31 December 2009

On The Night Of The Blue Moon


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.

22 December 2009

Ariana’s Christmas Adventure

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.


“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.

7 December 2009

By The Shadow Of The Moon












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.

29 October 2009

The Canvas Blank

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.

11 October 2009

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.

24 September 2009

The Melody – She Played

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.

14 September 2009

Alone

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.

1 September 2009

The Godsend

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.

27 August 2009

A Legacy of Love

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.

9 August 2009

Another Place, Another Time


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.

29 July 2009

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.

20 July 2009

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

14 July 2009

Echo

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.

5 July 2009

Sara Visits The World Wide Web

(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.

15 June 2009

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


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.

10 June 2009

Part 2 of 3 - The Sounds of Silence


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

2 June 2009

Part 1 of 3 - Bridge Across Eternity


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

28 May 2009

Veiled World

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)

20 May 2009

Waiting

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.

11 May 2009

Illumination














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.

3 May 2009

Pirouette – Legato

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.


23 April 2009

Enigma

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.

19 April 2009

Notes from Jungle Retreat (Masinagudi)

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.

8 April 2009

Adrift at sea ‘til laid at rest

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.

19 March 2009

Shades and Hues

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

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

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.

Notes from the Countryside

The notes swirled softly midst the swish of a broom,
The mynah hopped amongst green paradisio blooms,
My eyes misty, my heart in tune,

And the sun, she kissed our Aymanam rooms.