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.

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.

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??

Friends - Love Them Or Leave them - Here To Stay

I came, I saw, They conquered 

Anxious

Ballistic

Charming

Diffident

I came, I saw, They conquered

Enriching

Fierce

Gullible

Honest

I came, I saw, They conquered

Inspiring

Jealous

Kempt

Lovable

I came, I saw, They conquered

Miserable

Nerdy

Opinionated

Popular

I came, I saw, They conquered

Querulous

Restless

Sacrificing

Temperamental

I came, I saw, They conquered

Unique

Versatile

Worldly

Xenophobic

I came, I saw, They conquered

Yesterday’s

Zenith

We met, We lingered, We parted, We reminisced.

Enterprising - Breaking Male Street Bastions

The dawn filtered through the flimsy curtain.Time to hit the road again...a quick breakfast....morning ablutions completed, the door to her tiny tenement locked.The drizzle made her glad at fixing the shades last week.Taking her usual spot at the stand, she awaited the call...kick starting with ease, drove at a comfortable speed...obvious.with kids in the back seat. Dropping them off to school 4 kms away, she parked near the gates....early morning meant that she never lacked company. Soon it was noon, busy more often than not...home, a leisurely lunch later; she left for the weekly meeting at the tiny shed. Two hours of advice and tips later, an urgent call to the railway station had her rushing off.The meeting always brought back old memories of her violent marriage, her escape to Delhi, her house and job hunts and to the curious path life had taken her..

Being the first female autorickshaw driver in North India hadn't been easy. The lack of funds, uncooperative, disgruntled male drivers had made the first few years miserable...her commuters,specially women had made her stick on...now 9 years after her first ride, she was a proud owner of her own vehicle.

Dutiful Daughter And Wife

She seemed out of spirits...the normally bouncy 24 yr old wore a pensive look. Even her favourite niece’s antics couldn’t erase the sadness etched on her face.

She didn’t pry, not her nature but sensed something amiss. She would ensure that these two weeks brought her sister’s old self back. Sure enough, by the end of the fortnight Kaveri seemed reluctant to go back....

The sisters had been close in childhood but the last 3 years had seen them drift apart.

Marriage, motherhood and living far away had made her unaware of certain things back home, not totally oblivious.

 Shifting back to childhood city seemed perfect at the moment. The first few days went in settling her children into a new environment, summer holidays and half a dozen cousins scampering around made things easier. She and her husband had just picked out a small but beautiful apartment...the advance paid, he was awaiting the loan clearance from the bank he worked in, they would be moving into their dream home within a month or two. Her happiness overshadowed by the vibes around the family dinner.

She questioned her elder sisters.....the answers saddened her and her husband deeply. So much had happened in the time they had been away. Her father’s ancestral home was heavily mortgaged. His brothers withdrawing their capital from their small wholesale firm, competition, manufacturers’ misgivings and rising debts meant he would soon be bankrupt. Unable to sell the ancient home to modern buyers, Kaveri’s marriage alliances drying up as a result.

They mulled over it for a month....the loan approval bringing little joy. Her husband loved her father to the point of adoration, losing his own at a tender age may have had something to do with it. He wanted to help but how....until Kalpana had a brainwave. They decided to postpone their dream and pay for the wedding instead (Indian weddings being costly affairs hosted by the bride’s family)...

The only glitch, her mother would never agree....Suresh decided on something better, buy off the ancestral home where they could live together with her parents and his mother. He wanted a big house of his own, having been at the mercy of relatives for the first 15 years of his life. She was reluctant as the aging home was more trouble than worth, feeling the first option to be the best, besides her brother’s wife was a vile woman she preferred to stay away from....

His mind made, nothing she said would sway him...the home changed hands, the marriage happened as planned.....things were bad from day one...crumbling interiors and exteriors that ate all their savings and a sister in law who made live hell in their own home. She never thought of making her brother leave, she loved him too much, his handicap rendering his earning capacity limited.

 Two year later when her husband got transferred, relief coursed through her veins...in a new city, another rented home, watching her nine and seven year old sleep...often she wondered if her notion of love and duty hadn’t stolen their dreams away.

 Count 512

Companion - An Ode To Thee

A white vision of loveliness approached

 The doomsday come and gone forth.

Moody and cantankerous

Breaking down at junctures of urgency

She made clutching hairs in despair

A meaningless, everyday gesture,

Her gaze loomed across time and space

Civilizations and mindplay, all a day’s worth.

Alas that good things come to a closure

So, it was, as the Wise Anon are wont to say.

True friends with benefits, never in the vulgar way

The parting amicable yet disturbing

 Pieces of heart and mind cut with invisible hands.

Adorning someone else’s room,

Enriching some other lives,

Frivolous pursuits of another like minded

Ageing grace she epitomises

My beautiful, wondrous companion no more,

For a span of eight earth years

My precious secret keeper – my Pentium 4. 

( Well, Aesthetic Blasphemy...your post and your reply comment prompted this...)

Succinctly Yours - MFM # 2

Lost in heavy trance

her son, glistening eyes saw

the bike rider start.

he drove on; unaware of shouts to stop,

she still stood, awaiting.

Added to Haiku Heights (first 3 lines), Grandma's Goulash (all 5 lines).

# 39 RandomMusings For The Day

If being a blood sucker is cool, aren't mosquitoes the coolest?....they don’t even sparkle in the sun. ;D

The Journey

Let me go..
Let me find my own road

Every journey begins with a desire,
To see, to feel, to touch the world
With all we possess.

Let me go...
Let me find the fork I need to take.
Everyone needs a marker
To say they passed this way..
Let me be the marker
Of my own new way

Each and every soul has a story to unravel,

A journey to commence,
Some need a guiding light,

Others a glance that propels them ahead,
And then there are those that need
To see the destination from afar.

And through all this only the wise realise,
whatever be the end, or the middle
The beginning is all that matters....

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 19.

Haiku 12

Rajasthani Puppets : Image courtesy Flickr

Puppets of the world /

Brother always quoted him /

Years later, agree //