Monday 29 July 2013

One

One blow of breath,
sigh ?
Daresay, I.

One strand of thought,
sublime?
Daresay, mine.

One swift blow:
Owl and the rat
Rat and the cat.

One rapid plunge:
hook and the fish
dreams and the wish.

Careless, agonizingly
unheard: silent sobs
innocence does rob.

Inherent flaws :
patches on flowery walls
one by one, crumble and falls.

Sorry, am I :
yes, aye aye!
Sorry i am.

Saturday 27 July 2013

Random Scribbbbbles :: Eyes

His keen eyes were darting from one stall to the other.
15 ke half kilo” (15 for half kilo)
“10 ka ek pau” (10 for a quarter kilo)
Midst all the hue and cry, were hundreds of people buying food for their families. Haggling prices and selecting the best possible product. Some went directly to patronized stalls and got their weekly dose of vegetables and fruits. Some, more adventurous, ventured around in the hope of striking a better deal somewhere and maximizing whatever they got for their money. More often than not, these ended up not only spending more of their time, effort and patience but also ended up getting less of their money’s worth.

He had patronized stalls, but he was clever. He had fixed different shops for different purposes. He was aware that bending too much towards one particular person or stall would make him over dependent and vulnerable to manipulation by that stall owner. These were some of the lessons of life he applied in something as seemingly insignificant as shopping for vegetables.

As he went around he thought about the entire structure of the society that he lived in. The fact that all the vegetables were produced at one place and then brought by transport to mandis, where they were sold at a wholesale price in bulk to smaller vendors, who would then bring these vegetables from door to door for the consumers to buy. The farmer who put in his hard work to produce the vegetables and fruits got paid for their hard work, the people who brought them from the farmer and made it available to a much larger consumer base got paid for the effort they put in arranging for the transportation, the person driving the trucks got paid for ensuring a safe and timely delivery of the product to the market, the local vendors got paid for the effort they put in getting the products from the mandis at a wholesale rate, the end consumers got paid in terms of the energy they gathered from eating this food which in term helped them to go about their routine activities.

Contrast this to something as simple as everyone having a farm in their backyard, growing their own fruits and vegetables, tending to them and then using them to feed themselves.
But then that would mean so many people getting unemployed
….and so his thoughts trailed and faded.


Thursday 25 July 2013

Happy birthday

My heart dances, often, calms otherwise
My weight nulls, often, floats otherwise
My mind eases, often, melts otherwise
I live, often, love otherwise.

The pearls in you, unlike pretty oysters
shines through your skin
The shimmer of your love:
touches me, brings a smile,warm.

Blessed am I, my soul :
that walks besides of you.
Blessed are my eyes that rest on you
my arms that draw you close:

my ears that that echo your words,
your thoughts:
and most of all:
blessed is my heart, touched by your love.

Sunday 21 July 2013

Even you were ones a baby

The room was thick with the smell of fever. Smoke rose, as did the temperature. Sweat, fighting to gain the odor presence. Such was the air which she breathed for the first time. Her welcome into the world was not garlands of flowers, but beads of sickly smelling feverish sweat. Her farewell ? Was it more plush ? Who are we to say ?

When a stillborn is born, the mother knows something is amiss. But I guess it does not happen the other way round. Hence the conclusion, that she was crying out of hunger rather than out of grief.

There was no one nearby who was crying. Except her of-course. Grief, of the continuous and harsh kind, usually rends a human into stone. How then, did she learn how to cry ? Was it an instinctive reaction to the death of the one who just gave her life ? Was it a continuation of emotion ? That the mother and her body was already crying in pain, extrapolated to the baby born out of her, inheriting the same frame of mind ?

Even you were ones a baby.  

Life Through A Smoke Screen

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