Straight from the Heart

I craned my ears, intent to hear. I walked for miles into the sea. And yet the waves lapping gently at the feet, Had no excited chatter to offer to me. It seems as if time moves in slow motion. Even the sea is a picture of serenity. The sandy beach that stretches for miles Seems content to preserve the footprints for eternity. The crabs paint the beach red And make intricate patterns on the sand. With no one to disturb their mid-day siesta They make for a sight-so beautiful and grand! Nature is at its best here. Because the waves of humanity is kept at bay. The only time when silence is broken here, Is when the lazy waves have something to say.   Mandarmoni-13th March 2010

The lift-man gauged me with his stare and pointed to the service elevator, a little way down the corridor. “That’s the one we use to transport heavy-weights,” he said matter-of-factly before proceeding to shut the cage door of the elevator. My expressions changed from one of surprise, to dismay, to anger! What the hell, I wanted to scream out loud but checked myself, aware of the surroundings around me. It was a hospital and the decorum prevented people from shouting out loud, no matter how painful or hurtful the situation might be. However, my heart refused to be cowed down and directed by it my eyes sought to pin the lift-man with a cold gaze, which seemed to tell him, “What do you think yourself to be- A Joker of some sort?” “If so go and join a circus team. Why come to the civilised world in search of a living? And who the hell are you to call me heavy-weight? Do you realise its similar to a racist or sexist slur? In the land of milk and honey-USA-the law prevents anyone from cl...

SCENE 1 A House where a “ Neta” from Party Zee comes calling just before the election: Knock Knock….Door opened by an aged man. The neta is standing with folded hands and a smile on his face. His 2 chamchaas are standing beside him, fanning the neta with hand fans. Aged man—Sorry, I am unable to place you. My age is such that I do not remember the names these days. Do I know you? If I am not mistaken, you look like a politician! Chamcha no. 1—What a shame! Ghor Kalyug hai! You no knowing the great man, reverend sri sri Gammchaa da?? Chamcha 2 to the neta--- Chhee Chee….sir forgive him sir..he doesn’t know what he is saying sir. Aged man—Gamchha da?? No, am sorry, never heard of him! Where do you stay sir? Chamcha 1--- Isshhh….stopped by the neta Neta--- I am the local MLA of this constituency. Whatever you see here has happened because of my will. It was I who thought that this place needs a good park where people can go for their morning walk. So I got the park constru...

A fallen rose by the side of the lake. Smelling stale, a few petals torn, Nipped early in the bud. Probably used to woo someone’s girl-friend, Or as an ornament for the female head dress. Maybe a rendezvous object, probably to identify self? Who knows which womanly heart it filled, By its fragrance and touch? And now it lay uncared for, Sacrificed at the altar of love!

The monkey bared it teeth in irritation,                             swinging from a branch of a tree. The Macaw’s cacophony-like laughter seemed,                                        To add salt to the injury! Birds of varied feathers, screeched noisily,                          and flew in circles inside the cage. The hippopotamus lazily rose from the water,                      shaking its head, as if in a fit of rage! The noise awoke...

Like a cocoon That encloses the larvae And shapes it slowly with love and tenderness Till the butterfly is born. Inside the grey walls, Another metamorphosis took place. The child was slowly transformed. Dreams took shape. Courage and determination were acquired. Then the butterflies spread their wings, Each one in search of a corner of the globe. To acquire his/her own domain. Back again in the winter of 2009, To strengthen the bonds weakened by time. How has life treated you all these years? Is the common question that one hears. While most have developed a balding pate, I notice the greying around the temples of my mates. One or two have bloated beyond belief. Stress and tension obviously their partners for keep. One of us remains unmarried till date! Another has chosen to become a father, rather late! It is time to reach out and bridge the years gone past. Lets shake the hands and embrace each other, like brothers long lost. Thank you all you wonder...

Your bangles no longer jingle. The eyes have lost their lustre. The lines on the face say it all. About the journey through 40 springs and fall. We fight so often these days. Contrary to the hours spent earlier in idle talk. Sometimes there seems nothing to share, Though that’s not a sign of the relationship’s wear! From fourteen to all of forty years, Its been a journey well tread. While moments, a few, have been a trifle dull. It certainly isn’t a case of love getting lulled. Attraction has given way to contentment, At the thought of each one close at hand. On your birthday, this fortieth year. My strength, I gift anew, to battle all your fears. Oct 19th, 2009