in an uncoordinated fashion; as if, pleading for rescue. Just before Aum decided to give him first-aid: ‘CPR’; I promptly leaped into the situation.

Well I don’t know whom I was rescuing… but I hurled the drowning soul to freedom. I threw him out of the bathroom window. I could hardly see where his destiny took him; not that I cared…
But certainly, I had hurt the feelings of my little explorer by shooing away his new-mate without even allowing him to give it his farewell kiss…

Like a river….

She knows not the lives she touches;
naively meandering through rocky beds,
pouring life into souls thriving on the lush banks….

Soaked in whirlpool; struggling, gushing into waterfalls of happiness,
she knows not the breeze she blesses; impregnating it with cool droplets of self,
casting rainbow as she escapes into green paths of the forest….

Ripples laden with dreams of the majestic ocean,
she knows not her kindness, whilst frolicking through obstacles,
fantasying paradise, craving her goal, the ultimate union… those starry-eyes….




Dedicated to our dear friends who have come forth to help us in our difficult times in spite of the big changes in their lives. They might not have known, but their little doings have changed our lives remarkably.
A million thanks from the three of us…. :)

Tanka*

My first attempt... !

~ Lakshmi ~

elegance trumpets
through green streets plucking lush trees
payal* sing, bells ring
heads bow for blessings as she
enters the Ganesh Mandir*

*payal - anklet, Ganesh Mandir - temple of hindu deity most widely worshipped in the Hindu pantheon

An everyday visit to the Manakula Vinayagar Temple, Pondicherry
to meet Lakshmi

*Tanka (short poem) is a genre of classical Japanese poetry and one of the major genres of Japanese literature.

Form : Tanka consist of five units (often treated as separate lines when romanized or translated) usually with the following pattern of onji:
5-7-5-7-7.




http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tanka_(poetry)

A stormy romance

The soaring waves tell tales of the dreamland at the ocean bed,
bursting into laughter’s of foam at the shore

The shore patiently hosts the guests from the sea,
discreetly urging them to return home with gentle nudges of sand

At the horizon, a solitary ship tangos the wind; hypnotised by it’s naughty currents
The twinkling tip of the sail kindles the light of their romance; wishing onboard a Bon Voyage….



A big thanks to the beaches of Pondicherry and rejuvenating walks with Aai (mom) and Aum by the sea as a daily routine…..

Sleep...

A thin cotton sheet crawls up a tired sleeping being

and gently heaves to the rhythm of his breath.

Ceiling fan spins the song of silence

in a soothing hum of calming breeze.

The muslin shivers to the winds from the ceiling,

tenderly patting the soul to dreams.

Cuddled in the warmth of mother pondy*

rests a tired man from a long day at work,

in search of a peaceful blink.

Scribbled as I hear my father snore after a long, hectic day at work.

*Pondy - Puducherry or Pondicherry, a union territory in Tamil Nadu, southern India… where Aum and me are currently enjoying our vacation with my parents and defrosting ourselves at 42 degrees from the chills of London.

a vulnerable duo

Innocence peeps at me from behind wrinkled cozy quilt,
with a hope to be cuddled in my warmth.

Tears plead for a humming lullaby,
to drift back in dreams.

A kiss from the bed-sheet crease,
leaves its impressions on plum cheek.

Sobs lean with open arms yearning to be held;
leaping compassionately at me….

It is this beguiling moment, when I discover the mother in me;

the vulnerability of duo, that completes me….

Partying the Daffodils

Rays flow down
quaint blue skies,
from behind white fluffs
casting silver lines,
like the glow of an angel -
everlasting serene,
gliding down from heavens,
to meadows green...

Crisp warm shadows swarm
cobbled narrow streets,
painting complexions
snow-white to pink;
Inviting mortals
to blossoms and bees,
it's spring in the Kingdom
of the British Queen....
With mother nature hosting,
a lush gathering;
mongst flowering dogwoods,
and sunny daffodils...

in admiration... dogwood blossoms

Fly away birdie

Weary wings, burdened, heavy...
Fluttering to fly far away,
farewell to high flights, oh sweet birdie,
tiedth to thy nest art thou today.
Little ones await thy warmth birdie,
living their dreams through thy eyes.
Thy acts encrypth, their future birdie,
thy breath.... their life....
Mother thou art, oh sweet birdie,
most nobel, generous being of all.

Thy life nay not thy ownth birdie
Belongth to thy little ones.... thy all....



I have three children.
Two boys and a girl.
The youngest is 32 weeks old and the eldest 32 years.

There is a fine line between being a mother and a wife....

I love being that woman; playing both rolls... 'mostly the mother'.... 

But my boys demand so much attention, that the little girl within gets neglected the most. This poem is for her....

Thai High

I could feel my head lighter… Captain Morgan + Coke was definitely working. The ice-cubes in my glass were singing a song of intoxication along with the slice of lemon as I took another sip. I knew I was high… I looked at Aum sleeping peacefully in his pram and the chimes in my brain tingled to the winds of freedom…

I wanted to jump and do the dance of victory… But I composed my extreme happiness in that blissful Thai environment…

Husband was sitting right across the table. His face lit with the rays of a red candle romantically placed in the centre of the table. It was about a year since we last had such a dinner. It was in Abu Dhabi, Intercontinental, in our favourite Italian restaurant. That was our last date before the arrival of our monster and this was our first after the arrival.

The walls of the restaurant were red. The lighting was perfectly dim to vanish post-pregnancy blemishes of my cheeks and make me look as fresh as a peach... There were thai mermaids and hawk bodied, ornate ladies carved in wood; serenely watching over husband and me from the mural… It was a dream!!!

A dainty young ‘Thai’ girl in beautifully woven ‘Thai’ dress came to us with her ‘Thai’ menu. Husband did the thinking and I did the leching. Her tummy was enviously flat; figure as slender as Indian snake-gourd and skin as translucent as Bajirao Mastani…

Well for those who do not know about Mastani; she was the Cleopatra of India…(digging into the books of Indian history) Peshwa chronicles say that when Mastani ate beetle leaf (Paan), its juice could be seen traveling down her throat in a crimson line.

So that is how enticing my evening was… For a second I felt lesbian strikes fly through my head… But a glance at husband’s candle lit face; straighten my thoughts. Also, watching the product of our love, sleeping happily in his pram, parked beside our table helped…

Apart from all the beauty that lingered around, I think the food bagged top prize…

Snake-gourd woman arranged our plates and cutlery of 'Brass'… I know! Even I was at complete awe. Like seriously! Who serves in Brass plates nowadays??? And that too in London!!!

Well… then she floated gracefully to our table with a wok of green thai curry warmed with a tea light candle, a fancy porcelain bowl of rice and a platter of grilled prawns. She looked like an angel sent from Thailand to the UK just to pamper down trodden like us. That paragon of virtue also served us rice. And right then I knew; I was in the Shangri-la of London…

The food was pure heaven. Grilled prawns were tingly spicy and the curry was smoothly orgasmic… Husband and me shamelessly moaned as we mouthed every spoon of that Thai cuisine. After all we deserved it!

Anyways under the spell of hypnosis, I completely forgot to check the name of the restaurant. If interested, it is bang outside Cutty Sark DLR station. A definite ‘No Miss’…

     

Touching....

I normally feed Aum with Youtube on. He loves watching his nursery rhymes while having his meal.... or rather it helps me get food down his throat effortlessly....
This advertisement was aired before the actual video started.... just like in theaters. They always show adverts before the movie starts. I so hate these ads as they only make my life difficult. I have to tame my monster that much longer. But this one was heart melting......
Enjoy!

Bizarre bits of happiness!

It has been ages since I last posted. But I have been busy raising a child. A child that has already started crawling and standing up on his two chubby feet. So you can imagine the amount of calories that I have been burning.... not that it has created any empty spaces in my jeans (especially around the hip area), but I feel fit from all the round the clock workout... or rather terribly drained and utterly tired....

I was giving Aum a bath last evening when suddenly I realised that my happiness now revolves around such bizarre things... 

I think a mother's job is the weirdest of all. Once you become a mom, you start enjoying all kinds of silly things like your baby's firsts (sneeze, smile, babble, etc.) and also some really disgusting jobs....

For example picking your baby's nose. I have seen mothers do this even in public... 

Now imagine someone desperately trying to reach his nasal cavity on a bus or a train and the look people would give him.... But when a mom goes hunting down her baby's rabbit holes with her gigantic pinkie there are smiles on faces around them....

I 'so' look forward to cleaning Aum's nose after his evening bath. I plan this delightful ritual of nose-picking in advance. If I am going to gently squeeze the goop out while washing his face in bath or venture in those tiny nostrils with a twisted tissue and fish the marvelous lump of mucus out... the later being enormously satisfying. I often find myself twitching the whole day like an OCD patient to get into that tulip nose to exterminate those nasal monsters the minute they pop-up.

Another disgusting act that I passionately look forward to is, cleaning the poo...

Aum has his cycle set. He poos first thing in the morning. So whoever gets up first has to carefully get him out of his cot as his nappy is loaded. I often try and act as if I am tired and have had a rough night so that darling husband can do the honours.... But I diligently check and enquire about the texture, consistency, smell and colour of my son's mighty poo. 

I remember the time when I fought with the hospital nurse a couple of days after birth giving. She was so helpful that she just would not allow me to change my son's nappy! I have to admit, it was the most joyous of acts husband and me indulged in; apart form creating Aum. Just like 'do it yourself' Ikea assemblies, we were planning and discussing who would hold the legs up, who would wipe that tiny bum, the amount of pressure to be applied around the "sensitive area" so as to get it sanitised without squashing that precious package.....It was wonderful! 

There are so many such quirky moments that one cherishes as a mother. Like flying poo, vomits in cleavage while burping the baby, indiscreet 'baby' farts in public that arouse a sense of suspicion in minds of many and many more. 

Well thats my life for now and I am thoroughly loving it....with a secret hope that this is just a phase that will pass soon..... ;)  

Library of Scents ~

First shower of rain on parched dry earth; damp, dusky scent fills the air,
almost like the earthy fragrance of empty terra-cotta,
whose thirst has just been quenched ~
Brings back memories of the first day in school, after a long summer break,
and the smell of the imperfect sable print, sandwiched between yellow textbook pages,
wish I could bury my head in ~
The sweet raspberry perfumed eraser - soft, spongy in touch; correcting pencil scribbled spelling-mistakes,
tumbles down the desk, disappearing in the black-shoes' maze,
a flicker-fairy absconds it, I guess ~

Life goes on, progressing each day; hopping jobs, places, meeting new friends,
getting married, making home, bloating big - getting pregnant,
giving birth - a big milestone attained ~
And a sniff of a cozy baby blanket, snuggled in velvety, powdery, fresh, johnson smell,
another addition to the library of nostalgic moments, compiled with vivid aromas,
an ever expanding archive of beautiful events ~










Recently, I was making Aum's bed; (as always) I sniffed his blanket before laying it down. It was neatly folded and tucked away under a pile of clothes, unused for quite sometime. 
It was last used in India; when Aum was few days old. It smelt of all the lovely lotions and oils.... It smelt of my mom's home, where Aum and me started our journey together.... 
Instantly, I had tears in my eyes.... 
my mind just zoomed back in time amidst fond memories, I shall cherish for the rest of my life....

Urgency

Urgency

We often find ourself a slave to nature's calls....
I am sure that even Hitler must have surrendered to it a million times before jumping off his window... ;)

Old

Feeble walk,
as slow as snail,
grappling for support,
a figure frail...
Hands thin,
almost skeleton shows,
pinch that skin,
slowly crawling back it goes.
Face parched,
neck laden with wattle,
even when stationary,
head constantly wobbles...
Expressions of concern,
eyes awaiting loved ones,
although vision blurred,
mind clearly dreams on...
Memory momentary,
disappears in flash,
living in past glory,
some stories, some laughs...
Each day a bonus,
whole life has passed,
some living it all
others didn't last...



Missing my aaji (grandmother) .....

A marvelous new year's eve....

Eye-lids heavy, drifting vague;
finally anchor, the floating brain...
Dreaming back-in-time, to the new year's eve,
at the bottom of the earth, in the deep blue sea.

Like a mermaid with radiant scales, no gears or flippers,
swimming weightless, amongst coral, vibrant creatures...
Sudden flashes of light, seen from the world above,
at the strike of 12.... fire-crackers blow-on....

They burst into beautiful, wide umbrellas of sparkle,
enlightening the marine-fauna, swaying to the rhythm of wild-waters....
Heart submerged in euphoria, looking up to skies,
thanking 'Him' for delights of nature, from ocean-belly turquoise...

And a beat skips, eyes wide with awe;
seeing immaculate Dolphins, against the glittering backdrop,
their skins shimmer, to the dancing lit ripples,
singing the song of silence, in language of whistles...
Under the liquid roof of the ocean,
anonymous me,
enjoying the miracles of mind's creative notions....





Dedicated to all the gifted people, the wild mad dreamers....


"Dream and give yourself permission to envision a You that you choose to be."
Joy Page




I am truly amazed with the power of mind. I spend all my day time cleaning poo and vomit, taking my 4 month old, Aum to toddler groups, reading parenting books, chatting endlessly about baby probs and more with other mommies.... and then in my dreams, I visit all these fancy places; half of which I don't even remember...

My first post.... drunk!

Well...

Hello (v.nervous... 2 wine glasses down... ),

This is my first post!
I have finally decided to go public. Trying to gather all my strength and be brave.....

I have been blogging for the last 3-4 years and have never had the courage to make it public. But I nurture a dream.... a dream of being a writer some day...
To be frank, I always tell my husband to publish all my writings once I die.
HELLO... I am just 29; will turn awful 30 this year... !!!
I don't think I could live through the controversies. Timid... I know.

I guess, the birth giving process (recently accomplished... gave birth to my beautiful son Aum) has left behind some daring hormones, which are compelling me to flash my thoughts out in the open.....

I do not know, how much of a success this blog is going to be or how many would like to read about a 'Nobody' like me...
but for sure, I will have no regrets when I die.... ;)



I have to admit; apart from the jumpy hormones, I think it is also the wine in my blood that is deluding my thoughts... think I mentioned it before... oops!
I SHOULDN'T BE DOING THIS.....!!!