Mystique Melodies

Homecoming

2012-01-12T23:58:00.000+05:30

Beneath the stars I wandered,

To a place long gone,

To a place my own,

To a place I found

And lost by dawn.

Through desert storms and blizzards,

I wandered on,

In search of dawn,

In a place long gone,

In a place my own.

Until one day by the roadside,

I found the dawn,

After a storm,

Then wandered on

To a place long gone.

Back and forth on that endless road,

Beneath the stars,

Storms to dawn,

Peace I found,

In a place my own.

The Night Before Christmas

2011-12-22T09:53:00.000+05:30

‘Twas the night before Christmas

When we whispered your name,

In hushed tones we spoke

Of the man you became.

-------------------------

The angels they came

A heavenly melody played

To shepherds who watched

Awe in their gaze.

The wise men followed

A star bright as day

To a lowly manger

In a place far away.

The mood was somber

At Herod’s that day

A prophecy threatened

His life and his reign.

A King was born

In a stable filled with hay,

Many moons later

He died for our sakes.

-------------------------

Still, the night before Christmas,

Sweet melodies play

The story of your destiny,

Glory be Thy name.

The Journey – Part IV: Peace and Goodwill

2011-11-25T23:47:00.001+05:30

I surge ahead on a path of clarity,

Form a relationship of fragile parity,

Between twin souls – darkness, light,

Peace and goodwill, the gifts of sight.

The Journey – Part III: Surrender

2011-11-19T23:45:00.001+05:30

I surrender to the storm within,

A force of nature to reckon with,

I surrender while I’m alive still,

Lest I forget both reason and will.

The Journey – Part II: Inner Dream

2011-11-16T23:44:00.001+05:30

I drift on cloudy thoughts and dreams,

On memories that shift at the seams,

I see a void – transient, deep,

Venture in through the fissures of sleep.

The Journey – Part I: Turmoil

2011-11-14T23:43:00.002+05:30

I toss and turn as darkness falls,

No cloaks of comfort to recall,

I toss and turn on stormy seas,

Inner wisdom just out of reach.

Gypsy Moon

2011-10-18T23:23:00.000+05:30

I stand beneath the gypsy moon

Blood red, the tryst

Of ages come.

A nightingale breaks into song

Wistful melody, crimes

Undone.

They came out of a forest dream

Jaguar stealth, scent

On the breeze.

I waited, frozen by the night

Haunted, memories

Float on by.

Just for a heartbeat

The world – it stilled

Lilies bowed

To a higher will.

Beneath the crimson gypsy moon

A snowdrop glistened

Virgin bloom.

Postcards from Krabi

2011-10-05T23:03:00.005+05:30

(Photographs contributed by Poo and Moi)

For more "Notes from Thailand", hop over to Kaotics Workshop.

Reflections of Chaos

2011-09-14T23:26:00.002+05:30

There was a lady named Mystique,

Her persona three shades antique,

When her thoughts went astray

Naught could stand in the way

Of the melody she chose to seek.

Then along came good ole Kaotic,

Up to no-good with her antics,

Her mind it did seek

Mystique’s fragile breach,

Not in the least bit ecclesiastic.

Kaotic led Mystique a merry dance,

Mystique, poor thing, fell into a trance,

The song of intrigue

Induced sheer fatigue,

Passive-aggressive the chant.

-------

There was a lass named Kaotic,

Her persona three shades dramatic,

Into this crazy frame,

Mystique she came,

The melding was rather lunatic.

-------

There is a mirror quite gigantic,

That sits in a little old attic,

Mystique, she blinks

When Kaotic winks

I, me, looking glass – cathartic!

-------

Helpful Note: "Mystique" figured it was time she joined "Kaotic’s" limerick-ish band wagon! ;-)

Memories of Masinagudi

2011-08-26T23:44:00.001+05:30

How strange that nature does not knock, and yet does not intrude.
-Emily Dickinson

Mudumalai:


Forest of Dreams

Masinagudi:


From a distance: Blue Mountain Magic


Fair is Fowl and Fowl is fair!!!


Cacti Obsession

Forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the winds long to play with your hair.

- Kahlil Gibran

For more of the written word (Yeah,yeah, it's about the weekend spent in Masinagudi.), hop over to Kaotic's Workshop.

(The after-party speech: I'd like to thank Cousins Teena and Anitha for their contribution towards these visual memories. )

Tomorrow

2011-07-03T15:16:00.000+05:30

As evening falls,

The shadows long,
I step outside,

Forget my pride,

The wind in my face,

Sand in my eyes.

No turning back,

I stay on track,

Empty my mind,

Of the bitter kind,

The spray hits my face,

Sand stings my eye.

I tarry on,

A burdened song,

The cross I bear,

Too heavy to share,

The rain soaks my skin,

As I wither within.

Then the dawn breaks,

Forgives my mistakes,

I step outside,

Head held high,

The sun in my eyes,

My teardrops – dry.

A Sense Of Eden

2011-06-07T18:29:00.001+05:30

Velveteen the touch,

Slithery as a snake,

Soft

Not

Ecstasy - pain.

Autumn leaves falling,

Colours of the wind,

Vivid

Yes

Silhouette – dim.

Desert winds blowing,

Sandpaper on skin,

Rough

Not

Courage - within.

Molten ice and fire,

Satin ribbons undulate,

Sated

Yes

Eternal – flame.

(Artist: Gayatri Aditya)

On The Night Of The Dark Moon

2011-05-07T18:17:00.000+05:30

ONCE UPON A TIME

Neela wandered the lonely streets in vain on that fateful summer night. Her twin was home burning with the fever that had killed so many over the last few weeks. The sour stench of death permeated the house as the fever ate its way into her brain and frail body. Neela knew she had to save her for she couldn’t envision life without her twin. She ran as fast as her little legs could carry her only to find herself lost in the labyrinth of alleyways and passages that was the town. It was a no moon night and the light from the lone house across the street did nothing to help assuage the rising bubble of fear and panic that was forming inside of her. They came out of nowhere. They were called the shadow dogs. They were the forces of dark and light, the forces of death and rebirth, the forces she had come in search of.

The townsfolk found her the next morning, curled in a foetal position, a smile on her stiff lips and a dried tear drop on her soft, smooth cheek.

THE PRESENT

The desert heat rose up to hit her in the face as she ran as fast as she could across the scorching sand. The shadows stretched, tall and long, and the black dogs, or shadow dogs as they were called, closed in on her. Finally, her weary legs gave up on her and she turned around to look into the menacing jaws of death.

I sat hunched over on my bed trying in vain to keep my droopy eyelids open for I knew I’d dream ‘the dream’ again. For the past so many months, on the first night of the dark moon I’d feel it creep up on me and no matter what I tried the end was always the same. I’d wake up shivering and sweating, lost in the land between dreams and reality. Tonight was going to be different though, of that I was determined. Tonight I would look death in the eye and I would live. As absurd as it all sounded I knew it to be the truth of sorts, for it was about time I conquered the dream.

They came out of nowhere. They were called the shadow dogs. She ran across the desert sands, as fast as her legs would carry her. The faster she ran the harder they chased, until finally, at that point where the shadows end and the darkness closes in, she gave up and turned around to face her tormentors. The darkness deepened until the shadows disappeared. Through the tunnels of time she saw her twin, the twin who had died so she could live. The same twin was now begging her not to squander her life away. “I didn’t die so you could throw your life away, now did I?” her twin asked. “No, you didn’t,” she replied. “Then turn around and find your inner light,” whispered her twin.

I woke up with a smile on my lips and a dried tear drop on my cheek. Had the dream visited me last night? Maybe it had, and then again, maybe not. For once I couldn’t remember a thing. What I did know was that I felt whole again. That empty, restless hole in my soul felt renewed and at peace. I had found myself again.

Homeward Bound

2011-05-04T23:05:00.002+05:30

Who cares for the smell of coffee
When there’s a forest to be seen,
Potted plants and balconies
Pretty yes; not my dream.

A canvas bold with colours new,

Pink, purple, orange and yellow hues,
Peacock, deer and elephants true,
Spot their dots and backsides too.

The wilderness calls out to me

Or is it home I really see?
For winding forest-paths and trees
Take me home; my heart, my dream.

A canvas filled with earthy tones,

Bare trees, dry grass and watering holes,
The lone gaur stares as I pass by,
The elephant watches as I sigh.

For the lack of coffee I won’t swear,

Even when the forest’s bare,
For blue-grey skies and cloudy eyes,
Take me home on the wings of time.

The Restless Spirit - Part 3 of 3

2011-04-21T23:20:00.000+05:30

REDEMPTION

Flames engulfed her,

Mortal sin

Scorched her soul,

Cleansing still,

Purifying,

Forgiving

Flame,

Lost no more,

Peace regained.

(Artist: C. Smriti)

The Restless Spirit - Part 2 of 3

2011-04-16T16:31:00.000+05:30

INNER VOICE

The void it opened,

Sudden – killed

The stranglehold,

Her Master’s will,

Reached up,

Reached in,

Silent – still,

In the heart of the ocean,

The sun filtered in.

(Artist: C. Smriti)

The Restless Spirit - Part 1 of 3

2011-04-15T23:37:00.000+05:30

WANDERING

She wandered lonely,

Aimlessly in

A familiar world,

Distant - still,

On and on,

No hope,

No will,

Lost in the wilderness,

Looking within.

(Artist: C. Smriti)

The Ghost Of Yesterday

2011-04-04T21:54:00.000+05:30

Driving through the streets one night,

I felt a shiver run down my spine,
Looked out the window,
Felt your laugh
Mock at my image – bold, not right.

Bantered on with the friend by my side,
Shriveled inside – dried leaf on ice,
Looked out the window,
Smiling wide,
Across the street – you paused, I died.

Death and the rest but a dramatic sigh,
The story not quite yours but mine,
Looked out the window
Into your cruel smile,
As our eyes locked; re-lived the lie.

Driving through the streets that night,
I lost direction, peace of mind,
Looked out the window
One last time,
Shrugged off the ghost – returned to light.

The Initiate

2011-03-15T22:05:00.000+05:30

Artist: C. Smriti

Into the unknown,
Hesitant - she stepped.

Engulfed by flames,
Her aura - leapt.

Two became one,
Once more – herself.

Author's Note: First came the picture, then came verse. Thanks for the inspiration, Smriti.

Athena

2011-03-06T00:08:00.002+05:30

Here’s a story I dug up from the 1990’s. Ah, I’m not going to tell you if it’s the first half or the latter half of the decade. :-) I was reading "Sepulchre" by Kate Mosse when I was reminded of it. That’s another story in itself (The details have been posted on Kaotic’s Worskhop)! The point is, I leapt up and dug the story out from an old black trunk…..Bloody poppycock, I just walked up to my book shelf and pulled out my precious black diary; the one that's filled with stories and poems that were written before the birth of this blog. It’s the same diary I keep threatening to "will" my Mum and sis as it gives me great pleasure to hear the horror in their voices each time I bring it up. Just so we’re clear, the ‘horror’ has nothing to do with my death. So much for familial love. Hmph! Anyway, I thought I'd share the story with you for laughs. Here goes.
---------

ATHENA

Misty water-coloured memories came flowing back as I gazed across the deep blue waters of Lake Ethereal. Sitting here in the midst of nature’s beauty it seemed impossible that just five years ago tragedy had struck right here in this peaceful country side.
-------

The sounds of music and laughter mingled with the warm afternoon air as Athena and the rest of us at home cleaned and decorated the house to celebrate Athena’s eighteenth birthday. Athena, one year my senior was a striking beauty.

As the guests began arriving I realized with a start that Athena was not around. Not finding her in the house I ran out into the twilight until I found myself in the gardens of “The Haunted House”. It was not really haunted but being ancient and unoccupied, we, as children, had named it thus.

As I was about to turn around I heard a thin, long wail. The sound seemed to come from within the walls of the house. Shaking it off as my wild imagination I decided to leave when something made me look up at one of the windows. There, framed against the glass, smiling sweetly down at me, was Athena. Then before my very eyes she disappeared.

"Athena," I screamed, “where are you?” Only the mocking silence answered me. I was sure it was her. That tall, willowy figure and lovely auburn hair could only belong to her. Gathering all the courage I could muster I walked very slowly towards the house. The big oak door creaked open with a lot of difficulty. The house was devoid of furniture and the cobweb-carpeted wooden floorboards creaked painfully beneath my slender form.

Just when I was beginning to think that everything had been a figment of my imagination that same thin wail filled the room. I froze for a second as a door opposite me opened slowly before running blindly out the front door. I kept running until I found myself falling – falling – deep down into a strange, dark land.

I opened my heavy eye lids sometime later and heard someone say that I was alive.Confused, I sat up slowly and saw that I was lying at the edge of the waters of Lake Ethereal. Looking around vaguely I noticed a small group of people standing a little way away. Walking in a daze I pushed past them only to stop with a jolt. There, lying on the ground was, “Athena.” Unable to withstand the shock I fell down in a faint.

Days later I heard the story concerning Athena’s death and my narrow escape from the jaws of death. According to a witness, I had come flying out of the grounds of The Haunted House as though the devil himself had been chasing me. I headed straight to the lake and jumped in. Athena, who had been sitting on the grassy banks of the lake jumped in after me without a moment’s hesitation. Dear Athena who had never learnt to swim because of her fear of large expanses of water had jumped in to save me, her sister. Our witness to all these happenings plunged in after us. She had brought me ashore first as she assumed Athena could swim.

We moved to the city soon after the tragedy. I shared the strange events that took place on that day with Mum. She told me that it must definitely have been a figment of my wild imagination. I was so sure of all I had seen but as the years passed I realized that it must have been my mind playing horrid tricks on me.
------

Now, after five long, painful years I am coming to terms with Athena’s death. It will take even longer to forgive myself – after all, my foolishness had been the cause of my sister’s early demise. How could I have believed in the supernatural?

Sighing, I got up and began walking away. The thought of the hustle and bustle of the city made me turn around to have one last, lingering look at the scenic beauty of the place I was leaving behind.

Standing there beside the water, tall and graceful as always, was Athena.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Author Notes: From the Future

Misty water-coloured memories - Ah yes, the 'Way We Were.'
Athena was a striking beauty - But of course, the heroine must be beautiful!
Auburn hair - There is life beyond "A Woman of Substance' kid, so go find it.

ENTITY

2011-01-31T23:09:00.000+05:30

From beyond the grave you found me,
A melody – lost and lorn,
Your skeletal fingers caressed me,
My life – no more my own.

From beyond the grave you touched me,
Nameless, forgotten soul,
Your lips of moss – brushed me,
A sigh – my last breath whole.

And as the moon glides softly by,
My breath, on wings, the breeze does find,
Dust to dust,
Petals crushed,
The fragrance fresh, once mine - not mine.

From beyond the grave you saved me,
A whisper – tender, true;
Your breath I felt beside me,
As my soul journeyed t’wards the new.

DESTINY

2011-01-05T09:43:00.000+05:30

(Part IV)

Shadow dancing,

Slow and benign,

Lilies gliding,

Death to life,

Breath of insanity,

Former life,

Underbelly of fire,

Tunnel of time,

Mysterious touch,

No moon night,

Kiss of Fate,

Destiny – mine.

(The End)

MOONSHINE

2011-01-01T14:46:00.000+05:30

(Part III)

Orchid bloom

‘Neath the runes of time,

Sliver of moonlight,

Passage to life.

SHADOW MOON

2011-01-01T14:45:00.000+05:30

(Part II)

Blood red roses,

Scattered past,

House of sorrows,

Shadows cast.

SUNRISE

2011-01-01T12:23:00.000+05:30

(Part I )

Baby’s breath,

Cotton clouds and sunshine,

The dance of daisies,

Now yours, now mine.

MERRY CHRISTMAS (X-MAS 2010)

2010-12-20T22:22:00.001+05:30

Here’s to Christmas cheer and you,

To smiles that melt away those blues,

Friendship, love, songs from above,

X’mas hugs from me to you.

MERRY CHRISTMAS.

KO.

More cheer? Here’s Kaotic’s wish for you (Just jump on to the Link Express).

Postcards from Eire - G

2010-11-07T12:49:00.002+05:30

Hello my lil peeps,

(The Cliffs of Moher)

I actually made it to the West Coast of Ireland and to the popular Cliffs of Moher. I’m not sure what I expected to feel when I finally got there, but the Cliffs will always hold a special place in my memory as this spectacular place allowed me to put the pieces of my disintegrating self(thanks to a surprising feeling of loneliness that hit me during the day long, guided bus tour) together in no time.

(Finding Myself: At the Cliffs of Moher)

(Lunch break - Doolin - Bangers and Mash)

The burren, tombs from 5800 year ago, the fairy circle like cave etc were lovely but for some strange reason all that barrenness seemed to seep into my bones leaving me cold and lonely.

(A Tombstone: 5800 years ago)

Then this came along and the spirit of the place whispered to me, reviving my spirits and reminding me of the freedom within. It was a day to remember and in the end, the cliffs were the highlight of my day.

(The Burren: Another View)

I loved my month long holiday in Ireland as it was the perfect mix of family, friends, giggles, sulks and yes, I went to Ireland in the hopes of seeing something of the old Eire and find it I did; in the hills, the green fields, the ocean, the ballet, some of the people, and last but not the least, in that pint of Guinness too. Having said that, I chose cider over Guinness most of the time!

(Not the legendary "sheep-cows" our leprechaun voiced tour guide loved to go on about.)

It’s finally time for me to say goodbye to this wonderful memory. Hope you enjoyed the journey as much as I did, virtual though it was.

(Frank and Lil Ed: Of course I miss you.)

Love and Luck,
K.O.

(The “wordy” details can be found here.)

Postcards from Eire - F

2010-11-07T12:44:00.000+05:30

Memories,

Like the corners of my mind,

Misty water coloured memories,

Of the way we were.

(The Way We Were - Lyrics)

(Caisleán Nua - I stayed in Newcastle, Co. Wicklow and here's what it was named after!)

(A castle of another kind- Malahide Castle; I did not meet the 4 resident ghosts.)

(Cloud Cover - Outside Malahide Castle)

(Oscar, I close to died for you for this. Yeah, I almost stepped off the pavement and under a bus trying to snap this picture!)

(We're the Vikings; hear us roar! The Viking Tour around Dublin was fun too.)

(Galway)

(St. Stephen's Green - Dublin)

(Almost Eden: The Mount Usher Gardens in Ashford, Co. Wicklow)

(The “wordy” details can be found here.)

Postcards from Eire - E

2010-11-05T11:25:00.000+05:30

The Magic of Connemara

It was one of those grey days but that didn't stop me from hopping on to a bus to check out the beauty of a place I'd heard so much about.

The drive from Galway city to Clifden was worth it in itself. The scenery was stark, wild and breathtaking. I also loved the fact that there were hardly any of us on that bus, something rare if you come from my neck of the woods - India!

More than an hour later I walked in to Walsh's Bakery and Coffee Shop which was the first thing I spotted when I hopped off the bus.

Breakfast was hurried as I wanted to hit the road and walk aimlessly on forever, which is exactly what I did.

I chose to walk on The Beach Road first but after a while I realised that I'd prefer the heavens.

And so it was that I walked for hours on end on what was aptly named The Sky Road, soaking in the sights and scenery. It was just "I, me, myself" and nature most of the time. I could have gone on forever but the threat of a downpour finally got me to turn around and walk back towards civilization.

(In the Beginning)

(These made me feel I was a part of 'Jack and The Beanstalk' Land)

(Kiss me Ass: A Donkey's Tale)

(Once upon a time)

(The ole stone wall)

The skies opened within minutes of my entering Walsh's Coffee Shop but the tea, bangers and mash, my book and the odd conversation with an Aussie bloke kept me content, happy and protected from the wind and rain for a good amount of time. I would know; my umbrella almost did a Mary Poppins on me the moment I stepped out of the place to get on the bus back to Galway City - Almost.

Ah, happy memories indeed.

(The “wordy” details can be found here.)

Postcards from Eire - D

2010-11-01T20:58:00.000+05:30

Dearest Ash,

This spot here is Newcastle Beach and I knew I’d be back in solitary splendour the first time I came here.

I was with my folks at the time and after looking amused at my Mum collecting pebbles, I kept four aside for myself like it was magic beans or something!

Like I’d predicted, I did come back and it was one helluva windy day. Of course, that only added to the charm and I walked for what seemed like miles before I found a solitary spot on what was already a pretty solitary beach.

Not the greatest of ideas as I was reading a thriller and my imagination would run wild every time I sensed a jogger nearing my corner of the world. I survived as you can see and to be honest, none the wiser for it.

Love always,
KO.

(The “wordy” details can be found here.)

A Million Little Pieces

2010-10-19T18:21:00.001+05:30

Fragments cold

Stories old

Tainted snowdrops; frozen teardrops

Stories cold

Fragments old.

Broken pottery

Unspoken mysteries

Splintered footprints; bloodied fingerprints

Mysteries unspoken

Pottery broken.

Dusty floors

Unhinged doors

Withered leaves; insidious disease

Unhinged doors

Dusty floors.

Moonbeam river

Sunlight quiver

Caterpillar to butterfly; healing touch – Giver of Life

Moonbeam quiver

Sunlight river.

Postcards from Eire - C

2010-10-11T22:57:00.000+05:30

Hey Seige,

This is heaven. I’m at Sandy Cove and it’s a lovely day; blue skies and sunshine. I did walk the length of the beach if you must know. Started down the middle and went to the James Joyce Tower end of things and then headed back to the Dun Laoghaire side of the pier.

I found my spot around here.

I look out at the water and think of you since that’s where you would be if you were here. Takes me back to our holiday in Goa and the water ballet scene that played out there!:D Well, this is me, so I guess you won’t be surprised to find me sitting on the waterfront, reading my book, gazing dreamily at the water, fascinated by the odd seagull, and all the while - the music, it just keeps playing in my head.

KO.

~~~~~~~~~~

Diva,

After a whole lot of walking and hours of reading I headed off to Salthill/Monkstown to meet up with my sis. I walked a whole lot and no, I did not get lost, as this time around I asked for directions unlike that time I confidently ‘turned right’ well aware of my terrible sense of direction. I almost made it; almost! At that last turn my brain froze and I just about lost it before recovering my sense of balance and calm. All in good time too. My sis might have burst a blood vessel if I’d gone on “mind-blank-mode” a minute longer. Older and wiser, eh!?! ;-)

Well, I know you’d have hated all that walking which is why I'm sending you a snapshot of Brittas Bay instead, where all I did was sit around(See, your kind of thing!), moving my butt only to have a look at my first jelly fish. The lazy end to a lazy day spent watching a bunch of movies which just might explain my rather brain dead state of mind.

KO.

(The “wordy” details can be found here.)

Postcards from Eire - B

2010-08-17T23:40:00.002+05:30

Dearest Mountain Goat(aka Poo),

You’ve got to get to Ireland and Glendalough at that. The panorama is simply breathtaking and I'd like to believe that it was the reason I vaguely resembled the living dead on the way up that mountain. You'd have been in your element and would have had a chance to run wild with your tribe - the mountain goats, ofcourse!

Up, up and up we went,

Dead, dead, dead and bent,

Flat land spotted - no time for tears,

(The ruins of the ole mining settlement)

Alive again and ready for beer!

Here’s one last picture of the Black Lake (Eh, yeah, that's what I call it.). The original Black Lake was a figment of my imagination(I actually wrote a short story about it!) and this lake here is as real as it gets for me.

Isn't it loverly? Loverly. Loverly. *sing until the light begins to fade*

Au revoir, my fair lady.

KO.

(The “wordy” details can be found here.)

Postcards from Eire - A

2010-08-10T21:19:00.001+05:30

When I went away on a month’s holiday to Ireland a lot of people expected me to be writing Odes by the dozen. That didn’t happen as I don’t think I’d have been able to do the place poetic justice. In the end I let the story unfold by rambling on about it to my Diary at Kaotic’s Workshop and to add life to the words I figured I’d let Ireland speak for itself through visuals on this page via the series “Postcards from Eire.”

I hope you enjoy it(Hey, as my loyal buddy you had better pretend to enjoy all of this! Friend or foe, you decide!:p).

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

Dear Smriti,

I’m at the James Joyce Tower right now and I keep thinking about you as the book Ulysses is one of your favourites.

This one’s for you.

(The First Edition of Ulysses - 1922)

(A letter from James Joyce to Nora Barnacle, written from the Tower on 10 September 1904.)

My favourite bit was this. Don’t ask!

On top of the world as you can see and that flag has me feeling I’ve just won a battle. Well, I’m battling the wind, allright. I know the picture says otherwise, so you’ll just have to trust me on this one. The wind was so strong that I’m surprised I didn’t find myself adrift at sea, watery grave et al.

KO.

P.S. I walked right past one of those nudist beaches and never noticed it. Talk about literary focus!? Yeah right, more like my regular “horse-with-blinkers-on” walk!

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

Vee love,

No prizes for guessing where I am today. It was just so surreal to find myself at Trinity College. I still find it hard to believe but as unbelievable as it was I have no intention of studying some more, so pack that hope away RIGHT NOW. :-)

It goes without saying that I enjoyed checking out the Book of Kells and guess what the exhibition going on at The Long Room(Notice the familiarity with which I speak. :D) happened to be about when we visited? It was about the Irish in India. Some coincidence that.

Kavya.

(The “wordy” details can be found here.)

Road to Nowhere

2010-06-21T19:55:00.001+05:30

A sunshine smile that lights up the room,
In my dreams – filters through,
Eyes that seem to see the real me,
In reality – a distant dream.

The tango now a dance of flight,
I walk along the boulevard of night,
Sit by my lonely fireside,
In search of my lost inner smile.

A teardrop glimmers on wings of hope,
A fragile faith that helps me cope,
With broken dreams and shadows unknown,
A little stardust on cobbled stone.

I’m walking down the road to nowhere,
In search of a dream I believe in - rare,
One last glance at the road gone by,
If I see you tomorrow, oh heart, I will smile.

For tomorrow may never be mine to share,
With you whose eyes promise nothing – bare,
Yet like dreams that weave a magic spell,
Your smile, it melts the ice and shell.

I’m still walking down that road to nowhere,
Not sure of what or whom I’ll find there,
Stop for a moment, forget my pride,
Memories of a smile – teary eyed.

I’m dancing away from a distant dream,
Not lost - just gone before it was seen,
If I might have just one last sigh;
May I, your smile, wrap up and cry?

The Story Of You and Me

2010-04-11T23:50:00.001+05:30

This is the story of you and me

A moment in time

Fleeting

Glimpse

A story of chance encounters

Windows and Doors

Open

Closed

A story of friends and lovers

Rainbows and Rain

Promises

Broken.

-------------------------------------------

This was the story of you and me

Lost moments in time

Maybe

Never

A story of chance encounters

Hallways and Mirrors

Strangers

Blind

A story of friends and lovers

Soul mates forever

Fantasy

Mine.

Broken Wings

2010-04-06T20:29:00.000+05:30

The dead wood slowly drifted
Towards the sandy shores,
Her journey having lifted
Rotten scars embedded in her soul.

The white sands softly shifted,
Protected and warmed her core,
The weeds now dry and wilted,
Snow white roses began to grow.

The sun he finally found her,
Shy amidst the bloom,
He kissed her tenderly – left her,
With a smile and a dreamy tune.

By night, the rose she blossomed,
Became one with the moon,
Her fragile wings – they opened,
She flew to heights anew.

The eclipse came as expected,
Earth – she shadowed the moon,
A bit of driftwood nestled,
On her frozen shores - spelling doom.

The sun he found her frozen,
Lost after the alien dawn,
He warmed her till he’d broken,
The ice and her surface – torn.

The moon she glided swiftly,
Powerful, feline, sure,
To the sun through pathways misty,
Alas, he shut the door.

The moon now back in her garden,
Single white rose amongst blood red,
The three fates’ sighs heavy laden,
As they furiously mend the thread.

Liquid Reverie

2010-03-15T09:10:00.000+05:30

Weaves of laughter threaded the air,
Slivers of sunlight warmed with care,
She walked among them, soft and fair,
Touching their colours, yet feeling so bare.

She walked among them in her world – alone,
A silver star in search of colours unknown,
The Fates, they spun her gold, silver and mauve,
Blinded by grey, she shivered in sunlight – cold.

Her footsteps reached the white sands of lore,
Burned her numb soul till her heart beat once more,
Soft brown eyes captured her reflection - pure,
Her colours glowed through the mists of new shores.

The laughter floated on a song through the air,
The sunlight danced – a whirling dervish with no care,
Gold and silver entwined with mauve - rare,
No longer alone, but a part of the dream she dared.

And Never Let Me Go

2010-03-08T15:52:00.000+05:30

Fragrance brief like azaleas fair,
Misty moments, whispers shared,
Morning glory, radiant tale,
Dew drop wonder, forever ensnared.

Sparkling streams to rivers deep,
Entangled net, escape too steep,
Through the sands of time, the trail it bleeds,
At the bottom of the lake, the memories keep.

Bound and tied to a memory sweet,
The edges fray, the night guard sleeps,
Empty eyes, tears denied,
I wake one day, no laugh, no cry.

Fragrance new of lilies fair,
Tentative moments, lifetimes shared,
Twilight glow, soft, yet bare,
Moonlight magic, fleeting, rare.

The Return to Innocence

2010-02-24T16:19:00.001+05:30

I dream, the dreamer’s dream,
I soar, to heights unknown,
I feel the water’s close,
Rise above – submerge my soul.

I leap, my final leap,
I touch, the heavens above,
I glimpse, the glory days,
Return now – my watery grave.

The Ghost – Of a Memory

2010-02-23T09:21:00.000+05:30

To you, who promised nothing,
I give my hand,
The kiss of peace,
To have and to hold,
Then forever let go.

Silent breeze,
Frosted glass,
Imprints on sand,
Invisible moment
Forever gone.

To me, who promised to let go,
Misty teardrop,
Rainbows sweet,
Concrete seal
On a forgotten memory.

Let Love

2010-01-09T21:08:00.004+05:30

In the forests of my dreams,
Love - she found me.

Muted dread and silent steel,
No matter - she held me.

Let her in, let her out,
Forget her? Oh, I could not.
And so I let the silence speak,
Held my tongue - wise indeed.

In the mirror of my dreams,
Love - I found her.

With steady hands and new belief,
As one - We found me.

[You'll find the inspiration behind this poem at Kaotic's Workshop]

Shadows of Dawn

2010-01-08T19:34:00.001+05:30

Albatross death,
Shadows and sweat,
Dagger hold still,
O’er my heart if you will.

Willing prey,
Bloody game,
Open wound bleed,
The poison runs deep.

Water's edge,
Stony ledge,
Shattering pain,
Moonlight and rain.

Cut glass sorrow,
Window to tomorrow,
Stained glass dreams,
Rainbows over streams.

Ribbons of truth,
Shred to bits - me and you,
Seashells - white,
Breath of life - soft light.

On The Night Of The Blue Moon

2009-12-31T12:16:00.001+05:30

Scented candles,
Lavender dreams,
Reflections of purity,
Haunting truth - reveal.

Lily of the Valley,
Corals - heal,
Web of innocence,
Hasten thy weave.

Orchid touch,
Song of the heart,
Split wide open,
Brand new start.

Path of light,
By the moon - this night,
Talisman - silver,
Restoration of sight.

Blue moon - Thine,
Silver glint - Mine,
Abstract echo,
Gold star - Divine.

Ariana’s Christmas Adventure

2009-12-22T21:02:00.006+05:30

It was Christmas Eve, and little Ariana waited expectantly by the bedroom window. A short while later she went to bed hoping that Santa had received her letter, and would grant her dearest wish.

Just as she was about to close her eyes, she heard a sweet voice singing Silent Night. When she looked up at the window she saw Sandy the elf smiling sweetly down at her.

Wow! Her wish had come true. Sandy the elf from the bedtime story book had come to visit her.“Ariana,” said Sandy, “it’s time for us to go on our Christmas adventure.” They flew out of the window and into the starry sky.

“Merry Christmas, Ariana,” called out Aladdin and his lovely princess as they flew by on their magic carpet.

They flew out of the night, and into a room full of books and a big piano. It was Sandy the elf’s house, and her fairy friends played “Rudolf the red-nosed reindeer” for Ariana.

Sandy then took Ariana to the ocean. Ariana saw many fish. She also went to the Little Mermaid’s crystal palace. The little mermaid showed them around the palace, and taught Ariana a special dance.

They visited Cinderella next, who looked beautiful in her pink and white ball gown. Cinderella asked them to stay on at her palace for Christmas, but Sandy the elf said that they had to visit other people too. So they flew on to meet their other friends in fairyland.

Ariana met Tom Thumb and played with his pet dog, Penelope. Penelope was the tiniest dog Ariana had seen in her whole life.

Ariana also played with Little Jack Horner who pulled out a plum with his thumb, from his Christmas pie.

“Ariana, it’s time to go back home,” said Sandy the elf, “but before we do, we will visit one last person - a very important person.”

And so, they stopped one last time before they went home. This time they visited the little baby Jesus.

(Courtesy: http://www.freefoto.com/preview/90-04-50?ffid=90-04-50&k=Nativity+Scene)

“Merry Christmas, Ariana.” Ariana got up with a start. It was Christmas morning and she was home. She smiled happily as she remembered her Christmas adventure, or had it been a dream? No, it hadn’t been a dream, Ariana was sure of that. Still thinking about her adventure, Ariana put her hand under her pillow. Her eyes widened as she read the card she found under her pillow. The card was from her friend Sandy the elf.

Ariana jumped up and down with joy. This was the happiest day of her life, as her dearest Christmas wish had come true.

Merry Christmas Everyone!

You'll find the 'grown-up' kind of X'mas wish at 'Kaotic's Workshop.'

All Illustrations(with the exception of the Nativity Scene - courtesy FreeFoto.com) courtesy, She Who Was Born on the Fourth of July.

By The Shadow Of The Moon

2009-12-07T19:44:00.004+05:30

The swish of silk,

Reveals porcelain pale,

At the edge of this vision,

A horse with no name.

Stallion – black,

Cryptic game,

Her heart holds steady,

Then meets his gaze.

The glimpse of a fissure,

Reveals endless seas,

Into the heart of this silence,

Wisteria creeps.

Purple blossom,

Distant sigh,

She reaches out,

In a bid to still time.

The shadow of the moon,

Reveals reasons – three,

A gift of revelation,

Or the mirror of a dream?

Horse's neigh,

Silken sway,

The scent of wisteria,

Softly slips away

The golden glow of sunrise,

Reveals the iron and the clay,

Twirls of smoke engulf her,

As she rides into the day.

The Canvas Blank

2009-10-29T19:14:00.003+05:30

Part I
The canvas blank,
Saccharine sweet,
The notes silent,
A heart with no beat.

The colour poured,
It oozed appeal,
The heart now alive,
To the rhythm of the heat.

It pounded and tore,
At the putrid flesh,
Singed the impurity,
Till wings grew afresh.

Eve's garden of Eden,
Without the apple dream,
Late blossoms of spring,
Sparkling new streams.

E'en without the apple,
The serpent - he came,
Slowly and stealthily,
A mist with no name.

The flowers withered,
The streams ran dry,
Winter's cold breath,
Stilled her voice and cry.

The picture now bleak,
Dappled with grey,
Her shriveled wings,
Lost in the fray.

Her voice now a whisper,
Her laughter asleep,
The colours fade softly,
In poignant retreat.

The ghost of her melody,
Wandered the tomb,
The memories timeless,
Forever doomed.

Part II
Should you ever need to find her,
Know the journey's steep,
For that barren terrain of vultures,
Guard its precious secrets for keeps.

When you look beyond forever,
And life beyond her grave,
Fight the thirst and the hunger,
Till night gives way to day.

If you're the kind to puzzle,
On the key to this new dream,
Know that she was yours,
While you were still asleep.

She believed in your colour,
And should you wonder why,
Know that she saw forever,
When she looked deep in your eyes.

Part III
The canvas blank,
You blink in surprise,
Now how do you find,
Your precious prize?

A teardrop falls,
Warm, on to thin ice,
Joining the thread,
Through an invisible crevice.

Teardrop meets teardrop,
The other not quite dry,
The colours meld together,
In a symphony beyond time.

Part IV
Beyond the grave he found her,
Infused colour in her life,
The apple now the centre,
Of their garden of all time.

This time the shades are pastel,
Soft and tender like the light,
Still waters six feet under,
The foundation of new life.

2009-10-11T10:45:00.000+05:30

If Time were my Temple
And Love the revered One,
Would I open the doors for him,
And welcome him as I must?
-----------------------------------
What mortal crime
Did I commit?
That brought me
This impasse?

The drudgery
Of a dried out soul,
Till death
Do us part?
-----------------------------------
A whisper in the moonlight
Soft, melodious, clear,
Asking me to follow
The shadow of her tear.

The spell lingers
In the wake
Of the magical
Memory gone.

Her song playing
In my heart,
The legacy of its
Ghost - lost and lorn.

The Melody – She Played

2009-09-24T22:54:00.000+05:30

Misty tunes in sunshine hues,
Swirling, twirling, zest anew,
The pipes they played,
To molten runes,
And I, I wrote a song brand new.

Withered, shriveled, crushed dry grass,
Sprinkled hope, pink heather and laughs,
The clouds stood still,
Bowing to heaven’s will,
And I, I whispered the words en masse.

Mystic moon in silver haze,
Sedate, sated, the walk of grace,
The harp it played,
To souls amazed,
And I, I sang the song my way.

Alone

2009-09-14T22:36:00.001+05:30

They came and went,
Hurried, slow – the pace,
The laughter spent,
The crying came.

I watched them,
Through his eyes – Alone,
Now they are gone,
His tomb – My own.

The Godsend

2009-09-01T13:08:00.001+05:30

I did not
believe in the hazy shade of winter,
Until one fine summer’s day,
It descended upon my frontier.

They did not
teach me how to combat sorrow,
My sword and shield,
Benumbed by endless horror.

I cannot
walk away from this affliction,
It eats at me,
Boring a hole in my steady diction.

I will not
fight this dormant volcano,
It burns my soul,
Searching for a whiff of hollow.

As I did not,
For they did not,
As I cannot,
For I will not.

I have realised the meaning of summer,
I have fought the battle of tribulation,
I have known the cross of adversity,
I have found the solace I was looking for.

A Legacy of Love

2009-08-27T20:56:00.008+05:30

A Slave to Cupid.....Don Quixote......My darling stranger

If I had been an expert in the art of making silent love, I would not have been so noisy.
Dated “Now”

To you, whom I want to share this story with,

I just had to share my thoughts on a very strange project that I happened to be working on, while on holiday in Coonoor. Since it actually has to do with letters, I feel it’s only right I let you in on it through the written word.

My Mum and Aunt found a whole bunch of letters that my great grand dad and mum had written each other, in a chest in Aymanam. My grand mum (her folks) had held on to them, and on reading some of them the sisters’ felt they had to be preserved a while longer. That’s how I found myself pouring through the letters, dating them and putting them away in order. It’s not so much about the discovery of hidden secrets or a story untold, but the wonderful insight into their relationship. I’d heard that they were a very loving and interesting couple, but to read the letters is to really know them.

There I was, softly treading the path that two young lovers took, discovering life and each other way back in 1915 till about 1918 or so. It’s really amazing to read those letters, as they had the kind of relationship that a lot of people don’t ever experience. Two strangers, married at the tender ages of 13 and 18, and separated a lot over the first so many years of their married lives, as one had to focus on finishing his studies and get his career going. Despite the various hurdles, they seem to have found a way to keep themselves going while apart. Yes, through letters, and what letters they were. They really, really, talked to each other. You can feel the tears, hear the laughter, be a part of the literary and legal discussions, and blush in wonder at the passion that flows between them.

My great grand dad seems to have been a very forward thinking and open individual, and my great grand mum was a woman with a mind of her own apart from being the loving person that she was. She seems to have been a woman whose actions spoke far more for her, than did her words. You get to know a lot more about her through his letters. I actually felt guilty when I stumbled across some of the letters which were very intimate! At times I wasn’t too sure if I was reading a novel, especially when I read things like “you woke me up with kisses” etc. I felt like applauding her and saying, "you go girl!" He, on the other hand has me amused and laughing at the same time with his eloquent expressions of love. He quotes Burns, Shakespeare and the rest of them with aplomb. She was one of those who believed and knew that some of her dreams were important, and needed to be understood in the context of her reality. What I loved about this part was that her husband never mocked her, but tried to make sense of them. He encouraged her to read a lot, and the beginnings of the classics collection we have in Aymanam started here. They even read poems together. It’s not so much the poetry or literature that touches me, but the fact that they did things together as well as individually. It was a very real marriage in the sense of the ups and downs, and what I noticed in this “All’s well that ends well” story, was that the two of them worked hard at the relationship, and ego did not play a role. What can I say, friends, lovers, companions all rolled into one life long enriching experience.

I think it’s time for me to leave them alone, happy in the knowledge that their legacy lives on.

So long.
Kavita.
A novelist of great reputation has expressed the idea that when that mysterious link arises between two lovers, the most trifling incident seems to have a unique importance to their eyes – Then I had no idea how accurate this sentiment was. But the best school, the school of experience has now taught me that this is a veritable truth.
Author’s note: The phrases and sentences in “Bold type” have been copied verbatim from my great grand dad’s letters.

Another Place, Another Time

2009-08-09T21:36:00.004+05:30

Will you wait a moment please?
I’ve heard your voice before,
Birdsong on a fresh spring day,
Echoes of a bloom long gone.

Fair lass don’t turn your back on me,
I’ve held that flaxen hair,
Spun gold with summer’s fragrant breeze,
The sunrise of my days.

Now look at me with those eyes so blue,
I’ve gazed into their depths,
Sky blue oceans, midnight lights,
I loved them till I bled.

You do not hear my heartfelt cry,
A fleeting look, then pass me by.
My soul remembers, memories,
Another place, another time.

2009-07-29T09:14:00.000+05:30

The lone wolf
Is my partner,
In the wilderness
Of the night.

The thrush
My little songbird,
Forever
By my side.

Yet as the day
Turns into night,
I feel
A presence-new.

A haunting
Melody of night,
Fraught with
Stealthy danger-you.

For loneliness
Is my fortress,
And the wilderness
My home.

My little songbird
The felicity
And fortitude
Of my poem.

As I walk away
From the murky night,
Bidding farewell
To my friends.

Your spider fingers
Caress my back,
The shadow
Of the end.

2009-07-20T14:47:00.000+05:30

One step in time,
Closer the guillotine,
Misty morns and chimes,
Bittersweet the crime.

Echo

2009-07-14T22:44:00.000+05:30

The boat lay abandoned
at the water’s edge,
No man’s land,
Dangerous - beautiful end.

Yet when the moon
comes out to play,
She walks again,
The melody - alluring pain.

Sara Visits The World Wide Web

2009-07-05T00:00:00.004+05:30

(Happy Birthday Meenakshi - It's Story Time)

“Once upon a time…” Now isn’t that how all stories begin? Well, I’m going to be different, and this is my story. My name is Sara, and I’m five-years-old.

Last Tuesday, I was alone in the room which I shared with my sister Diya when I heard voices. Was it my imagination? I stood still in the middle of the room and listened carefully. Yes, there it was again - a babble of excited, tiny voices from the far corner of the room, near the computer.

I walked slowly towards the computer. Diya does not like me meddling with it, but the voices were there. I inched closer, and leaned towards the computer. Voila, there were the voices, only louder and clearer now. They were inside the computer speakers. This was strange as the computer was off. Curiosity got the better of my fear, and I stuck my ear to the speaker.

The next second, I jumped out of my skin, for I heard a little girl say, “Sara, come visit us.”
“Who are you?” I asked.
“Oh, I’m Felicity your computer fairy, and my friends are here with me.”
“How?” said I.
“Just touch the speaker with your right hand and say:
‘Oh world wide web,
Wrap your wires around my head,
Take me by my human hand,
And let me play in your electronic band’” said Felicity.

Wow, where was I? My eyes were round with wonder as I looked around the new world I was in. “You’re in the computer with us,” said a pretty little girl with delicate silver wings. That was Felicity, my very own computer fairy, and new friend.
The computer world was very different from Earth. We walked on beams of neon green light. The world was a maze of corridors, and the walls of these corridors had designs like spider webs on them. These webs were made of different coloured beams like blue, yellow, red, orange and many more. If you touched the centre of the web with your hand, you would enter a room. Felicity told me that every room was different.
As I loved chocolates, we went through the blue web first. There were chocolate machines of all shapes and sizes in it. There were many fairies in there too. “Everyone loves chocolate,” said Felicity. We went to a machine that looked like a tree. Each branch made a different type of chocolate. I had a chocolate shaped like a butterfly with jam in the middle. It was delicious.

We then went through the red web to the ice-cream room. Felicity took me to the surprise bowl. Here the colour of the ice-cream would be different from its taste. I picked an orange ice-cream that tasted like apples. Felicity had the purple ice-cream that tasted like strawberry.
Felicity then took me to meet some of her friends. I met Elsie the elf who lived in a red and white toadstool. We also visited Freddie the frog and Pink the bunny rabbit. Felicity said she’d take me to one last place as I’d been here for a long time already. Yippee, we were going to the library.On the way, I noticed that certain corridors had doors made of rainbow-coloured beams. Felicity told me that these were the doors to different countries. I was really excited, and I wanted to go there too, but there was no time. My Mum would realize that I was missing, if I was away for too long.

We walked on to the library. It was very big. Felicity took me to a doll house that read you bedtime stories. She made me lie down on a feather bed and close my eyes. While Felicity held my hand, the house read me the story of Cinderella.

“Sara, why are you smiling at the computer?” I looked up with a start at Mum. Had I been dreaming? As I got up to leave the room, a small silver wing floated off the computer. I held it in my hand, and smiled my secret smile. My eyes sparkled as I thought of my adventure, and the many more that were to come. The magic rhyme would allow me to visit Felicity at any time. I still had many rooms to visit, and foreign lands to explore. My adventures had just begun. You could always join me on my next adventure.

Illustrations courtesy She Who Was Born on the Fourth of July.

Part 3 of 3 - My Love Will Find Me, Like Night Finds Day

2009-06-15T22:03:00.004+05:30

My love, I follow thee today,
Today, tomorrow, everyday.

At dawn I feel the sunshine new,
By dusk I hope to follow through.

Drifting through time and space – a sea,
Willing my world to drift to thee,
As diamonds glint in the great black night,
The mountains whisper that all will be right,
Drifting through time and space – a dream,
In a state of continuum, I believe I see.

The dawn now subtle in strength renewed,
The dusk my moment of all that’s true.

Today, tomorrow, and everyday,
My love will find me, like night finds day.

(Photograph taken at The Doddamakali Fishing and Nature Camp)
Note: For more, crack the mirror, and check out the other side of the story at Kaotic’s Workshop.

Part 2 of 3 - The Sounds of Silence

2009-06-10T23:01:00.016+05:30

A river runs through it

Reflections of Majesty

A solitary Coracle – Homeward bound

As the sun sets, and birds find their nests,
The river she stills, holds onto her breath,
The crickets chirp - no longer heard,
The hush of the night sky – starlight burst.

(Photographs taken at The Doddamakali Fishing and Nature Camp)
Note: For more, crack the mirror, and check out the other side of the story at Kaotic’s Workshop

Part 1 of 3 - Bridge Across Eternity

2009-06-02T22:36:00.008+05:30

Across that bridge,
The story goes,
A hunter’s maiden
Built her home,
A home that stood
Through storm and rain,
A home that sheltered
All her pain.

Her name forgotten,
Now unknown,
The name of the child,
He called his own.

Across that bridge,
A child now grown,
Looked for her mother,
And a home of old.
Find her she did,
The story goes,
A part of the heavens,
And a river bold.

(Photographs taken at The Doddamakali Fishing and Nature Camp)
Note: For more, crack the mirror, and check out the other side of the story at Kaotic’s Workshop

Veiled World

2009-05-28T10:42:00.001+05:30

In the beginning, there was the Word,
And the Word was with God,
And the Word was God.

Now, I live by the Sword,
And kill with the Word,
In the name of the Lord.

The future, will bring to this world,
The wrath of the Word,
The havoc of God's will.

In the end, God's Word will be heard,
In the heart of this world,
The beginning again.

(The first verse is from The Bible - John 1:1)

Waiting

2009-05-20T17:20:00.001+05:30

Her beauty – wistful,
Sought the wind,
Her mind – wanderer,
Rode the storm,
He waited – beautiful,
By her side,
Her eyes – angelic,
Yet so blind,
Waited in vain – solitary,
For the rider, who never came.

Illumination

2009-05-11T22:16:00.003+05:30

Her widow’s peak of bloodline old,
Posed many a question on a story untold,
An allegory from the caves of yore,
Her visage, a shadow of mystic allure.

With time and tide moving from her shores,
She swept up the pieces of an era bygone,
The raging torrents of shadows past,
Now gentle whispers in twilight cast.

Those emerald pools of depths unknown,
Now soft with the shine of a newborn song,
The stranglehold of the turret and cloth,
A transient cloud on the road to dawn.

Moments and memories in a world brand new,
Flitting and floating, beckoning its due,
She danced on fearless, having arrived,
At the gates of freedom – undulating tide.

Pirouette – Legato

2009-05-03T15:29:00.004+05:30

Show me a grain of sand,
And I’ll tell you its story.

Bring me an eyelash,
And I’ll make you a wish.

Whisper on the wind,
And I’ll play you a song.

Give me a glimpse of your soul,
And I’ll spin you a dream.

A dream for tomorrow,
A song for your sorrows,
A wish for felicity,
A story for life.

But bring me a stone,
And I’ll break your neck.

Or a sooty eyed devil,
Curse you to death.

Scream across time,
I’ll silence your voice.

Your heart without soul,
Paper roses to go.

The stone of my burden,
A lover’s betrayal,
Spectres of the shadow,
Shriveled heart of the dead.

So bring me that sand,
And I’ll create an oasis.
Winged songs will follow,
Whispering dreams of the morrow.

Enigma

2009-04-23T23:13:00.002+05:30

He was to me an enigma,
Fascination from afar,
A stranger no doubt, yet a face so dear,
His presence alone gave me power.

That’s one side of the coin, where with feline grace,
I glide through the trials of life,
The other side to me is a pathway so steep,
For it’s here that the deer in me reigns.

An armour of mettle hides the deer from all eyes,
Eyes that are ruthless and cold,
The deer longs for protection, it’s there in her eyes,
Sadly, Enigma passes her by.

The timid deer runs for its life,
Until with clarity,
She realises that she’s about to die,
As fire surrounds the trees.

Eagle, falcon, phoenix, deer,
Which one of them am I?
The phoenix finally wins this game,
And she rises above the flames.

"Who am I now?", I ask the flames,
Watching from afar.
The forest seems to whisper back,
Enigma is your name.

For when Enigma turned his back on me,
Enigma Became Me.

Notes from Jungle Retreat

2009-04-19T16:33:00.006+05:30

The clearest way into the Universe is through a forest wilderness.

-John Muir (John of the Mountains)

Midst the green of the jungles,
Lies - my watering hole.
A place to wash away my sorrows,
Feed my mind for all the ‘morrows,
A place where peace of mind I find,
In the midst of these quiet times.

I dreamed of mountains green and blue,
Of sandy shores and paths anew,
I dreamed I found the way up high,
To cloudy skies and the bridge of sighs,
I dreamed I belonged to this world so true,
And the tears, they glinted on the morning dew.

Looking back upon this time,
Of friends and family, hugs and smiles,
The feeling of both lost and found,
The feeling that I’m nature bound.
The feeling of just walking on,
A cobbled path of life - my own.
The feeling that I’m homeward bound,
On a journey of what’s true and sound.

Adrift at sea ‘til laid at rest

2009-04-08T12:03:00.001+05:30

Music, soul, voice – mine I cannot find,
Hibernating or lost, within the deep dark night,
So I wander through the woods
Lost in thought and time.

Darkness, sorrow, fear – my mind it cannot lose,
Frozen feelings, forgotten mists, from a land so blue,
So I wander through the woods
Looking for light that gently seeps through.

Laughter, love, life – this I cannot drain,
Out of my fragile shell, no matter the pain,
So I wander through the woods
To commune with the earth – feel again.

Rainbows, starlight, and the morrow – these I finally see,
Beside me and within me, a sunbeam warm and free,
So I wander through the woods
Nurturing the dewy seeds.

Remembrance

2009-03-28T19:58:00.017+05:30

I’d been to Chennai a month or so ago on a short holiday, and had a lovely time with family and friends there. The warmth, love and felicity I experienced during my time there felt like a long season in the sun. To hold onto the memory I thought I’d recreate the feelings through some art by, Gayatri Aditya. This particular series was inspired by the same city and its people, so I think it’s apt to splash the colours of my recent memory, through her kaleidoscope of thought.

When asked to write something about her work for an exhibition, I had the audacity to try and get into her head and write one in the first person. Oh well, friends allow you to get away with murder, I suppose! I am reproducing my review here, as what I saw in this art at the time, is what has eventually led me to link it to the memory of my short holiday in Chennai, and to the people I know there. Here we go folks.

Take a walk along a path, peppered with the shades and hues of this vibrant city – Chennai, a free flowing milieu, rich in its culture and people.

In splashing the sights, sounds and smells of my world across canvas, I’m hoping you,
-Delight in time spent in silent contemplation,
-Hear the waves, over blaring horns of impatient traffic,
-Share the pleasure of the parrot lady, as she bustles around in her tiny tea stall,
-Smell the passion and chaos of the city,
-Catch a fleeting glimpse of the panorama, as you whiz by on a train, and
-Find the possibility of newborn dreams.

Veritatem dies aperit.
Times discovers the truth.
- Seneca(De Ira)

Shades and Hues

2009-03-19T18:17:00.003+05:30

Sapphire, gold and mystic mauve,
Sweep the expanse of my hopes.
What do they mean – these colours galore?
My destiny – as determined before?
I’d like to believe this isn’t so,
For isn’t my life mine to make?
Aren’t my loved ones mine to keep?
Maybe it’s true, but then again,
Isn’t it true that we belong,
To the One Above, who made us all?
I try to understand this irony,
And hope that in this lifetime I,
Might learn to love and live a wholesome life,
Learn to give to the world for all it has given me,
Learn to let go of others for they don’t belong to me,
Yet, before I leave my earthly dome,
I need to spread my wings and fly,
Call it destiny, call it my own,
Happiness and exultation, anguish and pain,
Yet through it all I will always know,
That I am free to mix these colours as I may.

Dark Angel

2009-03-19T18:12:00.001+05:30

I hear an angel call my name,
I follow her voice now filled with pain.
The night is dark,
The passage clear,
And as I feel her drawing near,
I scream in pain,
I scream again,
I am the angel calling my name.

Enchantment – A Rhapsody

2009-03-19T00:41:00.003+05:30

If you gave me a diamond,
Would I believe in you?
Or a pearl of rare delicacy,
Is my fate then sealed with you?

White sands amidst the azure flow,
Grey mists swirling o’er mountain dew,
Four leafed clovers, toadstools true,
Tell the tale of riches few.

Blistering winds and rainy days,
Hailstones, hills and valleys claim,
The beauty of a life in parts,
Glad to be poor for the rest of my days.

Now tell me diamond and pearls so rare,
Are you more precious than this medley - seemingly bare?
If only you knew the wonders that play,
Over and over, in my rhapsody past compare.