Magic of Books

We devour books

By different authors

About different places

With different perspectives

Diverse stories in

Written in various

Language, words and vocabulary

Idioms, metaphors and phrases

We become inhabitants of the story

A keen observer or listener or

A lizard on the wall

Watching the characters build up

The taut tension between them

and then the resolution

(Or lack of it)

The beginning and the end

The two fixed ends of any story

The story stretched out in between

Just like the tension

Of a guitar string

That creates harmonics

(And the disharmony)

It is punctuated with

Vibes, noise and silences

Books are our escape

Just like music or movies

They create an imaginary world

For us to inhabit

Even if momentarily

Till the last page of the book

The places which are real

For the writer

Become our wild imagination

Our ultimate refuge

Most blissful death

Would be perhaps

Being completely lost in a book

Imagine walking on those

Cobbled street of another time

Or in a futuristic world

And getting left behind forever

For there is no coming back!!

No rude awakenings

Morning alarms and drudgery

No looking out for your

Favourite characters or places

We will become as unreal

Or Surreal as them!!

PS: Ramblings after the monthly book club meeting

Unseen


They are in plain sight
Yet they are invisible
They are dismissed
Ignored, unloved
By life itself

Who condemns them
To remain unseen
Unheard and unknown?
Just like blank spaces
In between words

Once you erase them
All sentences seem
Gibberish
Blank spaces that filled in
Also gave meaning

Alas! Life too needed
Such lives
unseen, invisible
Lurking around
Humiliated

Blank spaces
Humiliated by words
Unseen in sentences
Yet giving meaning to
Those very words

When will we learn
To respect
Those unseen
Invisible
But essential?

15th Feb, Bangalore

The Blue Door

There is a blue door at end of the road. People say it’s the door to the happiness.  One can hear laughter and songs, but no one is ever seen crossing the threshold. Neighborhood believes that all the peace and happiness has got locked behind the blue door. No one knows who has locked all the joy away but the sadness and anger that is left behind is quite palpable.

As one walks down the road, one can hear screams of the locked lunatic sibling coming from an attic of one house. They say he lost his mind over a girl who was forced to marry someone from her clan. From another house one can hear heart rending lament of a mother whose only child has gone missing. A misogynist cop rants and screams in the other one, ordering his wife and children who tremble with fear. A young girl screams hysterically in the next one whenever she hears a footstep, “They are coming for me. Save me.”

The town has a church, a temple, synagogue and a mosque where prayers are held daily. Everyone prays for peace and prosperity that they think is locked elsewhere behind the Blue door. They all hold each other’s faith in doubt. They all live in constant fear and pride of their gods. They fight and attack each other relentlessly. It feels as though they are compelling their gods to compete in a race to gain the highest glory and power of the land (just like they wanted the children to compete once upon a time). Sadly, they have managed to drive both gods and children away.

After prayers everyone returns to the little hell they have managed to create. The Blue door remains shut forever. In their fight, hatred and bigotry, the town has forgotten that the gods have left key to the door with them – the key that opens only when there is love and kinship.

Howling Winds

It was in the news

Cyclonic storm was on its way

They did what they could

To prevent the disaster

They monitored the eye and the tail

There it was circulating,

feeding on winds

And gathering momentum

It all seemed calm on the shores

Till the waves began to move faster

It came closer,

Sounds of the howling winds

Made it all real

Everyone knew

All preparations were made

All estimates looked good

But there was no way to assess

The damage it did

Young ones quivered in fear

Homeless knew they will be

Unaccounted ones

Lonely man walked on the street

Unaware of the perils

No one had told him to be safe

He took shelter under the very tree

That crushed him minutes later

Howling winds

Harbingers of death

Preyed on lonely, helpless

And homeless

Farmers lamented as

Entire harvest got washed away

No one realised

Storm was our harvest

By feeding Earth, wind and seas

Our anger, disgust, greed,

wastes, pollutants and hatred

Cyclonic storm just churned it all.around

And returned what we had reaped

With anger and vengeance

Winds, earth and sea turned hostile

Howling winds perhaps were warning us –

“Don’t be a bully

It all can all boomerang very badly!! “

Jump

Unable to find answers

Unable to bear the questions

Acutely aware

Of all closed doors

And humiliations

And all silences

She decided to jump

As she walked along the edge

Too many thoughts

Crowded her mind

She wanted to cut loose

From the past

From the present

The questions

The helplessness

The despair

Her luckless and

Loveless life

When no one pays heed

When life is cruel

What’s the point?

What’s the point?

On and on

The thoughts fogged her mind

Tears blinded her vision

Suddenly a stranger stopped her

“Please take one bunch please.

I haven’t eaten whole day”

A blur of bunch of yellow roses

Were staring at her face

Prodding her was

Another voice of despair

Carrying a bunch of bloom

What an irony!!

She paid the boy

And watched the train go by

She brought home

The yellow flowers.

She wondered…

There is a point maybe…

There are people maybe…

There are doors maybe…

There are paths maybe…

There is a future maybe…

That day she didn’t jump

But took a leap of faith instead!

Time

Time is wrapped
We move forward
But yet in circles

A new beginning
Another New Year
All dots
On the circles

Time is a trap
An endless wrap
Moving forward
Yet in circles

Histories repeat
Dictators return
But tyrant
Time
Beats them all

Let us not despair
No one colour or
One faith can
Rule Forever

Light refracts
Even through
The Prism of Religion
Into a Rainbow

All mighty forever
Will bite the dust
As children of soil
Will rise yet again

Time goes in circles
Some look ahead
Forgetting the wrap
Others who look behind
Fall in the trap

There is no way
Back into the womb
Only death awaits
Ahead

Time moves forward
While moving in circles
Maybe Sisyphus is happy
For he knows
The clock ticks…

Strangeness

In a strange city

Trees grow

In abandoned homes

And uprooted people

Dwell beside the roads

There is no place

To plant trees

There is no home

For migrants

Trees grow

Inside old homes

And people grow old

Without homes

Both trees and people

Have become refugees

And homes are empty

Devoid of love

And compassion

Trees and people

Search for roots

In a strange city

On a strange planet

Emerging from the Dark

Engulfed by the light

Blinded

By own luminous being

Unable to see or feel

How others feel…

An era of knowledge

Bereft of Wisdom

Desensitized

Sensitivity reigns

A world

where refugee children

Face trials

Four year olds

Die smothered with lust

Hope is a lost cause

Let darkness descend

Light has led us nowhere

Maybe answers we seek

Lie in darkness

Let there be dark

And quiet healing

While emerging from the dark

Maybe we will learn to behold Beauty

And the Truth yet again!

Syrian Refugee Crisis – Is History repeating itself with role reversals?

Last whole week disturbing images and stories of migrants crossing precariously into Europe from Syria have gripped the media headlines and rightly so! We humans love creating conflicts/wars without giving a thought to the fallout of the conflict. Human instinct is to survive, even if it requires to flee one’s homeland. The walk of refugees to the Austrian border from Hungary has created history and so has Germany’s open welcome to refugees. It is the human movement and dynamics which creates the political history and geographical realities of the world. We are living in an highly intriguing era where demographic distribution of population is all set to change forever and so will the image of Germany! Germany is finally able to absolve itself of its historic Nazi era guilt by welcoming refugees and migrants. What goes around, comes around indeed!!!!