About poetry and other things


This year started on a good note as far as my creative writing goes. August has passed and yet the summer continues to rustle under the clear blue sky. I read somewhere that September is a month of huge energetic shifts in our consciousness.  I don’t know of the global spiritual awakenings but I am able to see the changes in me.

Sometimes one needs to detach oneself to grow. One can either choose to dwell in the hurt or look beyond that and remember the good things. I have chosen to do the latter. We often give a lot of love to others and forget to do the same for ourselves. So, I have decided to change that. A little selfishness in loving oneself doesn’t harm.

September began with a makeover. A no fuss hair cut and an exercise regimen to begin with. I want to travel too. Solo, if possible. I am becoming weary of company.

I often ask myself what am I grieving about? Something that wasn’t mine in the first place? So what if he left without a word, broke me into pieces, ruined me again?  What did I lose except the mirage that was ‘Him’.

Nothing

I want to close all wounds. Seal them with forgiveness.

If a conversation does not go beyond monosyllables , it isn’t worth having. I lost a lot of self-love and self-esteem in begging and pleading for you to stay, to not walk away from me.

I often wanted to ask,

What was I to you,

for that brief time,

that we shared

in an autumn

long gone?

Breakup usually taints all the good things and then your brain is a mess. Mine was.

This needed serious introspection. Love is not love if it hurts. I needed to clear my head of all the illusions, all the dreams that would never ever get realized. So, I took a journey into my wounds, the deepest secrets, the darkest places in my mind/heart and brought things to a closure within me.  I have decided not let the things, that do not belong to me, take control over me.

I am writing more to free myself from the loops of old stories. In this process I am finding parts of me that I once thought to be unlovable. Pain often brings deeper gifts than one can imagine. It makes you more vulnerable and expands access to your creative and personal genius. The closure we seek from others should come from within. No on can close your wounds the way you can and once that happens, new stories begin to sprout.

When Amrita Paul of SheThePeople TV asked me for an interview, I agreed instantly. A new window was opening and I was grateful.

Here is an excerpt :

1. Tell us a little bit about your background. When did you start writing poetry?

I was brought up in a family of liberal educationists. I spent a major part of my life as a homemaker but now my sons are grown up and I am working as a freelance content writer and marketing communication specialist. I must have been in my teens when I started penning down short poems.  I actually began to learn the art of writing good poetry some five – six years ago… Writing poetry helped me change the old order. I find it more intimate and tender to express in the form of a poem. When I read a good poem by someone I feel it in my pulse. I see my face in their experience and that is why I write. To feel this connect is very important. Poetry flushes out a feeling, an emotion, a thought, a question that you never knew  lay buried inside you.  A little arrangement and rearrangement of words opens up a lot of possibilities.Life is a great teacher and I have a student heart. My life is too chaotic and in poetry, you can say a lot in a few lines, you can play around with words and have a finished piece in a short time. That’s what I love about poems and that’s the reason I write them.

You can read the full interview HERE

Another opportunity came when Dr. AmpatKoshi suggested I contact poet-writer Lopa Banerjee of Learning and Creativity – Silhouette Magazine to get a chance to be published there. I sent two poems and Lopa, very graciously accepted my submissions.

Here is the first one – At The Banks Of The River Ganges

The other poem will appear sometime this month.

I also attended the book launch of ‘ The Girl Who Loved A Pirate’ by Kulpreet Yadav, at the Oxford Book Store, Delhi.

The book is one of a kind crime fiction. India’s first spy thriller based on marine piracy and hijacking. It was great to meet old and new friends who were just names on Facebook till now. The interactive session between the panelists, the author and the audience was great fun.

Fast paced and intriguing, the book is set in the Arabian sea, Goa and the Malacca Strait.

As usual, after the launch I and kid1 went for a sumptuous dinner.  Simple pleasures of life.

I have blogged with wordpress for almost six years now. It feels good to see readers connecting with what I write. Recently I noticed that my blog has crossed the elusive 2,000 followers mark and the blog hits have gone up to 588,600+ .. I would like to thank everyone who visits and spends some time reading what i have to say. It is because of you I write among other things. All those who connect via comments, thank you for doing so. Your suggestions and appreciation helps me to improve.

My GooglePageRank remains constant at number 2.

Onward we go!

There is a great power in knowing that you are more than this one circumstance. That you can move beyond the pain, real or imagined.

I thank everyone who has knowingly or unknowingly helped me in my healing.

Ten On Tuesday


1. I don’t look fat but I have gained weight. I have stuffed myself with desserts lately. I think it is ‘stress eating’ or ’emotional eating’ though I do have a sweet tooth. I am basically eating my feelings. The result is the weight gain and still the lack of energy or for that matter inspiration. I am not bingeing but I am just eating too much sweet. Food as a form of relief. Relief from stress, insecurity, loneliness, hurt, anxiousness. I am aware and I am trying to get past it. Time isn’t a good healer and I am just too emotionally distraught now. Food is a passion for me and I do not wish it to become a curse. So ‘ban’ is not what I aiming at but control. Sleep deprivation is another thing that may be adding ounces and inches to my body. Need to cure that and get into shape. Love myself before others.

2. The Urs Mubarak of Hazrat Amir Khusro has begun and this time too I am unable to go to the dargah. It is not very far from where I live but there is no calling I guess. It is something I need to do. I am not a religious person but there is a mystic pull that keeps me tied to this place. I often sit and focus on the energy I get from there. Sending all the vibrations to the universe to make it happen.  Asking for healing, guidance and peace.

3. This year has not been good at some levels which have changed the entire course of my life once again. Uncertainty looms large and I need to take some decisions. Asking universal help to bring things to closure and for new beginnings.

4.‘I fell in love, and with all the recklessness of love, I had no idea what I was doing until it was far too late to get out…’ – Jeanette Winterson

5. I am not averse to being alone. It is the best thing to happen if you can befriend your aloneness. It is the loneliness that seeps in the hollow of your bones and nibbles them from inside out.  There are worse things than being alone and most often when you do realize that it’s too late and there is nothing worse than too late. Indifference is the opposite of love, not hate. Right now, dealing with reality is tough but not impossible.

6. Sometimes one knows one’s place, outside the periphery. I have said this from the start, felt it from the start. I continuously felt something shifting from your side, I wasnt a priority or maybe I never felt like I was. I needed you to hold me while I was drowning in my fears. really, just that. It terribly frightened me when you shut me out while I tried to reach out to you against all odds. I wanted a little respect, some regard for my feelings, loyalty, a little importance in your long list of priorities… I simply needed to feel that in many hours and miles that indefinitely sat between us, Was I asking for a lot? I hopelessly waited for you to call me, stop , at least talk it out but you just let me slip away like sand from fist. I am trying to get over it. There is so much to get over with.

7. Hills are calling. I am thinking of settling down somewhere in hills. No, it is nothing to do with ‘how bad the word is’ , it is because I love mountains. I love the quiet, it has that formidable quality to counter the deafening stillness inside me. I was born in hill and a part of me always wanders in those paths moist with the sweetness of pines, it wanders with the clouds, over the valleys and little hamlets with red slate roofs. I am saving money to make that one way trip to some place where no one knows me. Start afresh and do what pleases me. Even if it is just gazing at the flight of the eagle.

8. I am reading a lot of zen these days. There is something calming in those pages. I am also learning to paint again. Dipping my fingers in real colors. I did two acrylic on canvas but I think I will buy a big sketch book, crayons and color pencils. Something I carry with me wherever I go. I need to hold the pencils again. The tips of my fingers are becoming numb with too much typing. I want to feel the pulse of the words I write and it’s not possible with the impersonal letters popping up with the click clack of the keys.  Things need to get real.

9. It is also time to bring closure to the novelette I began many moons ago. It has been beta read and coming back with comments. I plan to work on it with utmost dedication and bring it out. A lot of time, effort and commitment has gone into it. Same with the short fiction I have to edit. Time to make it all final and add some more to have a presentable book ready. Universe has been benevolent as far as my writing is concerned and many good things have come my way, I just need to go with the flow and discipline myself. i thing I have struggled with since long.

10. Talking about writing i am reading and experimenting with new forms of poetry and fiction. I twill be shared later sometime 🙂 Till then life will be all about keeping the faith that good things will happen. All that is lost will come around. If it is really meant to be.

Scratchings – New Poems


image copyright- tikuli

sky, the colour of solitude,
earth, its shadow,
poet, a wabi-sabi.

sitting on the slender wedge
of the moment, all day, the poet
devolves towards or evolves from
nothingness

back and forth, back and forth,
sways the old door dying on its hinges,
the lullaby comforts the baby

cryptic, edgy, scrawls crawl across the wall,
each line has a different tale to tell,
or offers a different puzzle needing to be solved,
inebriated words written by groping fingers,
searching for the light switch

Still heart
Empty nest
Bare branch
In the quiet,
the things I forgot
to say, rustle in the
wind.

I buried the me that loved you

and from it many universes

branched towards infinity,

revealing themselves from beyond

the veil of the visible universe,

echoing with the songs of nothingness

I became a star tree,

my  leaves glowing with celestial crimson,

each blossom filled with scents of you,

Ten On Tuesday


Today I am not really in a mood to write. This year has been a mixed bag of good and bad. In equal measures. “Well, Something’s lost but something’s gained in living everyday.” Remember the beautiful song by Joni Mitchell?

Today I have decided to post ten random things from the various drafts lying in a folder left orphaned since one day everything changed. Lines that could have become poems, stories but now they just lie abandoned, waiting. Just as I am.  The opposite of love is not hate, it is the abject indifference. People may say, “this too shall pass” but it doesn’t, it seeps in the hollow of your bones. Half of July has passed and I am tired of being brave. I can’t go on pretending. Right now dealing with reality is impossible so don’t mind if my conversations seem wounded in love.

1. “I am getting acquainted with your absence. I write as much as I can to write you out of my system but it doesn’t happen. the sorrow doesn’t turn into poems. The phone remains silent as the mornings turns to afternoons, which in turn fall into dark and then the dark too goes quiet, just like you. I stare into nothingness, even the breathing becomes inaudible as I grieve about the parts of me you buried while they were still pulsating with life.”

2. “Even though it hurts, I will stay open and vulnerable. The beauty of the human life lies in its fragility and I wont give it up or give it away.It is the real strength and power of being human, to accept your brokenness, to put it all back together. To fill the cracks with gold of love and move on. Cracks are the wounds indicating you have suffered and have overcome that suffering. Courageous risks are life-giving and the rewards are deep.”

3.

“I bring to you my poems

a clumsy bouquet of words

unbefitting for your tastefully done life

wildflowers, a wealth of perfume…..”

4. “Delhi summer drips in mangoes. The summer seasons opens officially with mango blossoms and the entire two months are ruled by the king of fruits, canopies of gulmohar carried forward from the spring into summer alive with cuckoo birds. Watermelons swollen with the red summer heat inside them. Flamboyant Bougainvillea exploding on walls in vibrant colors. Blinding sun, dust winds, road rage, power cuts, melting asphalt, chuski licking, water trolleys, sweat and grime, white sky and chilled lemonades signifies the summer in Delhi. City is a color palette with the golden amaltas, gulmohar, tesu, kanak champa, silk cotton, coral tree, all in full bloom and the neem trees filled with tiny starry flowers. Who can’t fall in love with the lilac spread of kachnar and the beautiful Jacaranda. In me, the summer drips with the memories of you that evoke painful secrets. It is a funeral without a shroud.

5. The horizon makes her lonelier than she is as  she stands looking down at an unspoiled landscape of sand. Now a tree, she once was a woman, a keeper of the words,  a story-teller, a mystery from time immemorial.

6. Age is catching up with the Neem trees (Indian Lilac) in central Delhi (This one is part of the canopy of lush green trees that line up both sides of the Aurangzeb road). It is a beautiful experience to drive down the roads, esp when the vehicular traffic is least, with so much green surrounding you. There was a time I would walk down these roads and simply gaze at the spread of many shades of green above me. One could hear so many bird calls in those days. Each season brings its own dramatic change to the landscape. Each one more beautiful than the other. For once one forgets all the chaos that surround us.

These trees are a legacy of the colonial raj. Ten thousand trees and one hundred and thirteen km of hedges were laid out by an expert from Kew Garden London, with each major avenue having one species. Tamarinds on Akbar Road, Arjuna trees on Janpath, pipuls on mandir marg, and Neems on Aurangzeb road.

We stopped under the shade of this tree waiting for the signal to turn green. In the midst of the thick foliage, high up on a branch was nest, now empty. One can not see it in the photograph though. Life is all about holding on and letting go. Dont know why but a line from Blake’s poem instantly came to my mind.

“The bird a nest, the spider a web, man friendship.”

7. “Whatever you give comes back to you.
I gave myself. Love is a boomerang I never learned how to throw correctly.”

8. Not even for a moment forget that I am a river.
No matter what you put in my way,
i will still find a way to break free.
Don’t assume that I will be on this narrow road forever,
your perception of my exterior
may not match what lies beneath my surface,
I am holding a fiction inside me
if you think you know me, think again
what is visible is camouflaged
what is hidden is true
we are kind of schizoid, aren’t we?
containing multitudes within.

9.

each of us

for all our lives

live

so bitterly

misunderstood

10. I carry a raven in my chest. You, a songbird. Isn’t it clear who should fear the cage?