April 30, 2011

Zeitgeist?? # 35, # 36 And # 37 Random Musings For The Day

Is today's "shout out to be heard" world not really for introverts and shrinking wall flowers  ???......



Is a pretty face a prerequisite for a singer or can the voice outshine everything else???
A post on Susan Boyle and her acidic reception on Britain's got Talent on a blog I visited got me thinking.....



Does character assault and bullying start at kindergarten??


April 29, 2011

Yesterdays - At The O.T

Oblivious to all, pain and blood…she lay, her wounds being sutured, her right leg amputated below her knees…a journey, fending off robbers of her gold chain, a fall from a speeding train…and the volleyball player's dream lay shattered on the tracks. Right now, blissfully unaware of the blame game and aspersions cast on her story.





He was dying; he knew it as did the surgeons…..the woman on the plastic chair looked distraught and scared. A freak accident, her fault. Nobody told her, opening the car rear doors in a busy street could cause a biker a bleeding, painful end. She mulled their fate as those moments passed before her eyes.



They held hands, hope in their speaking eyes, prayer on their silent lips….they shared a loss neither regretted; their husbands shared more than a common affliction. They would be sharing theirs spouses kidney swapped. An uncommon exchange, perfect matches among then strangers.  A difficult sacrifice, would theirs better halves have done the same for them?









April 28, 2011

Xanthippe Widow




Image courtesy Claude Renault


She stood in the doorway, a creased face, paan stained red lips and a perpetual frown on the face….


A scowl said that I was standing in her way….She grumbled at "today’s kids" and their lack of traditional values….Funny, she should consider a 30 something one…

My friend was irritated at the stooping old woman as she walked fast for her age, despite her cane.
We made our way to the temple, there she was, the one I bumped into…she reprimanded me for not covering my head… I laughed and informed her that in our community only widows of old wore them that way….
Her eyes watered and she slunk away without taking her evening meal, the free Prasadam offered to the devotees.
 I felt guilty, the price of having a nagging voice in the head that enjoyed lecturing to my discomfort.
Back at the cottage I questioned the caretaker about her as she swept the verandah…
Married off at 12, send to live with her in-laws and absentee husband at 14, widowed at 17, the childless, now, 70 year old thrown out of her marital home a year later for being unlucky…Vrindavan had been her haven for the past five decades…
Doing odd jobs, eating at temples, spending the night at the cottage premises…she had it lucky than many others out in the temple town or other places…
Time and people had made her what she was today….and yet she blamed no one but her bad karma for a life without a husband… ironic that mine was alive and yet not a part of my life anymore and nobody seemed (well who am I kidding) bothered by it.
Life for a poor widow in rural India is often a nightmare…the woman’s life marked by the father, husband and then son…she on her own had no voice, no freedom, no rights, no dreams, no hopes…
Long after I boarded the train back to the safety of my home…her face and her story haunted my thoughts….till today…hopefully, the voice won’t nag me about her anymore….


*Xanthippe : nagging, peevish, ill - tempered woman
 344 words to be made into 500
April 26, 2011

Valiant Spirit

"Akshay" meaning
 'Eternal, immortal, indestructable
 a short post on my nephew  akshay who celebrated his  first birthday last week…he is just one of the thousands of babies born everyday, you might say…but he is special not just because he is my Brother’s kid but because of the fact that he is a fighter to the core…

He was born too early, almost two months before time…a premature baby whose first home after his mother’s comforting womb was the incubator….he was not alone, more than enough company but that doesn’t take away the pain, the fear, the worry, the heartache watching a tiny baby with more tubes than his tender body could hold, more medicines than an adult can withstand….
The thrill of hearing him cry, the joy of seeing the relief on his parents' face when he was certified as healthy enough to be taken home, the satisfaction at seeing him grow slowly, millimetre by millimetre, Grams by grams is something one can only experience…
The picture at the side belies the trauma this sweet angel of ours underwent at a nascent stage of his hopefully long, healthy, happy life. His smile, mischievous ways, tantrums belies the struggles, making them a distant memory best carpeted…
April 25, 2011

Unstable Undetected??




Glances here, there, everywhere


pain, heartache never ending, relentless...






A brewing storm, clutching at ribs,


Dragon's fire - belching bolts


the heart asunder.


 dull eyes, shimmer less gaze,


blank stares, sees no face


tethering on the edge, 


thin line divides


sanity and craze.






Bright lights invisible


to all save one


pulls on, farther away.


mind craves, falters, yields to


the cold caress of light and dark in turn


echoing laughter off the wall, rebounds.






Flowing torrent as sudden as death,


dim recognition fails, gone for now,


 in the blink of an eye.





April 23, 2011

Torturous Days

Life is never straight nor calm, tragic
when he turns on that so called charm
Not a funny bone in the body
and yet speak of comic timing.
 The party is on in full swing
wishing you have a shift to still be in.
The stunned silence isn't quite adulation
the life of this one?, funny thought.
Costume themed? definitely not.
 Bet, you purposely forget.
 Blue velveteen and floppy ears
stands out among jeans and T shirts
This to mock me, I know
Easter bunny stunt pulled out,
just means, "now is time"
to give you the marching lines...


Added To Saturday Centus





April 22, 2011

Silly Story - Cat Tales - 1




He slouched lazily on the loft looking haughtily at the customers, visitors and owners alike . He declared himself almost bored, when he saw her....aah...he thought, straightening up, finally some one to impress and end the day on a  high note. He got up, swished his tail, stretched himself to his magnificient length and wiggled around to rid himself of all the dust and dirt...Walked all the way to the end in a manner that would put ramp models of Paris out of work. He stood at the edge, gazing at the rafter a few feet away with one critical eye, the other on her....yes, her attention was still on him. That's all he needed...he jumped James Bond style (making Sir Sean Connery proud, if only he knew), he would never reveal but for a second before his paws felt solid wood, he was scared shitless. She was watching in awe....and his chest puffed with pride. He stood planning his next stunt to floor her completely, when her attention was diverted to the task at hand. He waited patiently for her to look up but it seemed like he was forgotten. 'Hmmph, I'll show her still', with this thought he jumped without hesitation, over 5 feet to land with a loud thud on cartons near her. She was startled, and turned to her side to find him next to her, a proud stance, a smirk, a look which said, "A perfect shot, won't you say?".  Before she could stage a witty comeback, he leapt of the cartons, slunk away (some would say in his wild cousin cheetah’s style) with a true blue Cheshire grin, never glancing back...Leaving her to rue not taking a picture....but pray, who ventures into the friendly neighbourhood fruit vendor's shop with a digital camera in tow!!!!



(P.S. don't even mention your mighty IPhones & Blackberry's...their picture clarity and quality is nowhere near even the modest of Digi's. )




April 21, 2011

RandomMusings For The Day #33 and #34

If Black is the colour of darkness, why does every woman worth her salt fancy a little black outfit for those "wow" moments.


Why is it, if you do your thing, you are staying true to character.....but if I do my thing, I am an older woman rebelling??


P.S : Thanks to A.M. Trumble at http://www.bttrflyscar.blogspot.com for deeming me worthy of the stylish blogger award. :)

Qué Será, Será - Whatever Will Be, Will Be.....



Makes me ponder...its it really okay to let things in the future be?...be complacent....a Zen like contentment...
Not sure, how would the stories end if the heroes and sidekicks let things drift on their own....
Where would our greatest love stories be if the feuding families adopted this philosophy?...
How different would our world have been if Thomas Edison had adopted this piece of advice and stopped trying?...candle wax on our hair and clothes most likely...not to mention this post wouldn’t have happened!!

On the other hand..it may have its uses...
If Colombus and Amerigo Vespucci hadn’t kept on searching for India in the wrong places, the Aztecs and Incas wouldn’t have literally vanished from the face of Earth.
The nuclear wars wouldn’t be a scary Damocles Sword hovering over our lives....

A simplistic conclusion, not quite ...but sometimes the ruthless pursuit of changing fate or the future leaves a green house planet heading its way to Mars- like barreness.
April 19, 2011

Past And Present

Past -
“Think it’s possible?”
“Frankly Andy,  the skull is too small  to be human.”
“Request Brown to create a new branch. Lucy*  will soon be passe.”


*Lucy as in Hominin of whom only one species - homosapiens (us) survives




Present -
Hammering talks of Pattinson’s hair everywhere
Swear never has anyone else been discussed threadbare.
Can understand a hyper, emotional teen,
But an older  woman screaming, a disturbing scene.
If omelettes were to be his tingle,
A vegan’s wife will soon be single. 


April 18, 2011

Operation - Critiques, Vote Of Thanks, Appreciation


Since Its time for  Saturday Centus, I am saving it for letter O....  I've always loved  lists, And as the assignment demands and hasn't stated otherwise, I am selecting  3 posts(not reviewed yet) randomly  to review....they are works I have read and reread...whew...I would be eating 100 words  for each, most likely 100 + word review for all three... Off we go...
1.   The first by  up in the cosmos @
 

The tears they fall and I wonder why?
It’s almost like my skin’s just too dry.
They stream and flow like rain from the sky.
I feel maybe something’s gone awry.

Outside the snow has come and gone
and all I see is that dirty lawn
but soon all the new growth will spawn
all the while as spring flaunts its brawn.

It’s said April showers bring May flowers.
Do the tears I cry have those same powers?
My cheeks do get rosy after some hours
but I think it’s the salt in them that scours.

It’s a time of renewal, not one of demise.


    The author has chosen to convey in rhyming verse, starting off on a sad melancholic note, using  a powerful metaphor. She speaks of the ending and  arrival of the seasons and the changes brought along.....a reference perhaps to the state of mind and heart that is  accepting and healing....The last verse has the reader ponder on the power of tears to rejuvenate and cleanse the heart and soul....reminding me of Gandalf's words ”not all tears are bad”  
The end sums up the beauty of the philosophical words by leaving a beacon of hope.


The second by Christine
http://aninklingofsorts.blogspot.com/2011/04/question-of-day.html

So I asked my kids:
"what do you think about when you hear, April showers bring May flowers."
 the Reader said, "I think about showers and flowers."
the Helper said, "lying on flowers while it's raining."
the Professor said, "I think about people wearing flowers on their private parts
while taking a shower."
the Artist said, "our really ugly shower curtain."
 Is it that bad?  I guess I need to take a trip to Walmart next week.

This piece uses the conversational style to make the point with a dose of humour added .
It demonstrates the diverse thought process and the association that is unique to each one of us even on a simple, common topic.
The author provides a wonderful example of stereotypes and their expected reactions.
The fact that they were all taking of the same thing, in this case the shower curtain, in subtly different ways is brought out in the end...a master stroke.

The last one by  CJ Schlottman



Arrangements of flowers decorated the house. The date, April 10, 1955, 36 hours since Estelle’s husband died in a car crash.
She and her four children, the youngest two months old, rode to the church in silence. Grandmother smoothed the childrens’ clothes and hair.
At the church, the perfume of the flowers assaulted Estelle’s senses, making her almost swoon, but she was not a woman to swoon. Head high and carrying the baby, she passed the open casket and made the other three look at their dead father. 
“April showers bring May flowers?” She would never enjoy flowers again - never.

This is a moving, succinct tale of a tragic event recollected, as seen from the eyes of one of the children perhaps .
It depicts the strength and will of the recently widowed Estelle as her husband's final journey commences....
The flowers here, are perfectly used to describe her true emotional state beneath the calm exterior.... that she tries to pass on the children.
The author has brought out the story through striking imagery and the final words are creatively used to convey the turning of symbols of joy into reminders of pain.

2.  My vote of thanks to Deirdra at http://astorybookworld.blogspot.com for the Creative blogger award ....
and to Jingle Poetry And Thursday Rally for giving  me a choice of 1 to 5 awards, not being  that greedy, I take the one I feel fits me best....

3. Which reminds me that its time I acknowledge my earliest supporters and daresay “friends” with the  delectable  blog award (my creation) to the Enticing Eight whose wordsman/wordswomanship I enjoy and who browse through patiently all that I spew...You don’t have to display the award if it makes you shy.  ;P 

4.  Well Nonna  Beach@ 

 For reviewing my centus with such honesty and glowing words you get the cool blogger award... !

The awards are displayed here.

April 16, 2011

Nebulous Voices - Haiku 13

The thoughts meander /
Precious memories blaze by /
Distant resonance //



April 15, 2011

Mistake, Honestly

Weary,  delayed flight
grabbed the bag off the shelf
rushed down
against the chilly breeze...
“That’s mine,  a Louis Vuitton!!, here’s yours “
bristled the loud voice on the bus.
All eyes on her,
red faced, muffled a swift apology.
“Don’t fret”,  said his kind voice from her side,
“Must be fake like her accent!!”

  





April 14, 2011

Kafkaesque Love




The starry night,
a red moon crescent,
the rhythm unfolds...
take a step forward
with fresh hope lingering
warily, the distance kept
the tables turned abrupt
 the warrior sizing me up
a cruel smile, a rough tumble,
beaten, retreat into the cocoon.


Now it’s you, stepping
 on the invisible line
pushing, prodding,
in disturbing waves
another piece of my heart
on the floor stomped,
the bright red blood
trickling under your
hob nailed shoes.



Dawn and momentary succour
to gather dense thoughts
find the will to break free
from the obsessed, maniacal
gaze you bestow.



Footfalls of the evening
all in vain
This submission of  mine*
Still could be the death of me*
To the dance floor we take
long ago willingly
often now at your behest.

 Another twirl, another piece broken
till I can leave
without a backward glance.
Until you, someday,
 see me for myself
Our love story not,
nor hints of normalcy,
the makings of a tragedy.

{Written 6 yrs ago, except for the * lines added recently.... :) }





April 12, 2011

Just A Reminder - Yuri Gagarin

 There she was...
after a dizzing burst
into the cold dark space
leaving jet streaks behind...
The enchantress
so blue, even Misha's eyes
paled in comparison
Numero Uno means little
In this void....
Hammering heart
as Home beckons
Nikita seemed happy for once.
What’s with the Babooshka and loaves
When samogonka would make me float.



("babooshka" - grandmother, "samogonka" or "moonshine" - homemade vodka, Nikita Khrushchev - the then Russian President.)




April 11, 2011

Insipid Interview ??



April showers bring May flowers...

The words kept echoing in her mind....nervous to the point of sweaty palms, this wasn’t doing her any  good.
The sheer number of ties and jackets in her peripheral vision sounded the death knell in her guts....what was she thinking, turning up?...the entire city had landed up here, well all graduates from the top colleges at least.
The interview surpassed her expectations, the panel of seven did intimidate her but fumbled across to the finishing line....
Until  asked how soon she could join...blurted out without a second thought, “April”. Blushing at the puzzled faces , realised it was almost September.






April 09, 2011

Hunger Strike - My Take

The occasion called and many rose to it...not all could tamper their schedule to represent...the ones that did, were splendid and articulate...bringing to its knees...an adamant, corrupt serpent of a government was no mean achievement...
They fasted under camera glare...I skipped my dinner in the unseen confines of my den...raised slogans, placards, held candlelight vigils...I applauded quietly forming the backdrop...
The goals achieved, the promise proclaimed before millions of witnesses...they parted, extolling the virtues of meeting again...
I wondered if things would indeed change how many of those raddled, weary denizens could withstand the urge to take the easy way out of bribe and scribe....or stay steadfast on the moral high ground they preached from, to one and all.

April 08, 2011

Girl Child - An Alternate Reality





Burned to ashes...


Never to be held to the warm bosom.
As I watched, weak and helpless,
The comforting embrace of known arms 
Enclosed in their hold, not for long.
Mud I smelt, wet, dust caused sniffles
Calloused hands unwrapped the blanket
Shivering  body laid to rest...
The billowing earth, burning lungs,
Choked cry stuck in the chest
Wriggled, twisted in agony,
The ochre colours blinding the vision,
Left to breath my last.
The heavens sadly smiled,
Warm burrowing hands desperate in their search
Burning tears of rage, echoing growls from deep within
My saviour stood fearful
Till my feeble cries of thanks he heard.
Grandfather never minded
Was his daughter's last thread left
You murdered me almost, father
Your own flesh and blood
Wouldn’t it have made a difference 
 Had I been a born a boy??





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