Freedom

I trace the patterns
of the agarbathi smoke.
Its fragrance mingles
with that of the
garland around his frame.

I sit there,
while he lies in front of me.
Both still,
covered in white
from head to toe.

Cold and stiff,
even in death he remains.
That frightening frown
between his brows,
frozen now forever.

Women come in,
embrace me and wail.
(As thought they were the bereaved ones!)

My glass bangles are smashed,
the vermilion on my forehead
wiped off,
by each of them,
Again and again and again.

And everytime,
The broken clinking glass pieces,
bring to my ears soothing harmony.
And my white saree,
Dares to unleash its trapped spectral hues.

For after forty long years,
I am alive and free.

Talaaq

Our union, they said,
Was made in heaven.
Yet, three quick words
And we were strangers,
Again.

Decisive Drift

So we met
At an unexpected moment
With silence in between.

An odd blink of recognition
A hesitant step

And you pass by…

Strangers resolving confusion.

Dewy tear, wistful memory and disgraceful fall

You’re the dewy tear on a rosy cheek
You’re the blurred image in a tormenting dream
You’re the lingering grief behind my smile
You’re the inherent agony in a muted scream.

You’re the wistful memory left by an evanescent moment,
You’re the bad poem written in a crumpled paper ball
You’re the ray of light shrouded by wisps of cloud
You’re the sweet reason behind my disgraceful fall.

Just vanish into oblivion ’coz
You’re the one I hate to love
You’re the one I hate to think about
You’re the one I keep thinking about.

The above poem was written in Lemn Sissay’s spoken word workshop. It follows the rhyme sequence abcb. I tried to keep to it but strayed away from a set rhythm. The poem, as he said, was to be written keeping in mind the one person we immensely loved. I didn’t do that… The title, however, is in accordance to what he asked us to do, which was simply to pick out three phrases from the poem.

My take on it: It’s a hideous poem composed in a beautiful workshop.

Mirror mirror, on the wall….

A silver edged, oval mirror stares me in the face. It too has a face which seems very familiar to me. I gape at that face because I see that which I cannot see anywhere. I see a searching loneliness, an all-consuming fire. I see all that is considered to be bad by society. I see a picture of flaring jealousy and disparaging envy. I see that which I hate to see. I see that which I fear to see because I see the truth. I see me.

(GE classes help! The above piece was what I penned down when I was irritated into thinking about what a mirror reflects when I look into it…)

Deceiving Dreams

`Tis a dazzling Star, leading me,
Deep into a lacuna of fantasy,
Blinding the sight, with a divine light,
Promising a surreal reality.

A soft sound pulls me back
“Whispers of reason?” I ask.
Blocking the way, and the stellar ray,
Leaving me confounded in my track.

“O Star, where do you take me?
What is this strange territory?
A haven of dreams, where happiness beams?
A wonderland sans animosity?”

The radiant Star doesn’t speak a word,
It only smiles, but I have heard,
Its euphonious melody, in delightful harmony,
Drawing me in to its idyllic world.

Where the golden sand rests beneath my feet
And pristine waters rush in with speed.
Where nature’s Opulence, displays her magnificence
And Paradise opens her arms wide to greet!

With gratitude, I gaze at the Star,
Its brilliance focused on someone afar
I run towards the solitary figure
And just when I reach out to touch him
The Star vanishes, and dawn breaks….

THE FINAL POEM FOR THE COLLEGE PLAY (THE BEST POEM)!!

(‘What do women want?’ they ask. Its quite simple. Really.)

One day he’s gonna cook me a meal
A big meal
A big monster of a meal
With perfectly roasted crispy potatoes
And succulent garden-grown baby carrots
Nesting like sneaky little surprises
Beneath some richly flavoured sauce

One day he’s gonna cook me a meal
And for once his timing will be perfect

He will go to all that trouble
Of scraping and slicing and peeling and dicing
Of reaching boiling point
And taking care not to burn
And taking time over all those little details
And stirring and blending and caring and worrying
Breaking down over the crème caramel
But not wanting any help or instructions
And never, no never
Giving up and making pilchard sandwiches
With stale bread

He will arrange everything
Like an exuberant Egon Ronay
On a willow-pattern dinner plate
Swirling with dancing tongues of curling steam
And offer it to me like some long lost treasure

And I am not going to say thank you
I am not going to say aren’t you having some
I will eat it, insatiable
Sucking it up like an empty whale
My head stuck right in there
Cramming my mouth with a vegetable paradise
Grunting over the creamy horseradish
Gobbling like some hysterical piglet
Slopping it everywhere
My face mottled with dark ripples of gravy
Which run unstoppable down my chin
My neck my breasts
And congeal
In a brown solid stain
Right where my heart is
One day he’s gonna cook me a meal
And I’m gonna run my hands through it
Feel the quelch of steaming mash
Squeeze those pretty little peas till they pop
Cram my ears full of pulpy swede
Burrow into the thick nest of buttered cabbage
Gorge and wallow and swim around
In the sweet-smelling juices
Till the cows come home
Till I burst with greed
Till I can’t breathe any more

I’ll probably die
But it’ll be worth it
Cos hell
I’ve been waiting for this meal
A long time.

I loved this poem…I don’t know who the poetess is but she’s filled in so much passion...so much desire and all the pent up anger! Ah… the agony of the woman in the kitchen… the anguish of the suppressed woman… the desire of the perpetual giver....

Omniscient Lie

Inching towards the ultimate black hole,
Tempting doom summons my battered soul.
Seeking an escape, I look ’round for thee,
Alas! Conspicuous silence alone greets me.

Vanquished at thy feet I lie,
Stifling life piercing inside.
Muted cry of anguish scorned!
Art thou Satan in the guise of God?

Master of the divine sanctuary,
Where wert thou when I needed thee?
Hallowed keeper of the multitude’s faith,
Did thou flee, when I came in thy quest?

O powerful Creator, art thou a lie?
O merciful Saviour, art thou just a lie

those eyes...

His eyes- it seemed like they were searching my soul. It seemed like they could see through me. It seemed like they wanted to see through me. I cringed. I wanted to avert his insistent gaze. I didn't want to appear ugly. i knew that if he persisted , he'd see the flaws. I wanted to hide. But, i remained. He had a beautiful set of eyes. They seemed so innocent and so inquisitive. His hair fell in waves. He didn't get dimples but his lips curled into a lovely sight whenever he smiled. I had decided that i will not let myself lose control. But, i did. The past still haunts. The present is so bewitching. I wanted to be alone so that i could keep listening to him. He spoke softly, very softly. Behind this calm exterior, he swore he was a fighter. Screaming silence... soothing darkness... to the world, i am lost... i am lost!

Smile

A tender moment of my life,
A tragedy to withstand,
The wonderful time I had being a great man’s wife,
Was like a fantasy in “wonderland”.

All I can do is remember,
The sweet words he used to console me with.
The beautiful days of September.
The outstanding wonder of nature now seems,
All like myth.

The times we shared together,
Of sorrows and of joy.
The soft calm weather that seems
To persevere the memories, with
That most precious boy!

The criticism I got, when I was wrong,
The praise I received, when to me, it did belong,
Now the gift is gone forever,
Never to return, NEVER.
His mark he has left behind, mild
And lovely, a beautiful child.
Whose expressions make a mother’s heart weep
When slowly from behind she would creep.

Wiping my tears and consoling me,
“He’ll come back” she’d assure me.
Cheering me with a kiss on the head,
She’d pull my hand and tell me to go to bed.

With confidence that he’ll be back,
My head on the pillow lies,
With my daughter beside with eager eyes
Waiting for me to smile.

All I can give her is my love,
And fill the loneliness of her dead father.
The strength to withstand the tragedy
And not express my sorrow but rather, SMILE.

A smile which would help me forget
All the bad times.
Help me carry on with life, and
Support the greatest treasure of mine.

This piece was written by Nishi (Nishita) when she was in standard IX. It won the third prize at the poetry writing competition at Cascades. Nishi, I loved this poem. It shows such maturity, considering you were only in std. IX when you composed it. I just felt this has to be read and felt by everyone. So, here it is… Smile!

my first poem

Where have you gone?

Conflicting emotions
Fears and apprehensions
The soul cries out
And gropes for light.
The mist refuses to rise.
Chaos abounds,
Lonely and desperate,
I long to confide.
No ray of hope,
Darkness surrounds.
Where have you gone?
Oh! Where have you gone?

Encumbered heart,
Crimson, wet eyes,
Anxieties escalate,
Smiles fade,
Chasing my dreams,
I am lost.
Horizon awaits,
Enigmatic whispers
Beckon my name,
Darkness surrounds.
Where have you gone?
Oh! Where have you gone?

A kaleidoscope of memories,
I reach out to touch,
But, they fly by
Illusions on golden wings.
Nostalgia grows,
Suffocating me
Agony declines to abate,
Darkness surrounds.
Where have you gone?
Oh! Where have you gone?

Love craves,
Passionate desires,
Feeble fantasies,
Virtual realities,
You elude me.
My beacon dims,
Darkness surrounds.
Where have you gone?
Oh! Where have you gone?

hmmm.... poor effort at composing a few lines

Silent tears born

Of unrequited love.

Nurtured dreams torn

Wounded pride begotten.

A smiling mask

Concealing grief,

Biting agony and

Insult, unbearably brief.

Consequences,

Delightfully morbid,

Innocent pretensions

Vanishing,

Wisdom now acquired.

Beautiful moments burnt,

An illegitimate past stolen,

Nonchalant present bequeathed

A bleak future woven.

Trust’s cold blooded death,

Illusive mirage-her faith.

Feigned camaraderie sported,

Convincing deceiver rewarded.