Tuesday, June 29, 2010

In High Places.......

Ghatkopar is one of suburban Mumbai's busiest railway stations. In an outstanding display of how national resources are shared on a rainy day , two hitherto urban cows, venture up on the overbridge to experience how it feels to come up in the world.

Photo by Harish Krishnan of Blogadda on his daily commute.







Children
trailing with parents,
dragged to school
across the
Ghatkopar railway
overbridge
on a windy, rainy
actually wonderful day.






This mother,
missing her childhood
meadows,
greens and rivers,
shows the kid
the fun
of looking at
a bovine image
in a
rain puddle
on the bridge....

She hears
an announcement
on
the PA system,
and rubs the
Calf's forehead
indulgently...
the Go-"shala" ****
at Ghatkopar East
has declared a holiday today .....


****Goshala : shelter and residence for cows
"shala" : Marathi for "school"

Friday, June 25, 2010

Answers to your questions.....







The third winner of the Blogadda "What Women want" contest, declared July 2, 2010.

Submitted for the Blogadda "What women want" contest



Tired,
worried,
home again
from back breaking work
in six households
she sits,
feet across the threshold,
pressing her knees
in the light
of a myopic moon.

Wondering about
tomorrow,
hers
and her childrens'....
What did she want,
they asked ....





Independence ?

Yes, from loans and disease,
and
enforced
narrow thinking.....

Love ?

She had it in droves
from her kids
and mother;
there was no one else,
that mattered;
the drink and hit types
were lost to history
and
another geography....
and she liked
her new freedom...

Caring ?

A difficult choice
from
amongst sons
who
learnt how,
twelve to a room,
but had hearts
larger than most;
daughters-in-law
who wondered
at the unusual ma-in-law
who sent them
to complete school;
and the newest
littlest additions,
hell bent
on teaching her
to read their school books....

Indulgence ?
Unmatched ,
as her 80 year old mother
bids her
to sit and enjoy
the hot bhakri and pickle
she's made just for her,
coming in
from a rain soaked
slushy afternoon,
and the grandchildren
rushing in
to snuggle
as she sits leaning
against
the one pucca wall...

Freedom ?
She grabbed it
with both hands
when she escaped
with four kids
from a living hell,
populated
with violence,
lies,
alcohol.
and
another woman...

Freedom Now,
to work,
to earn,
decide how
and where,
how much to spend,
for whom
and how,
freedom to say NO,
freedom
to breathe easy
at times congested,
and
most of all
freedom
to dream.

Like Mumbai,
she has the spirit;
enjoying what she has,
cherishing it.
But dreaming about what could be.

She wants
a permanent job
for the boys,
a sensible match
for her daughter,
once scarred
in a misjudged alliance,
admission
for the grandkids
in a school,
with good teachers
and a better future;
and a hope
that sometime
someday
somewhere,
somehow,
they live together
in harmony
in a house
with
a built-in toilet
they can call their own......

Choices ,
did you say ?
She has slogged
and earned
and shaped
lives,
of those she calls her own
She has taught
them all,
and together,
they choose
and fashion
their simple future....

She looks up
at an
immature moon,
preening from all those
pseudosmart poems,
as she leans back
and rests,
a grandkid
fast asleep on her knees.

"You want to know what I want ?
Come tomorrow,
same time,
same place,
right now,
this little chap might wake up....."



Saturday, June 19, 2010

Timeless flows , Memory banks....






Winner of the Blogadda "Tribute to Dad" contest June 25, 2010.


Submitted for the Blogadda "Tribute to Dad" contest


A deep river
flowing with
a sense of
gratitude and peace,
conscious,
encouraging,
but
non interfering
in the
troubles,
perturbations
and upheavals
on the
buzzing banks.





Protecting
those in boats
bobbing along,
buoyant
for the kids,
nestling and playing
within
the compassionate waves,
with
a glare, for those
insulting
nature's rules....

And
One day,
tired,
slowing down,
hand on my shoulder,
searching my face,
the flowing river
slowly
spread thin
terminally,
before becoming one
with the
endless sea.

Leaving behind
memories
warmly cocooned,
etched deeply
on minds,
enriching
the living plains
and plateaus,
every
glowing moment,
and
not just
on this
windswept,
wet,dreary
torrential
Father's Day.........


Wednesday, June 9, 2010

Sit back and wonder !

Sometimes newly upholstered chairs inspire , and one even imagines a dog, lying behind the chair observing the going ons....

(photo by Sylvia Kirkwood)




Beautifully beige,
the fibers
stretched
to the full
in accomodation,
taking a deep breath,
Ms Chair nudges
the cushion,
itself
just recovered
from a Sylvian clutch,
as the lady sat,
feet on the
beige stool
tapping in beat
to
the Symphony.





"I thought
she'd never get up",
said Ms Chair
as she
looked piteously
at the stool
half hidden
by the shawl.
"The new fibres
are young,
and I need to
breathe a bit"

They
didn't notice
Mojo, ***
quietly listening,
behind the chair,
waiting for Sylvia
to return
with her
cup of coffee....


*** Sylvia's dog

Thursday, June 3, 2010

Delightful Falls....

Inspired by Sylvia's post.

(photo by Sylvia Kirkwood)
Stern
grandfather
mountain visages,
serious in age,
tired in their cracks,
rising up
to the sky
with
breathtaking
craggy faces,
a lifetime of
working,
growing,
battling,
nurturing.





Softened occasionally,
by the cool
green,
alive in the
mountain breeze,
grandmotherly
spaces,
soft,
and flowering
through the ages.

And the little ones ,
come rushing by,
gurgling,
splashing,
jumping over rocks,
with
a breathtaking dive
into the
exciting
ice cold
hotly exciting,
Pool of Life,
below.....