Recycled

recycled-
old memories
into a poem

While teaching my students to recycle stuff to save the environment, I too followed that lead and came out with this. I have not written a short verse for a long time now.

Wired Thoughts

draping my thoughts on a wire,
freeing the mind, i survey the sky
looking quizzically for answers,
willing it to shed wisdom.

i droop my head to the earth,
asking the same questions.
rough surface ricochets it
back to my mind, unbroken.

turning to the raging river
i again try to end burden within.
nevertheless, flowing water
washes the thoughts, returning

it over again. i stop wandering
pause a while, reflecting over.
suddenly the cobwebs clear
making me feel so liberated.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Some days are such a burden....

Phenomena of Triviality-----Sunday Scribblings

Sunday Scribblings asks us to write about phenomenon.


Villanelle of the Sciences

in my younger days, phenomenon meant scientific
events recurring could be comprehended with proofs
explanations were a plethora with no blatant tricks.

learning those bigger formulae never made me sick
we took those in a stride, uncaring of any spoofs.
in my younger days, phenomenon meant scientific

mind was nurtured with extreme care brick by brick-
stimulation provided for thinking out of the loops
explanations were a plethora with no blatant tricks.

there was nothing in the discipline i could not pick,
knowledge was paramount, never considered goofs
in those good old days, phenomenon meant scientific.

this made commencement of it appealing to click
in psych taking my intelligence beyond the roofs,
explanations were a plethora with no blatant tricks.

paradoxes proved only the rule, learning was quick
certain theories though tricky but followed in groups.
in my younger days, phenomenon meant scientific,
explanations were a plethora with no blatant tricks.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As a student of science, I am more familiar with the various scientific phenomena. I mugged a few, understood some and hated the rest. I never quite understood how could any event or non-event become a phenomenon.

The word has become synonym with blind following with no rhyme or reason. Mass adulation is a phenomenon now. Blind following borders on insanity and mass hysteria.
We can make or break a person thus. How and why such events occur is hard to say.

In our schools, we tend to call examinations as phenomena, which almost all students and a few teachers hate. This works in a negative way.

A few years back, Indian girls started winning international beauty pageants. Every young girl worth her salt wants to follow their example. I think we can do without this kind of happenings. What we need is more and more girls following women who contributed for the betterment of the society and not just be decorative pieces.

Lately any stupid news becomes breaking news. This has been seen since the emergence of news channels. All want viewers and resort to cheap publicity. The captions are interesting too, titillating the minds of the viewers.

Strange that my mind has started to waver and wander. Is that a signal to stop my rambling?! Is that some kind of omen or a phenomenon? Scientific or otherwise? What say, folks?

Read more phenomena...

Civilization------Poetry Thursday

outside the windowsill,
a tiny leaf sprouts
nervous of the terrain
but eager to absorb
the sunshine. light
stares back, unsmiling
willing the leaf to be
useful. sipping a little
water, it senses changes,
each pore tingling
opening to ensconce
those noxious gases
yet giving out oxygen-
sustaining all life forces.
understandings the
purpose of its life,
shoot blossoms to tree
perpetuating the world.

we, the civilized ones
ax it down to ground.

touching the stars-----3WW

Reality
Fan
Mind

Those words somehow fit the poem already formed in my mind. They only fanned the reality of it. I write this poem for a student of mine. She clams up all of a sudden. One can only see tears streaming down her face. We do not know what ails her. We have tried to reach her but for no avail. My heart feels for that sweet intelligent girl who refuses to communicate in any way. She needs counselling but her parents refuse to take her to one.

touching the stars

Reaching within your mind
seems impossible. coaxing is
of no avail, tears act like a
stranger impassively indifferent.

closed visage enhances
ongoing rage chasing
in circles. nubile thoughts
seem removed from reality.

Tell me girl, what ails you?
help is at hand if only you
let go. do not fan that anger,
or let anguish pour forth.

silence speaks volumes
though indecipherable to us.
give vent to those tortured
thoughts, accept comfort.

let the winds blow away
those cobwebs of angst.
acknowledge beauty of life
grabbing it with both hands.

Come, touch the stars with me.

I do not know how to end this poem other than this. Today in school, I kept thinking of her and wanted so much to help her. Unless her parents wish it, I cannot do anything other than talk to her.

Books won in drawings from my blogger friends

I won two books from two different blogger friends in book drawings. I had entered just for the heck of it. It was amazing that I won two books in the span of few days and I received both the books today.



1) Murder on the Menu edited by Peter Haining, is a collection of stories of Crimes and Mystery. This I won from Dewey. You can check out BAFAB drawing winners.





2) My Mother's Garden: A collection About Love, Flowers and Family in the form of esaays, stories and poems by writing gardeners and gardening writers. I won this from Sioux. Please do check out And the winner is... where she shows the actual drawing of my name.






I am thrilled to bits and the next few days are going to be interesting reading these two books along with others. I am so glad that both the books are so varied in subject. I will try to write reviews as soon as I finish reading these books and post those on My Own Little Reading Room.

Fascinating Revulsion----Sunday Scribblings

This week Sunday Scribblings has gone Wicked.

Wicked does have many connotations. The meaning has changed over the years. Previously being wicked was taken for evil. It described the witches. Stepmothers were always wicked. Folk lore is full of wicked stuff.

What does it mean to me? We do feel wicked at point or the other. It might not manifest itself but it is there deep within out psych. Sometimes it makes us guilty as hell for thinking and feeling that way. However I feel as long as it is only in our thoughts and do not affect anyone other than us, it does no lasting damage.

We are familiar with that playful wickedness also. I love to be part of that. So many times I have been wickedly wicked. Playing pranks and getting on nerves. One is wicked without evil intentions, in a playful manner.

We have faced real wicked people too. You can actually feel that evil aura surrounding them. One gets an uneasy feeling and wants to get away from them. At times escaping that is very difficult, as one is pulled into that whirlpool of evil thoughts. We are assailed by such uneasy feelings, those unknown, unexplained fears that refuse to leave us. You cannot shake it away.

I post here a poem depicting one such person. ( At times, I cannot do without poetry!!)

Fascinating Revulsion

morbid thoughts assail me
with out fail when
i come into your
presence. your smiling
countenance belies
evil thoughts you
harbour. your deeds are
in variance of what one
contrives from your
visage. serene expression
hides a hideous mind.
that soft voice corrodes
deep before one can
escape that caustic
barb veiled in honey.
suspended between that
revulsion and fascination,
we are sucked into
that black hole of your
carefully concocted designs.

...not any more, i escaped...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Read more wickedness...

Reading Update: Posted review for Man's Search For Meaning on my Reading Room blog. This book should be read by everyone. ..yes everyone.

Intangibles-----Terza Rima---Poetry Thursday

intangibles is mirrored in the orbs of your eye
however, you see me watching you intimately
to read the mystery embedded deeply. you sigh

unwilling to share that enigma shielded so closely
by none other than you. even from me, who is but
you. I discerned it right from the beginning, wholly

accepting it, questions farther from my mind. shut
me out, if you must, in the end you have to arrive
tapping at my heart, asking to stay, twisting my gut.

you know not, your love shows though you strive
to keep it in check by your coldness or plain anger
nothing can hide that aura bursting forth. deprive

me if you must, why deny yourself that sensation
which is beyond intelligence, beyond comprehension?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Do read my free verse, Spaced Out, which was my first PT post of this week. That hits hard.

Short Story---Normal---3WW

Cope
Revealed
Stick

"Shit!" He thought. Jason was ever so bored with such crowds. He seldom attended parties. Paul, his business partner had insisted and he could not refuse. Now, Jason stood there holding a drink. He looked around and stopped short. She was so breathtakingly beautiful with long silky black hair, dark eyes, and full kissable lips. He felt something stirring inside him. It astonished him.

She was laughing at something Paul was saying. Jason walked towards he, looking deep into her mysterious eyes, said, "I am Jason. And you?" "Olivia," she answered. Though her expression had revealed nothing of the strong attraction, she had felt for him, she too had been watching him all along and was very pleased when he reached her.

"Dance?" He asked.
"Yes. Paul, will you excuse us, please?" She asked turning back towards Paul. He gave a strange look towards Jason and said, "Be my guest."

After that, there was no looking back. Jason forgot his boredom. They were inseparable dancing into the wee hours. He had a gut feeling it was a start of something new in his life. He was confused by his own reactions. However, he wanted to savour the moment. He knew people were talking about him and Olivia. His lifestyle was not exactly a closed book. He had not really cared much before. Now he thought, with her on his side, he could cope with anything.

When the party ended, Jason was reluctant to let her go. He wanted both of them to stick to each other forever. He felt he had found his soul mate. Finally asked, "Would you like to come with me tonight?" Olivia was silent for a moment. Her thoughts somehow echoed his. In the washroom, she had heard enough gossip. That did not bother her at all. "Yes," she answered finally.

In the lift up to his apartment, they could not keep their hands off each other. He was pleasantly surprised. In addition, very pleased with her body's responses to his. Next morning, Jason woke up and stretched, smiling to himself. It had never been so good before this. Most important, he was normal. He could not have asked for more. Olivia was after all, Oliver.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Please don't forget to read my review of John Steinbeck's The Moon is Down. You won't be disappointed. Another must read book. I recommend it strongly.

Spaced Out

close as close could be,
with no room for privacy
I have lived here
as long, I remember.
go on living
as long as I breathe.
shanties are what is home
shame has no meaning
space is but a word-
what use is it for me?

why do you smirk,
why the surprise-
this is after all my life.
born here,
watched my siblings
conceived,
while they watched
my children being born.
that somehow balances
the untold guilt.

I cannot see the sky
however, I am near the earth.
lived since my birth
would stay until my demise.

would death give me liberty?!










This post was inspired by Carmi Levy@written Inc from his post Density, squared. Do check out his blog. You won't be disappointed by any of his posts.

I have put up pictures of slums from Delhi and Mumbai. Well, I cannot compare with Carmi!

PS: I think I need to polish my free verse! It has rusted over the slack weeks!