Back to teens!

A few of our high-school class mates got together last month. Chatting over coffe, dancing down the memory lanes…

Chatter and noise

Washing us down,

We had fun and laughter,

Taking us back thru decades;

No barriers, no inhibitions,

Poking fun at each other;

It was wonderful to relive,

The moments of yesteryears!

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Gift for life

I chanced upon this poem in my diary, which I had written quite a while ago when my son was still a kid. And this picture of Yashodha with Krishna is one of my favourites. The feel of the picture matches so well with the mood of the poem. Enjoyed putting it together.

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I love him with all my heart

And of my soul he is a part;

There is nothing that can take us apart,

He is my darling little son;

My heart aches when he cries,

And I forget myself when he plays;

Though I scold him now and then,

To have him around is so much fun.

Sometimes he talks as if he is twenty four

Though he is just four and a few months more;

How he picks up such vocabulary,

Still remains to me a huge mystery;

When he competes he has to win,

To break that rule would be a sin;

For, he would create such a racket

That, to give in is the wisest way out;

At home he desists sweets,

And frowns when I bring home a treat;

But when we go visiting elsewhere,

He grabs them as if never seen;

Sometimes he thinks he is Lord SriRam,

And goes around shooting arrows plenty;

Within minutes he chooses to be Hanuman,

And jumps around the house as if for fee;

To make him sit quietly in a place,

Is as difficult as tying a broken shoe-lace;

Where from he derives all this energy,

May be of interest to the beverage industry;

He is always full of questions and queries,

The patience to answer may be only with fairies;

I have to accept, that many a time, I learn,

From the way he innocently voices his concern;

When he sleeps, the house is so quiet,

And as I hear his tender heart beat

I am left overwhelmed, with the gift

That I have been so endowed with…

Mother.

Mother. That is one relationship that is taken for          granted and is to be cherished every moment.  I sat down and put down my feelings for what my Mom has been to me. I am posting my poem today, so my mother’s day is special for her and not mixed up with the others. Of course, every mother is special and there is no doubt about it!

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For three full Quarters

I lived on your resources

Bathed in the warm comfort of

The most wonderful spa within you;

 

When I opened my eyes

And saw unknown faces around me

Your bosom became my abode

Where I took refuge;

As I grew and made some friends

To you I would always turn

When in fear or in doubt

Or when friends turned into fiends;

You held my hand and made me learn

My alphabets and numbers

Without which I wouldn’t be

What I am today

And able to write this back to you;

You put up with my teenage vibes

And all my indolent ways

Though I would drive you crazy

You wouldn’t much complain;

Now I’m all grown up, a mother myself

And have my own life to take care,

But still you are such a support to me

Without you

I know not how I would survive;

Sometimes I feel guilty, I feel the pain

That its still you, who are holding my hand

Whereas it should actually be me

Holding yours and allowing you some rest;

I shall always be there for you

Whenever you need me;

I LOVE YOU AMMA!!

An exquisite journey…

 

I visited the Tian Tan Buddha on the Lantau island a couple of months back. This is an island close to the Hongkong island and the journey starts from taking a cable car from there. It is one of the most exquisite experience that I have had so far.I have tried to capture my feelings along the journey.

On the banks of the beautiful  HongKong island,

I stand mesmerized at what nature can behold above the sand;

The cable cars soaring high up in the sky

Drag you joyously to a hidden place as you seem to fly;

Seven towers, one by one we cross,

Without a single glitch or an event gross;

When we  finally  land onto to this serene place,

The pristine cool breeze hits you right on the face;

Now, you can see the Buddha in the background,

And the heart misses a beat at this spectacular idol on the mound;

We climb the steps unable to take our eyes off the giant icon,

The sheer size and splendour  seem to enthral us into a mystery charm;

Oh my God, this is divine, this is absolutely great,

The feeling when you reach this spot is an unexplainable treat;

This  statue sitting on a Lotus altar is much bigger than what you can expect,

Formed  with 202 pieces of bronze , weighing 280 tons  and soaring 34 mts high intact;

The statue is made to perfection including the bend of the back,

It is so surprisingly proportionate that you will be taken aback;

The sun forms a halo around this grand relic,

To the soul, it exudes a sense of great joy and frolic;

The face looks so peaceful and the eyes overflowing with love,

To stop staring and look away from  it, one would need a shove;

The elegant hand of the Tian Tan Buddha  blesses the whole world,

It is so gratifying to stand beneath it and listen to the silence profound ;

The journey and  experience overall was an exquisite one,

To this Lantau island and will be etched in the memory for years to come!

My sister…my buddy

When she was born, she was a bundle of joy,

With chubby cheeks and bright black eyes;

She instantly became my favourite toy,

And I always protected her from imaginary foes;

She would flick my things with such tact,

And get reprimanded when caught in the act;

What captivated me a lot and made me grin,

Was the way she still innocently thought it her win;

To the school she would scamper,

And did her math without a whimper;

That, made me feel shy, as I was much older,

And was still getting used to the books and binder;

She would listen to the radio,

And understand the plays on the audio;

She would explain the plot with glee,

All this, when she was just a few months over three!

She would sit up along with me all night,

When I would prepare for my exams;

And keep chatting and yakking all the time,

Till I screamed and landed up in a bully fight!

She would reel out all her answers with care,

But didn’t care a damn what the questions were;

And, if you didn’t ask her in the same sequence

She would laugh saying you were a dunce!

She once jumped off a wall,

And her forehead was cracked and torn;

She felt so proud about the fall,

That she got stitched without a single moan!

It felt great to have a little sister,

Whom you could boss over like a Mister;

She has been my friend, my buddy,

For all these wonderful years steady;

She has gotten over a lot of obstacles,

And made it to where she really deserves;

May God bless my dear little sister,

Whom I love and shall cherish forever!

My treasure chest!

 Everyone likes to have some space and privacy for themselves. Today, children own and take pride in possessing fancy gadgets from psps, video games, ipods, iphones to ipads (uh?) and have their own rooms from the time they are born. Talking about three decades back, I had quite a different and interesting childhood experience.

Rewind…

When I was about 4 years old, we moved to a humble nice town called Trichy ( famous for its Rockfort Temple), in TamilNadu. At that age, all I was interested was food and play. It took me a couple of years before I even took notice of what was inside our house.  I observed that we had two rooms in our house.  One was totally occupied by my parents. The other one was supposed to be used by my sister and myself. I focused. I saw that there was a study table in the corner which my studious elder sister was using. There was a mirror which was hung much above my height and that was supposed to be the “dressing corner” for everyone. There was a cupboard that my Mom had conveniently converted into a pooja place. There was a cloth stand where all our uniforms and my Dad’s shirts hung neatly. Good..so everybody used the room for something and my sister had her nice table to keep and store her things. It struck me then, that people had conveniently forgotten me. Where was my space inside the house?

That evening, when my Dad came back from the Office, I created a racket. I cried and told him that I didn’t have any place in the house where I could sit and do something on my own. He very lovingly offered to make some place in the verandah immediately. Nope!I didn’t agree. We had our shoe rack there and also a lot of kids and aunts would be walking in there frequently. I wouldn’t have ‘privacy’, I felt. The living room and the dining area was ruled out too. I demanded some place in the room where my sister had a place. Yes, it got to be there I fretted. Dad felt that I was too small for another Study table and there was no space too. I had a small desk to do my homework anyways.

My Mom then came with a brilliant idea. She showed me a small brown suitcase and said that it was all mine and I could keep whatever I wanted inside that and spend as much time with it. It fitted very well below my sister’s table. So they didn’t have to worry about it coming in the way of everyone. She said that I could lock it and keep it if I wanted. Since I was not sure what exactly I needed, I got elated and accepted the idea immediately. When scrutinized carefully, I noticed it had a broken latch and was torn slightly in a couple of places. But the inside was good and so I didn’t complain. I had something which was only mine and I could do whatever I wanted with it! :-D.That was more important.

That was the day when I started to experience the delight of having some private space. I started filling the case with a lot of things. My collection of chocolate wrappers, story books, small prizes that I won at school, gifts and cards from my friends, my scrapbook, my stamp collection, matchbox wrappers, colour pencils, pebbles , bangle pieces etc. I would arrange and rearrange them time and again. I would count the pebbles and re-stack the books. I would keep my little trinkets inside and look at them fondly everytime. I would hide some of my crazy and secret collections of insects and butterflies. I would feel like a queen sitting in front of her treasure chest and would feel good to take important decisions on what I had to keep and what I had to trash. I decorated the suitcase with coloured ribbons and some water colour paintings. Many a time, my sister would be sitting on the chair and doing her work, while I would hide under the table with my pretty box and spend hours over it. I loved that time with myself.

Me and this lovable box were inseparable and I grew very fond of it. It became my identity. In 1978 we had heavy floods in Trichy when one of the nearby dams gave away during the monsoon. My father rushed all of us to safety and we could take only all the important stuff in the house. Alas, my favourite chest was forgotten in the melee. We were taken to a safe place and we didn’t return till about 10 days later. My Dad had got the house cleaned up of all the debris and had made arrangements to dry up the house.  I rushed to the room. I could see only the table there and no sign of my precious little treasure box. The water had ruined it and hence had to be thrown away. I started crying. My Dad hugged me and promised to get me a big table with a cupboard , just like my sister’s. Well, it did sound like a plan and I was smiling already.

But I still cherish those private moments I had with my beautifully decorated treasure chest and do remember every detail of it vividly, as I had last arranged it.