My Neem Tree Story

 

As a seed, as remains of 

what a bird found some use for

I was sown unawares, and

a flowerpot took care of me.

As a foliage, everyday,

I looked at the sky,

in all its splendor

And my grower too

awed at me in wonder.

I learnt and was busy all day.

My needs were plain

and I grew just fine.

When I outgrew my pot,

cognizant of my growth, 

my tender grower found me 

a suitable alternative 

in the same old high terrace.

Now...

I am the all-grown-up 

neem sap in a growbag.

All day, I am hungry for more.

Always drooping and sore,

I keep pondering about 

my mixed feelings:

If I stay where I am,

I am stuck and stifled.

With my roots drilling deep

and branches sprawling broad,

I have no room to grow

and my entire being,

body and soul,

keeps screaming for space.

Some fellow know-it-alls say

I am grown and seen enough

and must tend to myself...

The best I can do

is to adjust, stay happy, 

and be composed.

But there are times, when

I curse my fate, and

sulk at my inability to move.

I am also in a predicament:

If I leave, I have concerns

for my grower.

We've come this far,

and intertwined in our beings,

that we know not 

Who takes care of whom.

Who provides for whom.

And who gives or takes 

love from the other.

But I certainly do know that

this is not the way to do.

~ 15 Jan, 2022

Mood

 

Today the mood was a complete wash out. No mending it at the end of day for its shortfall. No adjustments whatsoever. When you prepare a dish, you check and adjust its taste for salt and pepper. Today the dish was being fixed and was meant for the bin.

~ 11 Jan , 2022

What Am I Doing These Days

 

A long forgotten friend asked me 

what I was doing these days.

After a brief ponder, I say:

Am trying to lay my hands on, 

on all that's my bother.

Grasp it, and look closer.

At times, i wonder if it's my error.

I know I must break it down, and

define each bother, 

its characteristic

And then, think of a fix.

At times, I think, find, apply.

But fail, either because 

i don't know if it's the right path, 

Or because i don't persist.

And then, I blame myself

for holding things, or,

at times, I realise and let go.

At times, I wonder if I let go, 

Is it either at the wrong time

or the wrong thing.

~ Nov 24, 2021

The Ticking Clocks

 

There are many things to be afraid of. The impending death of a loved one, harsh words in return for a noble and innocent deed, scratch on a car owing to a misjudgement. But ticking of clocks in a room full of light? In hindsight, today the two clocks ticking in unison didn't bother much. But yesterday, they moved one after another. It ticked at the pace of a throbbing heart. Every pair of tick-tock was like someone jabbing the head when there was a migraine.

~ Nov 12, 2021

Saving Light

 

In the coming days, even light had to be saved for later, rationed for the present. So, she took one deep breath of the meagre light in the room to picture the arrangements, and blew off the steady flame of the candle.

~ Nov 12, 2021

All I Pray For

Is there a name

for a change of state

when words liquidate?

Those words, red-hot,

that are spewn on my face

And make my throat ache

Those words that constrict 

the water flowing down the throat, 

and it finds its way

out of the senses

All because...

I persuade the angered 

through reason, but

all that I receive is rejection

I preach acceptance

for what cannot change

but what remain

are words of dissonance

Accord disappears

and hurt prevails.

Aftermath, 

all I pray for is to learn 

to numb the racing thoughts

to accept the victory of defeat 

to obtain a tranquil retreat,

and

to be able to sense 

less of hurt

more of love

~ Oct 17, 2021

I AM

 

I am the peacock

ask the rains

I am the dog

ask my friends

I am the cheer

ask the kids

I am sanctity

ask my books

I am the dot

ask my focus

I am the student

ask obedience

I am the ground

ask silence

I am steel

ask the resolve

I am the canyon

ask my thoughts

I am trouble

ask my problems

~ Oct 08, 2021

Two Weeks Later

 

For days on end

you have scratched a wound 

that must have healed

Today, two weeks later,

you choose to cut it open

revealing your fuming anger

You put your best efforts

with your mastery of words

that drive me

to the edge of insanity

Why can't you move on

instead of insisting to drag on

Why do you choose to blame

instead of seeing ways to tame

Why make me suffer

instead of finding reasons to alter

Two weeks of my normal life

now seems to me like a trifle

In these days, I feel I was used

And so wasted.

All of it feels like a fake

If there was ever a sorry,

must it be for me or you, 

It is never for you,

because

to me, your wound never was.

~ Oct 03, 2021

What's Your Name

On every surprise rain day

a neighborhood parrot

sits atop the same frond

of an aged coconut tree.

It talks in childlike voices, and 

seems to be cooing for me

It makes me want to call back

in the same endearing tone.

But then, dear bird,

I know not your name.

I wish to sit beside you, and 

hear you say about your day.

Tell me... were you able to 

weave your victories, 

deal your difficulties,

knock down the naysayers,

and wade through the dangers?

Would you want to hear 

my day's stories as well?

Dear old wise coconut tree,

several minutes have gone past,

looks like the perched parrot

could not hear me quite...

I am sure you must have

heard my thoughts all right.

Why not? 

You've seen my phases

since my childhood, and

given me company 

during days of desolation 

and spurts of revelation

We've seen each other

through our gloomy days

of storms and rains, and made

the difficult days of pain fade.

Enough of all that I said...

Now, make me a friend

of the visiting shy bird

before it flies away unheard.

~ Sep 05, 2021

 

Necrosis

 

Do you see, my dear boy,

the tendril of a climber

that clinged on to a 

growing neem so slender

has created a necrotic patch

just above the line of latch

I have been wanting to say

that I don't mean to 

trample your flow alike

when I lay a firm grip 

on your forearm, and 

on your growing senses

in such a not so nice way

I only try to keep you away

from an impending disaster,

or to avoid a tense moment, 

which sooner would be 

a cathartic exploration 

of each other's anger

Now that I am out of denial,

the neem so much reminds me 

of your growing mind

So, will you forgive me 

for the necrosis,

'cos it's always a struggle 

for a learning parent

~ Sep 06, 2021

Rain Train

 

It's the wee hours of the morning

The rain train came tramping

My ears hitched the ride 

with joyful jumping

But then, the eyes and mind

had their reservations holding:

the mind satiated reading, while

the eyes were already drooping

'Why do you guys want to retire'

checked my cheerful ears

'I am drenched and full of fire

to quench my thumping desire'

The ears were frowned upon

Thus spake the eyes droning:

'The night is drowning, so

enough of your satire.

Don't you remember,

We are now locked down

inside our mundane spires

and are fish in troubled waters

We are the repressed 

and the spiritless,

And there's none to redeem us

Observe how the muted senses

impotently scream and keep

desolate reminders 

that we are all chained, and 

caged in waters neck deep.

So, let's just go sleep.'

~ Sep 04, 2021

Ikigai - A Short Review

 

• The book is a best seller because people went against the popular view of don't judge a book by it's cover.
• It's a quick and easy read, and not very time consuming unlike some other serious works. Usually, books of path-breaking books test our patience and needs a lot of our time to get the take aways. But, obviously they are worth the time. So, in essence, wrt the Ikigai book, you really don't have to work really hard and think.
• It takes research and key views from important books in the same area.

This point was what put me off. I agree most of the books are similar; they cannot exist without the numeral superscripts and a long list of reference books in the appendix. But in Ikigai, the concepts are freely discussed, like a review or the authors note-taking.

• Some of the points discussed are very particular to Japan's geo. And most of them do not have access to some of the so called super foods. 
• The point about community living is not something one can do much about, unless there are a bunch of other people who understand the importance of living in communal harmony, and come together to make such an arrangement.
• The book is more oriented towards living a long life. Wrt my current frame of mind, I really dunno if I need to live a long life! But yeah, my wish is still to age and die without trouble to self and others.

~ 09 Aug 2021

Sightings on an Uneventful Day

 

The man-woman tree... two distinct interwoven trees

Persistent birds perched on swaying branches

The banyan tree with perforated leaves

Cooing birds calling each other from spaced apart trees branches

A dozen of ravens perching on a barren tree

A hapless unstrung kite hanging free

~ 10 March, 2021

Still Around - A Year Later

Still Around, A Year Later 

It is 11:00 pm, after a long day

And have closed my eyes...

Intending to sleep,

Attending to each of my thoughts

As part of the regular rumination 

After a few seconds,

I see my dad walk down 

the stairs of our house.

He's at the main door.

It's broad daylight.

He walks towards me

in his usual gait,

firm and casual,

with no apparent pain

of his end years.

I notice the fresh blood 

on his forehead.

I know that this is 

of the clot 

that I discovered

so many hours later,

on the day of his death.

He asks, shall we?

I say, Yes, I am ready.

To be part of today's occasion

of laying our house's cornerstone.

~ 05Dec2024

Grief

 
A day or two later,
You are not sure if you are weeping 
You are not sure why you are weeping 
There are times,
You are not sure why you smiled 
at that old woman on the street 

And then,
You wonder if you ever smiled
at dad while he was still alive. 
and chidingly tell yourself...
What kind of daughter you were!
And sulk even more.

After a few days of not crying 
You think you have grieved, enough. 
Or at times, when you don't grieve,
You say, 
'See.. I told you. Grief is overhyped.' 

But, No. Out of nowhere, 
there are moments of 
'a very still life'
So much... that you wonder 
If there is still life.

Like, a few weeks later,
You are hurriedly paring the pineapple 
that kids need for their snacks break
And you don't curse but cry 
if when the knife dad had used was 
not sharp enough...

Now, no doubt. 
That is Grief.

~ 18Jan24 to 05Feb24

Sea's Handiwork

Waving to the shore.

Falling Rain Drops

On the red-tiled floor
I am lying flat, face up
with hands spread out
ajar like an open door

The falling rain drops
dot my resting body and
the rest of the terrace
like they've been
metered for pace
and sorted for shape

The falling rain
drops steady and even
like having passed
through a sieve

The falling rain drops
pierce soft needles
delivering divine nectar
through my skin

The falling rain
drops to take me to a place
devoid of cowering thoughts
and senseless pain

The falling rain drops
sing songs of relief
tapping into the void
and persistently find
the hidden words
in my dormant mind


~ Aug 17, 2021

The Fifth Monkey

There’s a tussle among the thoughts
Their quest is about
who must get thought about,
for how long and first.

These thoughts ace at striking me
just when I lay supine at night
They splash on my face
this handful of ice cold water
that I readily hold in my palms together.

I watch them in silence, and wonder:
how they flawlessly mimic
kids inside classrooms
waiting to run amok
at the ring of the relieving bells.

When I try to tame and distract,
there’s no harping or heeding.
Now I get it. No, they are not kids.
Like adolescents, they get better at it.

One after another, the adolescent me
fills the seats of the classroom,
and do just what they think.

While one of me thinks about
how much of a wonder a song is,
another one’s memory comes rushing in
fighting for my mind space,
and
I am already reeling out commentaries
about a recent song that
sets me on a trampoline
making me jump out of joy,
every time I listen to it, and
the other one that’s full of warmth
like a lover cuddling me
gently from behind, ear-to-ear,
resting their chin on my shoulder
when I am breathing in
the crisp, cold air on a breezy night.

Another of me now raises the hand
and recites an enticing analogy:
about the pleasures of finding
long-forgotten unsent notes
to a lover,
like that of seeing
misplaced, forgotten money
under folded, unused clothes.

A third one
points to the direction of my son
who murmurs, ‘no, I didn’t do it’,
in his sleep,
and makes me ponder
about how much of a bother
I have been to him.

Here comes version number four.
Who am I?
Where’s the missing euphoria, or,
was there even any such thing in me?
Guess I am just such a bore...

Around about the fifth hour
the fifth monkey sits up...
retching a papery white and blue
peppered with all these thoughts,
sweet and sour.

Like a good bout of vomit
throwing out the bad bile,
this poring act brought the relief
like the small pill that cures the ill,

And then came the sleep,
slow and still.


~ Jul 06

Did it Rain?

What am I hearing...

Gurgling water from parched spouts
Calming ripples of crowding water

Water splashing the rioting boys' faces
Soaked up dogs shaking the excess

Rustling plumes of drenched parrots
Flapping wings of taking-off pigeons

Hunger pangs of red roof-tiles
Hot soil slurping the pitter-patter rain

Thank you gestures of tender plants
Pendular heads of coconut trees

Cheerful birds flocking together
waiting to tweet their dusk prayers

Were these your visions too,
my beloved June Rain,
after you poured your heart out
on a dreary sultry crumbling evening?


~ 07 June, 2021

Colour Pencils

When you are dead meat
When you are battered
beyond recognition

When nothing makes sense
When your thoughts are incoherent
When written words are alien to you
When you cannot gather
anything together

When you indifferently reject
every redemptive proposition like
a badly written draft

And, when you have swung from
Unplugged to Headbangers
without second thoughts, and 

in a jiffy...

Talk to me, says the paper
Play with me, says the colours.


~Feb 2021

High Hopes

Sometimes,
I ask like a child,
Or out of audacity,
about what I wrote

Like the pegged ones
on the clothesline ask:
Can't you see?
I flutter so well.
Can you fly me
like a kite tomorrow?


~ May 19, 2021

Life in a Summer Bath

Sometimes,
Life becomes so meaningless
like a bath in deep summer.

You do it
expecting something
that's not even close to pleasure
But all you get is
frustration and regret.

Yet,
You go on.

Eventually,
dawns the ultimate realization:
that one must do their duty
Notwithstanding the outcomes.


~ April 06, 2021

Moonset

Dear crescent
That's setting in the west

Today,
I am like you in certain ways

It's just late evening
You've already retired
Thin, sinking, and fading
Your life's over for the day
You are bleeding to death
And no goodbyes to say

Yet, I am unlike you
In just one way
A hundred more things to do
But if I sat any longer
I felt I would just decay


~ Mar 16, 2021