Sunday, December 13, 2015

A Strange Tale

I don’t know when,
I don’t know how,
It’s a strange tale,
A curious case.
The story of my life.
The story of my love.

I was a reticent child,
Obedient and quiet,
In kindergarten I played,
With snakes on my head,
An unforgettable memory,
Of innocence and naivety.

In school I read, and read galore,
Stories of strife and love reunited.
Inspired I wrote tirelessly,
From the heart, from the mind.
And suddenly was told,
“One day, you will be a writer.”

I laughed it off,
For then I thought,
No writers earn, but just grow old.
Yet deep in my heart,
It was a dream,
A dream too bold.

I studied longer,
I worked harder,
All the while nurturing my dream.
Youth receded,
Independence beckoned,
Living on my own term.

Travelling wide
Working under pressure,
I learnt from my mistakes,
Suppressing my pride.
Time and again, life’s challenges
Pushed to excel, to make my mark.

As the years rolled,
Everyone pressed,
To take the next step,
To find a home with someone else.
“You are getting old,” they said.
“You will be left a lonely waif.”

My mind reeled,
Thoughts scattered,
Confusion ruled,
My heart refused.
The world mocked,
Time clocked.

I don’t know when,
I don’t know how,
It’s a strange twist,
A hard blow,
To mistaken beliefs,
To the inner foe.

A friend called,
A discussion ensued,
An exchange of emails,
An understanding of the mundane.
Calls followed calls,                        
The connection grew.

It was a Sunday,
When the sun shone bright.
He came to town,
To give me a sight,
Of his real self,
And his bald might.

A short walk on the beach,
Stories unfold,
A sumptuous lunch,
And a merry tea with family.
In the melee, he held my gaze,
And the chains fell in place.

We met once, we met twice,
We met a third time,
And we skyped.
Chains of friendship,
Chains of love,
Built not in time, but on trust.

He held my hand and asked,
“Will you marry me?”
I said, “I need more time.”
It was a lie, it was a sham.
But I needed to think,
For one last time.

He was patient,
He was kind,
He asked again,
And I said, “Ok, let’s do it.”
His eyes widened, his mouth shut,
But his jubilant smile made it up.

Time to rejoice,
Time to dream,
Time was short, time was not.
For five months,
We laughed, we cried,
It was a roller-coaster ride.

Finally we got married,
One fine autumn evening,
A ceremony so pure,
Without grandeur.
In a place so dear,
Full of blessings and cheer.

The world shifted,
Its axis tilted.
Now a touch, a kind word,
A certain look in his eyes,
Were more precious
Than all the jewels in the world.

A business to expand,
A novel to publish,
New ventures to begin,
Another world to explore.
Life’s exciting, life’s good,
My humble heart’s full of gratitude.

I don’t know when,
I don’t know how,
Isn’t it a strange tale?
Of a beautiful sail,
Through myriad swells,
To wedding bells.

Thursday, December 3, 2015

Wednesday Morning

The day crawls,
The afternoon stalls,
The silence haunts,
The stillness warns.

A distant rumbling,
A flash of lighting,
Storm clouds roll,
Darkness descends.

My heart leaps,
A sigh escapes,
The tingling begins,
A smile threatens.

Thundering roars,
Bursts of light,
Doors crash,
Windows rattle.

Trees sway,
Winds growl,
A loud clap,
Blessings pour.

My nose savours,
The earthly whiff,
Warmth seeps in,
The coffee brews.

Sheets of water,
Pelting the roofs,
Scurrying feet,
Huddling bodies.

Fuzzy panes,
Glistening chains,
Temptation beckons,
Impatience grows.

Skipping down the stairs,
Hurrying out,
A moment’s hesitation,
Then time’s out.

Arms outstretched,
Face upturned,
Twirling gaily,
Laughter bubbling.

Uncaring of the cold,
Undeterred by cries,
My mind’s unleashed,
My heart’s content.

Loneliness recedes,
Hope renews,
Fears flee,
Joy resides.

Life seems perfect.
My journey continues…

Wednesday, December 2, 2015

Self - Help

What is ‘self-help’? If we are looking for the simplest meaning then it is ‘to help oneself without depending on the aid of others’. The phrase seems very mundane and unimportant, but on the contrary it is a significant outlook on life in the modern world.
‘Self-help’ has many aspects to it. There are ‘self-help’ books on various fields in education and also psychological aid. These prompt us to work on our own. Under the wing of ‘self-help’ our self-confidence grows and matures. It teaches us to be independent and fend for ourselves, and essentially, to be responsible for our own progress. The inner ‘self-help’ to my mind is more important. It gives us the power to control our emotions and slowly achieve total control of our mind and being. This method of ‘self-help’ is something like the free-progress system in our school; the spirit is the same: to have the scope of maximum progress at our own speed towards our selected goals.
But if we carry this idea of ‘self-help’ too far I think the world would become a colder home. It is already growing lonelier, for everyone is busy running their own life, trying to catch their ever-receding aims and not achieving much. Yet they are always in a hurry, intent on the success of their lives, oblivious of the others. Gone are the days when the parents taught their children all the work and sat back proudly watching their success. Now the moment the hatchlings are big enough to fly, they are left on their own. The warmth of exchanging knowledge has nearly disappeared for no one has a minute to spare. Behind the idea of ‘self-help‘, the growing independence and neglect of other’s advice, is changing life itself.

With all its indispensable qualities ‘self-help’ is very necessary in today’s world. But don’t you think … a few moments by the evening fire, as the dark shadows creep in the corners of the room, an old grandma rocking in her favourite chair, her wrinkled face shining with nostalgia, recounting her long life’s various experiences, is … beautiful, and equally essential?