Hope for a New Day!

( Image taken while flying to Mumbai)

Dawn of a new day, bright is the light from the Sun!
As I look out of the small window, a sea of clouds remind me of stories I read as a child – Jack and the Beanstalk! The big bad giant who had a hen that laid golden eggs, the Harp that spoke and all the golden coins the giant would steal from the villagers!
The land seems so far that one really cant see anything at all.
The clouds , so pure, so white and the rays of the Sun on them gives them a heavenly look! They seem to travel together in groups, from one land to another, from one country to another like messengers of Love, peace and happiness. As if they speak “ I come from a land where there is no hatred, there is only love, there is only brotherhood”
The Blue sky holds them on its vast chest, yet the freedom to float and travel in a direction they all wish to go! No rules yet so disciplined!
When I am on the ground and look up at the endless blue sky,I have always wondered what would be above the clouds ?
And here I am, above them all to be able to see the boundary less sky – no borders, no divisions at all!
I felt like a bird , rising , scaling heights as if exploring the limits and what I could break !
A journey like a free bird in the bright blue sky – Unnmukht Gagan!

Sweet Memories of a sunday afternoon

A lazy, quiet Sunday afternoon, a sumptuous lunch under a softly whirling fan! On the table; conversations on price rise, recipes, the taste buds tingling as the covers lift and we salivate! Our favourite – Chicken curry ! The wonderful Sunday afternoon Lunch!
We sat, a family relishing the fruits of hard work through the week in our own ways, was reminded of the Hindi saying “Mehenat ka phal Meetha hota hai!”
( sweet are the fruits of labour!) Don’t know if it is the right translation, Anyway!
Its almost an hour, till we all finished and the plates Clean! My Thakuma (Grandmother) and I had a love hate relationship but this is one occasion we were both very supportive. She ate slowly and spoke less! You knew then, the lunch was good! She didn’t know management principles of Praising when things were right! No comments meant great job done!
Cling! clang ! The sound of dishes being put aside, and a grumbling me, who had to clean the table while Ma put the extras aside – oh! who ever invented the Refrigerator! The wonder machine! What a blessing ! The chicken tastes better when eaten later! The thought brought in a smile on my otherwise grumpy face!
The radio played the favourites on “Musical Bandbox”. All those numbers that are today referred to as “Retro music” – a Cliff Richards, a Simon Garfunkel and an Abba! The RJ’s never spoke so much as they do now!
Dad would light his carefully made cigarette… the pouch with fresh tobacco – I loved the smell! A small secret - that I had once tried the art of making the same …. And was caught just before I could strike a light! What an experience! I could tell from one brand to the other – sometimes it was Van Gogh, sometimes a Prince Henry or a Wills ! The logic behind making it so painstakingly was to lessen the number of cigarettes a day! Did it work? Well….
Between the fresh smell of the tobacco, quick plans for the evening were made, hoping that no unexpected, friendly relative with bags full of gossip drop in…. Then, all our plans would be a drop out!
So many such small things come to my mind as a Sunday afternoon goes by now. Like a movie, images of our childhood, voice of Dad, of my dear Thakuma, the aroma of freshly cooked food, the whistle of the cooker and so on.. I live each moment again and a smile crosses my lips and heavy eyelids close down on a silent, much awaited siesta!

Dilli ki Sardi! ( Winter in Delhi)

( January 2010 at Gurgaon, 8:30 am)

I was so frozen stiff that I could get line to rhyme… and hence this form of writing!
Was I dreaming or was it really the sound of my mobile reminding me that it was time to be up and about!
Lazily I got up and as if in a sleepwalk; moved towards the window in my room.
My hand reached out to touch it … and as if a 220 volt had struck me… the cold hit me and woke up all my senses! Brrrrrrr….. So cold! And I could see nothing at all…
I was reminded of Tom of the Tom & Jerry fame… when ice cold water would be poured on him and that to when he was caught unaware; as most of the time he is !
Well, I was in Gurgaon- NCR! Temperatures dropped and the fog! Am sure even Punjabi/ Haryanvi humour would not be enough to warm things!
The warm room caused precipitation on the cold window!

The tree across the road stood stiff, frozen gray! The whole surrounding reminded me of a set up from a
horror movie where the sky would suddenly burst….
Oh Let me think – as If there was a whole glass of water split over a canvas of water color painting! Blurred lights, the gray, blue, green forming a tone I can’t describe!
Turned around and looked at the time – I can’t believe it – It was 8:30 am!

Waiting Hopefully

The sound of bullets, tore the peaceful sky into pieces,
Was it my imagination? Or did it actually happen?
Ah! It’s a year now gone by, since they killed mercilessly!
What happened there after? Well, we light candles, fight in the parliament,
But who will wipe the tears of the little one who has lost everything !
He does not even know what really happened, he just can’t feel his mother around!
People talk, Just talk, - but walk the talk?
Well – lets wait and watch, till they finish there own game – “Kissa Kursi ka!”
Am not angry, just pained, at the apathy,
An unknown policeman, an ordinary man, who cares?
He waits in custody, trial ? The country bleeds to protect this lone killer !
How long ? Is a question we ask, we the people, How long do we have to wait,
For justice, for safety, for peace, for a better world that we can leave behind.
What a difficult question? Any answers….Its a year gone by! .... and answers?
They are waiting – The generation next.

Growing Up

Did I hear a laughter or was it a cry?
Was it sorrow or happiness that went by?
We hear so many things as we walk the path of life
Some we understand and some we connive!
What is right & what is wrong
Question after question in our minds throng.
Can we forget and forgive the past?
Is it easy or through lives does it last?

Balancing the debits & credits; we do so oft
We forget the nice, the beautiful, the kind and the soft!
Memories like clouds drift around
I relive each one till reality brings me crashing to the ground!

All those games we played as a child,
Today they seem like a dream, facing life; with nowhere to hide!
The grey haired granny, with a voice so shrill,
Her big long hands, as if they had license to kill!
The little boy, worked hard at the corner shop,
Was sent to the city – Why ? Ah they had a bad crop!
The school bus honked, as we late comers ran,
A loud voice from behind the wheel – the driver, a burly looking man!

Then, years of growing, and the feeling shy,
Pride, anger when there were no answers to the “WHY?”
The first steps out alone into the “big bad world”,
“Don’t do this & don’t do that” – pieces always being told.

One day at a time, my world did grow,
My first meeting with him and the want for more!
Did I like seeing him, did I wait all day?
I remember each line, and all what he had to say!
When we walked the busy streets
Did I hear the honk, or was it my own heart beat?

Time passed on, paths then separated, and we went our ways,
But the feeling ! – Well , lives in my heart to this very day!

Today, I listen hard to the sound of life – the low and the high,
And say to myself, “I don’t want to miss anything as life goes by!”
Each moment, each sound, each smell, each voice,
Tells me now – “in life, we all have a choice”

War on Terror - We will Fight!

( For what happened to us all Indians on 26/11)
Who are you, behind the innocent face?
What creed, what caste, which religion, which race?
Were you born with hatred ? Or, was it chosen by you?
You make a child cry , a mother weep, each day a terror new!
Like us, you too have a home, your kith and kin
Am so sure they would never be a party to your sin!
In the name of God, you shower bullets far and near
You drive in the minds of people disbelief and fear!
What will you say, when you face Him one day ?
What is the reason, to your bullets, the innocent fall prey?
We didn’t know you, neither stole marbles during a game
Then why do you kill in religions name?
Life is too short, make friends not war
Spread love and brotherhood both near and far.
Use your valour – O fearless one!
To serve your country – you don’t need the gun!
Learn to protect the old and hungry , to heal the sick
Today you bring animosity between countries – the mistrust so thick!
We have learnt to tolerate, but we are brave,
We love our country and will stand by each other – when times are grave!
Your spread fear and death to us – but in vain!
We have done it before – we will do it again!
You cannot win, whoever you may be,
Till the last man – each time ; we will protect our country !
India, fear not, dear one, you have many a valiant son
Our fight against terror, they have already begun!
VANDE MATARAM ! JAI HIND !
( I salute each hero; heard and unheard of - who gave their lives to keep us safe.)

Eternal Colors of Life

(Pictures taken at Kanya Kumari - Before and After sunrise)
Each morning as a new day dawns
I look out for the eternal painter
Who has spilt the color across the skies,
Simple strokes , making our lives worthwhile
His laughter of beauty breaks out in the seas,
Each moment triumphs in the green grass and trees.
He loves his work, I am so sure
For not a season goes by without colors so pure!
Have you ever heard the chant of the seas?
The voice of the rivers, felt the dance in the breeze?
Look out for you will find, vibrant colors, the beauty in the sand
An evening sky, a rainbow with the VIBGYOR band!
Who could he be? Many a times I have thought
Where do I find him? Many a lesson he has taught!
A prayer, a thanks , these words are small
Give me the knowledge to understand this all
Day breaks to give us light, live another day
Colors all around, yes , there is the black and the grey!
In the eternal music, I hear his voice,
I hear him say, “Its your canvas and hence it is your choice!”