Wrinkled by the precarious times, as I lay burdened by my inhibitions, I heard a sudden knock. It was my soul seeking to break free. My life was at an inflection point - a career break to deal with that ran too long, a sick child and the pandemic snatching away loved ones. Yet I wanted to do something worthwhile and not just while away my life. I thought to myself, did I even have the right to waste the most precious gift from my parents. That was the epiphany that altered my life forever. Fifteen years after I had passed out of campus, I appeared for and cracked one of the toughest exams in India and started my journey of a doctoral degree with the dream of altering the world. Now I’m enjoying the nuances of balancing rigour and relevance of a research oriented curriculum. If not studying, I’m usually spending quality time revelling in my kids' and parents’ company while enjoying the wintery afternoon sun amidst jaggery, oranges and sesame seed sweets. My evenings are laced with coffee, fruit cakes and books. Amidst the fluidic pace with which life is happening, I’m living it, in reality and weaving magical memories out of it.
Thursday, December 31, 2020
Saturday, February 22, 2020
My Silhouette
"When I remain just as a silhouette of the past,
Shed no tears, do not grieve;
If you look for me intently,
I'll still be there, if only you believe.
Look for me in the fluttering pages
of the book of poems i wrote,
Trace your fingers through those lines
My thought, those lines emote...
Look for me in the fragrant pages
of the books that adorn my shelf,
You'll know what my life was like;
Those stories made me myself.
Look intently at the half-filled inkpot
That penned my plaudits and strictures
The deep blue of the bottled up emotion...
My ink stained finger it pictures!
See the shades that once coloured my canvas
You'll find my moods in the variation of the hue
Those strokes of pencil, the stained palette
Will speak of the same me you once knew
Run your finger through the strings
of the instrument that I once played
The chords are entwined with the song
of my entangled thoughts that strayed
The warm summers foreshadowing autumns
The frozen winters and the lashing rain
All of them would tell you my story
of how I braved every storm and smiled in pain
The mountains will echo my feelings to you
The bark of trees would show you my carved heart
You'll find my remnants in the crashing waves
The stars will remind you, we've never been apart."
Shed no tears, do not grieve;
If you look for me intently,
I'll still be there, if only you believe.
Look for me in the fluttering pages
of the book of poems i wrote,
Trace your fingers through those lines
My thought, those lines emote...
Look for me in the fragrant pages
of the books that adorn my shelf,
You'll know what my life was like;
Those stories made me myself.
Look intently at the half-filled inkpot
That penned my plaudits and strictures
The deep blue of the bottled up emotion...
My ink stained finger it pictures!
See the shades that once coloured my canvas
You'll find my moods in the variation of the hue
Those strokes of pencil, the stained palette
Will speak of the same me you once knew
Run your finger through the strings
of the instrument that I once played
The chords are entwined with the song
of my entangled thoughts that strayed
The warm summers foreshadowing autumns
The frozen winters and the lashing rain
All of them would tell you my story
of how I braved every storm and smiled in pain
The mountains will echo my feelings to you
The bark of trees would show you my carved heart
You'll find my remnants in the crashing waves
The stars will remind you, we've never been apart."
New Year's Eve
"Chilly winter night fades into oblivion
Every merry making - an unwanted alluvion
True feelings take a sudden dip
A wry smile hangs on every lip
People hardly notice, nobody cares!
Except for the scarred soul that the heart bares.
Clinking glasses, a few handshakes,
Tapping stilettos - conversation the heart makes
With no one to watch over, time ticks by,
And thus they bid the year goodbye
Stumbling, fumbling they make for home
Some stay back on the streets they roam.
Early next morning they wake up in bed
To see the sun paint the sky a warm glowing red
The brand new year, with care they weave
To be enjoyed until another new year's eve..."
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