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Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Is there still Time to

What is it to be a woman all alone?
I know what it is.
Being a woman makes all the difference.
Freedom – it is open to men.
To a woman, especially a lone woman
almost too hard to attain,
exemptions granted.
In general, with ordinary folk
it is a bit too rough a path.

I wasted so many good years of my life,
clinging to people, one after the other,
adhering to principles, throwing away chances.
All the humiliations I have suffered,
all the insults, all the deprivations,
all the disillusionments, all the losses,
they weigh me down.

I am accused of being stupid.
It hurts though it is true in many ways,
when it comes from those handfuls of people
I still count close to my heart.

Then I realize what it is to be
a good friend, a good companion
a good support.
It is to be there quiet, listening;
not criticising, not blaming,
not advising, not counselling,
not pacifying with words hollow.
It is just being there,
by your side through thick and thin.

Because words alone will do no magic.
To each person life is unique.
One’s comprehension of it will not match
the other’s perception and experience.
To each, situations, opportunities
experiences all differ.
Putting one’s trust in others....
if that be a crime, I am guilty of it.
Is there a chance to rectify?
Is there still time to?

My Home, a Monument

When I come home,
it is the same house.
I miss the people who made it home,
welcoming me with a full smile,
a leaping heart and a sigh of relief.

My parents, the old, fragile beings,
doomed to spend their lifetime
toiling, travelling, tending.

Working in village schools,
teaching two different languages
to teenagers struggling to find their own language,
they stayed away from their children on compulsion;
a price they gladly paid for opting
to stay in the village, their homeland.
A price they paid dearly for opting
to send their children away for studies.

Now the house is just a house.
They are gone, all services rendered,
all prices paid, they left for their havens,
leaving this husk of a family,
this house, a monument of all the pains,
the silent sufferings,  the sacrifices,
the tears, the frustrations,
the despair,  the disappointments,
the victories, the rejoicings,
the laughter,the mirth.
My home, A monument.

Monday, November 28, 2011


When you speak,I listen.
My ears don't just pick up the words,
they try to register the underlying thoughts.
My mind gets alert
the moment I hear you speak;
looking for signs of the internal patterns:
hidden, un revealed patterns of thoughts, feelings,
motives,or intentions.

Many a time I feel disappointed
as I find the wrong combinations.
Words, verbal expressions of thoughts and feelings
generated in the goldmine of the heart,
often prove themselves to have origins elsewhere,
prompting one to regard them as mere noises;
empty, hollow, meaning nothing,
not to be regarded seriously,
as they ought to be.

Are words thus to be squandered?
Are they to be treated with such irreverence?

Sunday, November 27, 2011

You are Free

You are free.
Set free in fact!
I can't consider you a burden
You are not 'other'
you are one with me,
a part, an essential part,
integral to my being!

If I were a part of you
I wouldn't have been a burden to you,
a heavy one at that !
But it is not up to me.

I can love you
the way I always do
and you can read it
in my actions if you try to.
picture courtesy:creative writing ink, November 21 writing prompthttp://creativewriting.ie/wp-content/uploads/2011/11/couple.jpg

Stay with Me

Why do people talk?
Umpteen possible answers.
Most ones quite plausible as well.
I wish I could stop talking,
at least to a certain extent.
I would like to put a reign on my tongue.
Less, less and much less talk,
shrink, withdraw, curl, coil.
The conversation that goes on endlessly
within my mind will go on,
but I wish to stop, rather limit my verbalization.

I wish to talk to myself,only to myself .
Then there will be no finger pointed at my face,
no blaming, no criticizing.
I will not be charged with crimes I never committed,
crimes I never even fancied.

To be with myself
that is safe, peaceful.
No talking about sufferings, pains, losses
betrayals, neglect, exploitations
no tears, no useless arbitration.

Human company is torment.
The more the dependence the more the pain.
Independence is best.
Within relationships the smarter ones
see to it that the other one does not claim it.
Then talk, bitter talk emerges
from the one who aspires freedom,
independence, space.
Realizations dawn gradually,
it is not easy to break off,
to re establish free existence.

Try as I might, I fail.
Things do not fall in place.
Years it takes and futile attempts!
Things just refuse to fall in place.

I speak about my frustrations
my losses, my time running out.
I wish not to accuse, criticise or blame.
My intentions are different but words,
right words do not come at the right time.
I end up like I rave and rant.
Others with their mastery of words conquer me
I become what I am not, in their words
what I never was, never wished to be.

Then I wish I could keep my words to myself.
If they are of no help to me,
if they too are ineffectual just like me,
why send them forth?
Just like I wish to keep myself to myself
my words too, with me stay.

Sunday, November 20, 2011

Coming To Terms With...

Is the greatest challenge
that life throws one’s way
is the call to prove
one’s ability to
come to terms with life itself?

The quest to find the meaning,
the purpose, the significance
of life is common to many.

The elusive answers
some stumble upon
do not hold together
for the rest.
Each has to find one.

My Way To Liberation

Numerous queries line up,
awaiting their turn to find a voice.
They wait eagerly to obtain a form
and come into existence.
I choke them down.

Each thought is weighed,
analyzed, and phrased.
No analysis yields satisfaction.
Phrasings fail.
I refuse to shape them.

They remain within me,
in due course retreating
far down the dark alleys of memory,
offering their space for posterity.
Sometimes emptiness fills in.
It is then that liberation sets in.


Image Courtesy: Creative Writing Ink, November 14th: http://creativewriting.ie/2011/11/14/november-14th-creative-writing-prompt-2/