Pleasures of doing nothing !!!!!

Pleasures of doing nothing after the hustle, bustle and the noise of the day!!!!
As the lazy malingering day swiftly loses itself into the warm embrace of the dusky evening,
amidst the twittering birds and blushing sky on my desolate terrace  ,
                                                                                                     I look on!!!!

As the eyes rivet to the  denizens of the sky, kites, dancing , bathed in Sunlight,
one moment flying away, next - rushing into an embrace, dancing on the strings of love
amidst the molten gold and the sleepy sky on my desolate terrace,
                                                                                                     I look on!!!!


 As the sun spies through the half-shut eyes of the evening upon the kites in the sky-you and I
silhouettes dark one moment,next pirouettes glazed, shadows melting, merging, passions ablaze
amidst fragrant breeze and naughty sky on my desolate terrace,
                                                                                                      I look on!!!!

As the evening returns into the restful embrace of the night under the sieved canopy dark
myriads of blessings descend through the channels of shimmering slivers of lights we call stars,
amidst silvery night and the blissful sky on my desolate terrace,
                                                                                                      I look on!!!!

CLEAVAGE CAVEAT

CLEAVAGE CAVEAT-The recent coverage of cleavage has cleaved the world into two camps-One that believes that the lady in question meant business and hence took the bull by its horns-and the other-that blames it on Business that she stirred a storm in a teacup and deliberately courted controversy for profit. The gutsy lady has gumption enough to stand up for herself and doesn’t need a spokesperson. The lady has kept up the heat and the social media, the Glitterati, the Twiteratti, the Paparazzi and even the Literatti have been sucked into the vortex. While India celebrates with pride the success of it’s MARS mission in distant SPACE, by INDIAN SCIENTISTS, many of whom are WOMEN, nearer home, the lack of respect for women and their objectification MARS the domestic SPACE, and leaves no cause for CELEBRATION. Trail blazing the issue that has now shamed India beyond its shores too …it’s time to take the lady’s word seriously—when she questions the camera being partial to female anatomy and sparing the male. In the wake of our honorable Prime Minister's call for “CLEAN INDIA” the camera should exercise parity in its treatment of men and women. IN OUR COUNTRY WHERE WOMEN ARE STILL FIGHTING FOR THEIR CONTROL OVER THEIR VAGINA, THEY SEEM TO EXERCISE BETTER CONTROL OVER THEIR BLADDER THAN MEN.In my day long visit to Delhi today I came across this poster adorning the street corners very prominently . The candid camera, with its love for human anatomy should train on Men so as to train them not to urinate in public. Men use public spaces as “MUC” “Men’s Urinating Centers” and not a single alley, street or ever market place is spared. Euphemism is deliberately shunned here. With the help of shutterbugs, we will be able to reclaim our alleys, streets corners and by lanes and market places. Then, perhaps our girls , women and children will be able to move about in a healthier environment and without Embarrassment!!

IF YOU PLEASE!

On the journey of this beautiful life,
that's had it's share of strife,
I look back on the road-don't know why?
and ask myself-Who am I?

From my child hood days, I hear an echo,
"A drop of Divinity"-Don't you know?
Mine by birth, yet a bird of passage!
Then Youth sends me this message-
"Though in education  with your siblings you train
Playing, fighting in sunshine and in rain
Friends,hobbies, career, and books
nothing matters as much as looks!"

Defiant! I stood my ground
They said-How rebellious did I sound!
Giggles, laughter, jokes and smoke
kites. bikes,sports and spikes
acting, canvassing ,elections and strikes
 all this and more  I took in my stride
Yet the dilemma ----

On the journey of this beautiful life,
that's had it's share of strife,
I look back on the road-don't know why?
and ask myself-Who am I?

Passionate words whisper in my ear
"A part of Me-Don't you know dear"

Destined to be together-You and I

Like the Earth and it's Moon-have no fear!

Flowers, outings,date and rituals,

Family , friends,gifts and victuals

Travel,home,roles and strolls,

A Blissful Life-Yet I ask for more?

Defiant , I stood My ground

They said-How rebellious did I sound?

Children, home, studies and forms

Exams and interviews became a norm.

Busy days and sleepless nights,

And then a letter ends the strife!

And yet the dilemma---

On the journey of this beautiful life,
that's had it's share of strife,
I look back on the road-don't know why?
and ask myself-Who am I?

But now I know the answer

There was a part of me in all of these,

Yet there is more to me, if you please.

Dross from the Diary of a Dusky Damsel.

Disclaimer:This is purely a work of fiction.Any resemblance to any person dead or alive is purely accidental, though semblance of reality is intentional.

Occurrences that anchor upon coincidence and accident are in fact divine interventions to put us in the orbit of our destiny.
My coming across THE DIARY OF A DUSKY DAMSEL is one such act especially as it happened on the eve of my favorite deity's birthday , who himself is 'shyam varna!'

It is indeed ironical that a literature teacher and a bibliophile can never be united in a person. They are forever divided by the sword of an insufficient salary!After meeting exigencies of the family economy- i often indulge the bibliophile in me by foraging for books at the (second hand book) street market that springs up in Gomti Nagar every Saturday .Last Saturday, while rummaging through a heap of commerce and science books in one such street shop,i came upon a dusty bundle of books.It turned out to be a complete set of Jane Austen's published novels! I immediately emptied my coffers and beat a hasty retreat, lest the vendor changed his mind! As i unfastened the string the books came loose---all six of them! And then tumbled out a seventh one! Though the cover was missing yet i could make out that it was a journal.The pages had yellowed and brittled away at the corners, and the spine was broken.For a moment I thought i had stumbled upon a treasure-What if it was Jane Austen's Journal...who is known to have kept journal of her life!!!! But as I leafed through the first few pages ,I came across a bold signature in black ink that declared with a flourish that did not lack flamboyance " Diary of a Dusky Damsel" It was purely by accident that the Diary of the Dusky Damsel found its way into my house.!!!!

.5th September-----After the rush hours of the festive morning,a lazy afternoon and a gourmet evening I finally planted myself in the study, only to find a signature in black ink , with a lot of flourish and flamboyance ,beckoning me. I remembered the journal signed in black ink ' A Dusky Damsel".I was intrigued by the contradiction between the Flamboyance and Anonymity!!!! Who was she? What kind of person was She? Why Anonymity? My head was full of questions and i couldn't wait anymore for a relaxed and more opportune time to read it.I finally reached out for it and began to read....Copyright@SEEMAEXPRESS

January 28,2015 : I had not advanced beyond the first page when such Severe pang of drowsiness descended upon me, that i fell asleep over the Diary. and that was the last interaction between us!  But some how I feel , as i pass by my reading Desk, the Diary seems to draw me towards it.

LIFE!!!!

LIFE....!!!!

If memories knock too often at your door
or sneak into the room of life in the west
or stealthily pry it open...now and then,,,,
Shut it , latch it ,lock it..reclaim your room,at once

for fetters like they chain you,,,hamper your advance.

If memories knock too often at your door
then open a  window in the east
let the sunshine of  dreams light up the room
and leave no space for gloom
give wings to your dreams,
 in the realm of happiness you shall find yourself bloom!!!!!

Do I have no words?

Speak, why don’t you speak?

Deafening Silence………..

Pounding against the walls of my being,

Thoughts conceived rush
Dying to be delivered
Pain of Parturition, still no birth!

Resounding Silence…….
Words ricochet violently in captivity
Seeking   fumaroles to escape
Seized, captured and imprisoned again
In the vacuity, of my silent being


Do I have no words?
Tranquilized I stand……….
Silence timorous words devour.
Blitzing through my burning veins
Turning vermilion to livid, into the atrium
Fear fire grips, the eruption turns into a fizz

Immured in my silence I stand………..
Eons pass, a quiescent monolith
Placid, pacific waters, equable being
A mere tool have I been
Not to be heard or seen?

Potent words, why my lips I purse?
Why endure silence as a destined Curse?
Silence - be silenced. Let the words grow
From the undulations of my heart let the symphony flow!

Search for Saraswati!!

The turn I took at the corner of my life
to the left of the Garden of Eden
and right into the MANgrove  vile
The Ganga flows,the Yamuna flows

but Saraswati is lost in a trice!

Was Saraswati ever born?
Preterition tells that Feral humanity,
cannibal cabal,despite parturition,
snuffed her in the womb ,
fissured palms,hollow eyes
and parched silent lips!

Where is Saraswati?
Silence shatters the serene earth
cindering silent seven seas,
and,from angry volcano molten lava
spouts as the universe sleeps!

Tossed into the Cosmic empyrean
Riding a dead leaf, the silence
boils the agitated azure skies
breaking into tears the cerulean
as  the humanity looks on!

Search for her, take an untrodden path
Leaving sylvan boulevard,
thoroughfare,expressway and pike
 into the virgin land, difficult terrain
intersections,crossroads,diversions
the mighty skies,or silent seas
where ever she may hide!

 Weary from my cosmic journey home-wards I bound
in vain have i Searched for saraswati!!!
 snivels and sobs though muffled, all around
chained, fettered, cuffed and trammeled
silenced, stifled, effaced,and adumbrated
Buried deep in the recesses of my being..
A timorous voice , finally,articulates a sound
At last Saraswati I have found!
At Last Saraswati I have found!