Monday, August 31, 2015

Poetry Trails: #4 Hard Rock Life

Hi Friends, 

This is the fourth poem in the series- Poetry Trails. This post was initially supposed to be posted on my friend's blog. But due to urgent circumstances, she hasn't been able to do it. From hereon, the Poetry Trails will be published on Indelible Musings. Once my friend is a little less occupied from her paper works and studies, we shall continue altering between her and my blog. Till then, Happy Reading! 


It has all been so hard till now,
Hard as a rock, tough to break,
I try to move away from the hard life
But the life that I thought as hard rock
is actually like a magnetic pull
That's pulling me close to itself,
That doesn't let me realise
my true potential,
Or actually it does, 
But I choose to ignore,
I choose to see that any rock
as big as it may be
as hard as it may be
is susceptible to pressure
So, I just need to push,
Push as high and deep 
as I can,
So that the rock breaks into pieces,
So that those pieces 
I can gather and keep it safe somewhere
for later reminisces,
So that I learn from those tiny little pieces
what I couldn't when they were a part of the rock...

Poetry Trails #1 | #2 | #3

Wednesday, August 26, 2015

Poetry Trails: #3 'Fall' Out of Love

Hi Friends,

This is the third poem in the series- Poetry Trails- that's started by me and another friend. The link to the previous two poems have been given at the end of the post. Hope you like this too. Happy Reading!


We fell out of love 
There was nothing we could do
We tried, we discussed, we met
Yet we couldn't rekindle the romance
What was missing? We did not know 
Was it the love? Or the embrace? 
Was it us sitting side by side or lying next to each other? 
Was it looking eye to eye or holding hands tight? 
Was it what we call ‘few minutes of bliss’ 
or the pursuit for an effortless connect?
There was something missing.

Sometimes it was you, 
And other times, it was me
we were always missing, 
from each other’s lives
and hence we were missing the life 
that delightfully happened around us
I longed for a long night talk, 
You took too long to melt the rock, 
You thought and never expressed
I expressed and never thought. 
We ended up saying, 
that we had options none, 
but we were actually busy mending our individual lives
instead of stitching them into one. 
We fell out of love, 
Was there nothing that we could do?

The next poem in Poetry Trails will be posted on 'Pretty Mornings'

Tuesday, August 25, 2015

#ChennaiThroughMyEyes- Tale of two grandmothers

I grew up in a nuclear family. Though my grandparents and other relatives lived in the same city, we met on festivals or occasions. I always detested the fact that my maternal grandparents would never visit for a long duration until I would threaten them in my childlike tone. A little similar yet different was the situation for my paternal grandmother. She wanted to come and spend time with us but couldn't do so as I had an aunt (differently-abled) who preferred staying at our uncle's home (where she was born) and considered that her home ONLY. I miss my grandparents a lot. While my paternal grandparents and the aunt are in heavenly abode, my maternal grandparents are too old to travel down to Chennai. I wish I can bring them here at least once.

As I see the two grandmothers walking through my the neighbourhood, I am reminded of several such circumstances wherein, the joys of being with grandparents could have been realised by me. I befriended the two grandmother one fine evening when I was talking a walk, with my son in arms, in our otherwise quiet neighbourhood.  They were walking with their 4/5 year old grandson. I was very intrigued by the child as he was too cute and spoke so sweetly. I could imagine how my son would grow up to be soon. What made me connect with the child was that we shared our birthday :)
Pic is for representation purpose only. Source

The grandmothers, like every old lady in the country and in Chennai, asked me if I was working. At that moment, I wasn't so I told them that. They weren't very convinced hence asked me about my previous work experience. The name- Times of India, and Editor were enough to make them exclaim with surprise. I was happy that if there was something other than 'BE or BTech or IT' that could make two ladies in Chennai exclaim with surprise- it was Times of India. :-D I wonder what could be their reaction, had I said - The Hindu.

I see the two grandmothers daily. Early morning, early evening, late evening, or sometimes even late afternoon. They accompany each other if not with the child. I see them and wonder what they would be talking about. From their grandson's future to their daughter's(in-law) or to their son (in-law), or even the daily mundane activities of their life or perhaps the neighbourhood people. Were they always so friendly since the beginning? Did hostility never ever arose between the two grandmothers? Or was it the child that bound them together or got them together? I don't know whether they are widowed, but if they are, was it the fact that they do not have their better halves to look upto anymore, which made them come together to take care of their grandchild?

I happen to meet them quite often in the late evenings. Their usual question is whether I found a caretaker and whether I joined work. When I tell them that I do not have a caretaker but I am working somewhere, their eyes go wide. :-) May be, they weren't expecting a mother to leave her child behind in a creche or alone in the house with some other person. Did they think what a heartless mother I am? I neither know nor would I want to know.

The thing that definitely piques my curiosity is the fact that whether ever in this life would I be able to see my son enjoying with his two grandmothers together, holding their hands, and walking together. I do not see it happening any time soon, but later? I hope it happens. I hope it does.  

Monday, August 24, 2015

Spread your wings

When things look bleak
Take a deep breath
Hold your head high
Aim to see the sky
To see it like never before
To see it like the universe is all about you
See the good, the high,
the bad, the fall
But, burn the fall
and rise from the ashes
Like a phoenix
Aim to make it work
like never before
Imagine your dreams
take a real shape
A shape that you desire
not how others want it to be
Dream, create, produce
Let your thoughts become things...

Friday, August 21, 2015

#ChennaiThroughMyEyes - An early morning from the window of my kitchen

I have always been a morning person. Until I took the journalism path. Getting up early morning had become a passe because late nights had become the norm. Now that am out of that journalism mode, and back somewhere close to getting up early mornings, I cannot stop admiring what an early rise from the bed brings with it for the day.

I would prefer observing the early morning by taking a walk around where I stay. However, I end up marveling at the surroundings from my kitchen window that overlooks a recently constructed and occupied multi-storey apartment, the series of other flats in my own locality, a portion of the main road, and on the other side of the road, the various tech parks.

There is nothing amusing about these non-living things. But there is definitely something fascinating about standing in front of the gas stove, brewing your tea and gazing out of the window. Gazing at the morning walkers, who without fail walk, jog, run everyday, as I still stand there either brewing my tea or washing my son's bottles. There is an uncle, whom I see jog/run every morning and evening. I have hardly not seen him a day unless it has rained and the streets have been flooded. his T-shirt would invariably be full of sweat, and yet he would continue jogging till he completes his task (probably).

There is also the milk man, who has his own set of boys doing the delivery. While one would cycle around with the milk carton kept behind, one hand on the carton and the other on the cycle; there would be another lifting an entire carton all by himself and rushing to the nearest building's lift. They all look almost the same age and build. I wonder why they do not go to school.

I miss the paperwallah back home. The paperwallah, who till a few years ago, would throw papers from the road. I wondered how perfect his aim was. But then soon, our colony had a massive covering of the balconies in almost all the flats. Thus, the paperwallah had more work to do- climb up to all the houses and drop the paper outside the door. Often, I would find the paper kept a few feet away from the door- an evidence that he was probably in hurry that day. In Chennai, I have always received the papers outside the door. In fact, sometimes the paperwallah would even go missing and turn up right before the month end to claim his money. Mind you, he charges for delivery of newspapers as well- again something new for me. And, I see him only on those days when he comes to claim the monthly amount.

As I get on to boil the milk before my son wakes up, I hear cooker whistles. I even know when it is an idli cooker and when it's of sambhar. As I sip through my tea, standing near the window, lost in thoughts, I can smell the sambhar- probably a mother preparing breakfast for home and lunch for her child, who is about to leave for school.

Soon, I see school buses driving into the locality. Children holding their parents' hand, wait in front of a temple right next to the flat where I live. As one by one, the buses/vans arrive, parents bid them good-bye and blow kisses- wishing a good day for them at school. I imagine the day I would be doing the same with my son, when suddenly I hear a cry "Mumma, Mumma." It breaks my thought, and I rush to lift my son from the bed and get on with the chores of the day.

How is an early morning in your city? Do let me know in the comments. :-)

Poetry Trails: #1 Stars and I

Hi Friends,

A dear friend of mine had posted the following lines (in italics) on her Facebook status. She loves to write, and more so when it's poetry. There was something that made me write further down those lines. The result- the following poem as you can see. Thus, we both decided that we would blog together about love and positivity on her blog like this. We are calling it "Poetry Trails" wherein, either of us will begin and continue from there on. Hope all of you will like our small gesture in spreading happiness around. By the way, that dear friend of mine is also a brilliant blogger, and you can read her blogs here- "Pretty Mornings"

I look at the stars, 
and they look back at me. 
We do the same thing every night. 
There is something about being silent,
and looking at each other,
They don’t judge,
I don’t question them for 
being too bright or too dull either, 
The silence between us is comforting
They let me ponder and think over
I am thankful for they make my universe sparkle
Every time I look-up, I smile, 
And they watch-over me, every night, silently.
Stars and I 
We’re the best match.

I too stare at the stars 
not every night
But when I do 
they seem to speak to me
Tell me how things were before
and how things are now
Tell me how I was before
and how I am now
I say that they are wrong, 
but then they remind me
that they had been above me all along....

They know it better, 
they know it all, 
they have seen the rise, and yes, 
they have seen the fall

Yet they wait for me each day
To come and see them shine
As if they want to say
Learn from us...
We shine even in the dark
Let your darkness
be overpowered by the strength 
That you have hidden 
in the garb of a different you..

The next poem in Poetry Trails will be published on Pretty Mornings

Friday, August 7, 2015

15 Takeaways from Paulo Coelho's 'The Devil and Miss Prym'

In this stunning novel, Paulo Coelho, dramatises the struggle within every soul between light and darkness, and its relevance to our everyday struggles. Can we dare to follow our dreams, to have the courage to be different and to master the fear that prevents us from truly living? The Devil and Miss Prym is a story charged with emotion, in which the integrity of being human meets a terrifying test. 

I finished reading this book in a day. The line in the blurb of the book-"Can we dare to follow our dreams, to have the courage to be different and to master the fear that prevents us from truly living?"- caught my attention at the outset. It was more a sense of Deja Vu that made me read the book. I have read Paulo Coelho's 'The Alchemist' long back and hence, getting back to some book reading with him was definitely a good idea.

Some books do not need reviews, instead, you get to learn or takeaway  so many realisations that you tend to relate to them more often than not.

So, this time instead of a review, here is what I leave you guys with.

15 Takeaways from Paulo Coelho's 'The Devil and Miss Prym' (I identified with most of them, and am sure you will too.)

1) ".. Devils come and go all the time without necessarily affecting anything by their presence. They are constantly abroad in the world, some times simply to find out what's going on, at others to put some soul or other to the test. But they are fickle creatures, and there is no logic in their choice of target, being drawn merely by the pleasure of a battle worth fighting.."

2) ".. You shouldn't believe in promises. The world is full of them: promises of riches, of eternal salvation, of infinite love. Some people think they can promise anything, others accept whatever seems to guarantee better days ahead... Those who make promises they don't keep end up powerless and frustrated, and exactly the same fate awaits those who believe those promises.."

3) ".. Good and Evil have the same face. It all depends on when they cross the path of each individual human being.."

4) ".. Playing the part of a charitable soul was only for those who were afraid of taking a stand in life. It is always far easier to have faith in your own goodness than to confront others and fight for your rights. It is always easier to hear an insult and not retaliate than have the courage to fight back against someone stronger than yourself; we can always say we're not hurt by the stones others throw at us, and it's only at night that we can silently grieve over our own cowardice.."

5) "..Whenever you want to achieve something, make sure you keep your eyes open, concentrate and make sure you know exactly what you want. No one can hit their target with eyes closed.."

6) "..There are two kinds of idiots. Those who don't take action because they have received a threat and those who think they are taking action because they have issued a threat.."

7) "..A coward is one who uses others to resolve their own conflicts and is incapable of taking certain decisions.."

8) "..Tragedy always happens and nothing we do cna alter by one jot the evil that awaits us.."

9) "..There is no such thing as Good: virtue is simply one of the many faces of terror. When a man understands that, he will realise that this world is just a little joke played on him by God.."

10) "..Life is a reign of terror.."

11) "..Man needs what's worse in him in order to achieve what's best in him.."

12) "..Evil needs to manifest itself (in a man) to understand the value of good.."

13) "..Silence does not always mean consent. It meant sometimes people were incapable of coming up with an immediate response.."

14) "..People seek suffering in the most joyous of places  because they feel they are unworthy of happiness.."

15) "..Death often frees us from a lot of senseless suffering.."

Happy Reading! :-)

Next in line: The Zahir [Let's see what takeaways can I give you from the book]

Tuesday, August 4, 2015

How They Loved

Holding hands,
Walking side by side,
They strolled on the path
That led nowhere.

Clutching the hands tight,
Shoulders touching,
Her laughter could be heard
Here, there, everywhere.

They walked and talked,
Their bodies swayed
To the rhythm of waves
Oblivious of the worldly space.

She smiled with her head
tilted on his shoulders
He held her firmly
His arms spoke of his support.

Looking into each other's eyes
They embraced in nature's lap
Oblivious of the worldly space
Their love blossomed.

Monday, August 3, 2015

Tete-a-Tete with God

She was lying on the bed with her baby curled beside her. As the baby breastfed, her line of  thoughts waved from one thing to other. "Why are things like this?" "Am I really becoming an atheist?" "Will praying to God really solve my problem?"- her trail of thoughts broke as her child detached himself from her feed and slept off peacefully. She slowly tucked herself out of the bed and walked towards the hall. 

Standing in front of the door that opened to the temple room in her house, she pondered whether to open or not. It had been months since she opened that door, lit a dia or agarbatti. Finally, she opened the door after much hesitation initially. She sat down to clean the floor that was filled with cobwebs and dirt, and the dried leaves of the flower that was last kept for performing the morning rituals.

Having cleaned the floor and the shelf on which were kept frames of not one but several gods and godesses, she sat down with her hands perched together in front of her in a prayer position. After stairing for a while at the frames that stood in front of her, she gathered the courage to utter a word.

"Dear God,  I know it's been ages since I sat like this in front of you. So much so that a friend remarked the other day if I had turned into an atheist. I don't know. I am confused. I was tired, God. I was let down. I didn't know whether the effort to sit in front of you and pray for all the evils to disappear, would really work or no. I was losing the confidence,  not just to sit in front of you but also to seek your help. Yet, today I sit here with hands folded. For me, all of you are one. I don't want to seek your help because that would be too selfish on my part. You are omnipresent,  right? So you can surely see what's been happening in my life off late. You can see that despite my best efforts, things are turning against me and refuse to die down. You also know and can see that I have been making genuine efforts in ensuring things run smooth. Hence, I just want you to guide me. There has to be some place where I am going wrong. There has to be something where my efforts are not in sync with each other. I want you to guide me, God. Please help me. Please."

With that the tears that had been clogged in her eyes for the past few weeks, poured out like a river that overflows out of a strongly built dam. The strong persona that she had built inside herself gave way to the outer atrocities of the world. 

Just after the conversation, she felt something within made her feel better. She couldn't understand whether it was the crying or the conversation with God that helped. All she knew was that her conversation had been heard.