Till We Meet Again

Last year this day, my dad had suddenly left us. A year has gone by and just too soon. It’s unbelievable where all the time goes. His absence doesn’t seem to be real even for a second. It just always feels like he is around, and I’ll see him soon. The latter must be true but in another sense of the term.

And, here’s what I think he may be up to right now:

In the garden of eternal bliss

Squatting in your little corner

Busily you inspect the blooming bud

Fluffy white clouds whisper into your ears

Disapprovingly you wave your hands

Your very own characteristic way
 
Lessons in gardening is not what you need

They don’t know it – the fluffy white clouds

Little fairies hover around you

Their playfulness you always seek

Radiant bees and dazzling butterflies
 
Gleaming caterpillars and lustrous lady bugs

Cheerfully hang around here and there

Ramifying into a full-grown iridescent flower

The blooming bud twinkles and beams

Smiling away from the corner of your lips

Your very own characteristic way

It’s time to go look for the pond

Where the rainbow shimmers day and night

The exuberant golden fish eagerly awaits

It’s time to share, time to debate

Your very own characteristic way

Walk of Life

 Calm, poised, and unperturbed

 Alone but not lonely, it rides the tides

 Greenish yellow with serrated edges

 Light and weightless, it bounces along

 Savours everything that comes its way

 Dances through the turbulent hill stream 
 
 Drifts across the glassy placid lake
 
 Sways in the graceful murmuring river 
 
 Doused by water, sparkling and murky
 
 Not sodden nor shaken, it glistens and shines

 Tumbles into the vast limitless ocean

 Rises and falls, plays with the waves

 Infinite happiness and boundless joy

 Home at last, it smiles in peace

 Doors have opened, time has come 

 It wilts, it fades, it withers away!
   

Rambling Mind & Office Meetings

There are these office meetings where you have nothing much to do, many of you would surely know what I am talking about. You suppress your yawns that invariably appear as your eyes water, you fidget with your pen/pencil, or doddle away on a paper pretending that it’s your way of concentrating.

And, if you have ever been part of such meetings virtually, you know how that feels like. It only gets worse. Though you may argue that it is perhaps better as nobody’s watching and you are free to yawn or do whatever you wish. But remember, you are in isolation, limited by your laptop screen. Boredom strikes, your mind wanders, and if your name is suddenly called out when you aren’t paying attention, well then……embarrassing it is…

Now, if you happen to be in India working with a global team, it’s as torturous as it can be as most of these meetings will happen late in the evenings. A good lullaby to your half-asleep self.

Last week, during one such boring office meeting, I opened a Word doc and started scribbling. I didn’t pay much attention to what I was writing as half my mind was listening to the meeting conversations. I read what I had written later and it was yet another dark poem. Not again – I told myself. Why does this happen? I am not particularly unhappy or depressed. Rather, I’d like to believe that I am a very positive person. Sometimes, my enthusiasm about certain things in life drives my family and friends up the wall. Hence, strange that these poems become dark.

Here’s what I had written:

Rambling Mind

Into the never-ending dark abyss

The mind twists and turns

Worries and doubts and uncertainties abound

I had shut the gates, didn’t I?

Creepy creatures that they are

Ugly monsters that dwell in the dark

The mind, restless and edgy

One tiny slim ray of light, powerful and strong

Shimmers, gleams, and pierces through

They melt and dissolve, those creatures of the dark

The light was here, right here, just yesterday

I had seen it, didn’t I?

Vanished today, out of sight

The bright and powerful light, could it still be here?

Stuck with the nasty and the noxious

The mind that sometimes refuses to try!

Malicious Thoughts

art fingers foggy hand

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dark clouds spread across the sky

All romantic and gay, you’d think

Gloom and grey was all that was there

The mind strides into a world of its own

Spiraling thoughts jumble up from nowhere

Like wisps of curling strands of smoke

Rising from recesses deep within

Awakening from their silent slumbers

Creeping up, their wretched ugly heads

Thoughts that I struggle to leave behind

Wickedly they smile, mock my being

With renewed strength and new-found vigor

My strong self looks away, makes no eye contact

Their presence overpowers, grips me tight

I fall prey for the thousandth time

To their malicious intents and roughish ways

Alas, the dark clouds that filled the sky!

Etched

Life was peaceful

Running at its own pace

Riding the waves of the good

And the not so good

Drawing comfort from the equilibrium

I had found my own happy home

With checks and balances in place

Like a painting carefully laid out

Carpeting the cold tiled floor

Along came a ray of sunlight

Bursting the painting with joy unknown

Every colour sprinkled alive

Sparkling bright in their own glorious ways

Just then the season changed

Drops of rain dribbled from nowhere

The colours ran into each other

Helter skelter, here and there

Streamed onto the cold tiled floor

The painting could hold no longer

Remnants of the jubilant colours

But refuse to fade away….