Reverie

  Once upon a time in my village, when telephones were yet to find a place in most households, messages travelled long distances through the post. The roads were poor, transport was limited, and communication was dreadfully slow. The days of kings, sultans, and messenger pigeons had long passed; hence, birds no longer arrived bearing encrypted messages tied to their necks or feet. One could only rely on the humble telegram as the fastest means of urgent communication. A trunk call could be made, but it was expensive and not always easy to arrange. So, whenever a telegram arrived, people gathered around with curiosity and concern, for it usually carried news that could not wait. It was a time when India was at war. Soldiers were either deployed at the front or stationed at various military bases on standby. My grandfather, who was serving in the Indian Army, had also been recalled to duty with immediate effect, along with several of his colleagues who had been enjoying leave at ho...

                                      Who hasn’t chased shadows? As children, we turned around in wonder at that black figure trailing behind us, miming our every movement in silence. The long and short shapes it took under the blazing sun often reminded me of the distorted mirrors I once saw at an exhibition where one stretched me into a ribbon, another shrank me into a balloon. I still remember the excitement of making strange figures with my hands and body, watching my shadow religiously imitate every antic. I loved riding my bicycle fast just to see the hair of my shadow fly in the wind. Sometimes, I would loosen my grip on the handlebars and lift my arms wide, only to watch my shadow wobble and tumble beside me. There were no inhibitions then — no fear, no restraint. My shadow loved following me everywhere, and I loved its company. I never felt alone. But as we grow older, we begin to...

    A kiss that carried all the love unexpressed, emotions untold, and thoughts undelivered in a single moment - that was my mother’s kiss on my forehead on my wedding day, when I bent to receive her blessings before stepping into a new chapter of my life. The impact of that one kiss - perhaps the last she ever gave me, has overshadowed the thousands that came before. Her kindness, brilliance, strong will, and resilience have always mesmerized me. I loved the way she smelled - when she hugged me, her warmth enveloped me in a soothing fragrance I could never quite decipher. It still amazes me that, at times, I sense that very same fragrance when I hold my daughters close or press a kiss upon their foreheads. And so, though I love my children deeply, I find myself hugging them whenever I can, just to feel you near me. Selfish of me, isn’t it? But I cannot help it. Amma, you were so beautiful. When you smiled, a gentle shyness lingered on your face. The slight tilt of you...

  Dreams Virtual Reality Charged With Emotions Unquenched And Unfulfilled Desires Longing   ‘Elfchen’ - I am now obsessed with this form of poetry!!! Try out, everyone can do this…Know what an Elfchen is and go back reading my poem above to understand the pattern.   An " elfchen " is a German poem with a specific structure of 11 words across five lines, following a 1-2-3-4-1 word count. It is also known as an "elevenie" in English, and the name combines "elf" (eleven) and "-chen" (a German diminutive suffix meaning "little"). The structure encourages a progression of thought, with the first line introducing a topic and the last line providing a summary or transformation.    Line 1: One word (the topic) Line 2: Two words (description of what the topic does) Line 3: Three words (a location or descriptive phrase) Line 4: Four words (a metaphor or deeper meaning) Line 5: One word (a new word that summarizes or t...

    Our journey together began More than a decade ago. You were planted with much care, Alongside other fruit-bearing kin. We wished you could grace our yard, To be our mark of distinction. But more than that, we wanted you   To spread your cool warmth into our home.   You seemed to sense our silent feeling, Our sincere longing to call you ours. Your tender leaves swaying in the breeze, Danced with vigour and effortless ease, You set our hearts flutter with joy And filled our eyes with calm contentment.   In time, you grew - strong, tall and wide, Standing stout with great pride. Yet seasons went by without a bloom, A decade passed by, untouched by fruit. We worried, we pondered, But waited in patience. Our love for you never diminished, We stood by you, trusting you would flourish.   Then one blessed day we saw you stoop, As if shy, yet eager to whisper That you were now ready, Poised and resolute...

    Is it my cognitive reality which is now the embodiment of my embarrassment, and deepens into resentment, turning inward, belittling me, because I am drooling, gaping at the country snacks inside the glass shelf of the tea stall !   Gosh, the blush on my face, like the flames of a furnace hot and red, which I dread has attracted many heads.   Those mint candies , lemon candies , rainbow lollipops and little cakes on the owner’s desk lure, poke my pitiful heart, rejuvenate its pace, its rhythm, pull its strings to those, lost moments, the forgotten experiences and enunciate it isn’t a gone memory.   It deliberates my connection, my bond to my childhood, my precious era, laden with mischiefs and innocent altercations.   The bus I proudly steered, my brothers its co-passengers, was my architectural design, made with my Amma’s saree .   That vehemence cascades down further to my ance...

  I’ll be there for you – A promise made to keep, An assurance sworn to abide, A faith strong, pure and true, An oath to breathe till eternity, A trust no trial can subdue.   The Friends, set the bar high – Monica, Chandler, Ross, Joey, Rachel, Phoebe, They taught us how friendship stand tall, Against the tide of fading years, How laughter and loyalty entwine, And makes life’s journey more divine.   Louisa and William in Me Before You – Unveiled love’s overwhelming reality, Beyond the limits of mortal frame, A selfless flame, only the pure soul to blame, That even the grim reaper must bow before, The commandments of the doting heart.   Sydney Carton in A Tale of Two Cities – A silent ardent lover of Lucie , Who gave his life, not for glory, But for the triumph of love, A sacrifice scripted in eternity’s story, A testament that true love lives beyond return.   And so, my love, my promise stands true, ...

    Blazing sun and scorching heat , Beads of toil trickling down in beat. Drenching the baniyaan in silent feat, Kaka, the rickshawala , pulling through the street.   The pounding rhythm of turning wheels, Two of the three roll with measured heels. Kaka is the third, part of the frame, Tethered to toil, yet no badge, no name.   One step forward, two steps behind, He tugs his cart with a soldier’s mind. Through potholes deep and roads unkind, He hauls the weight of humankind.   His face haggard, blemishes shown, Eyes alert, though dreams forlorn. Cheeks hollowed, spirit torn, Yet Kaka stood with pride, no fate could scorn.   No shoes on feet, on roads burning hot , The sun, a whip he never forgot. When skies collapse in merciless rain , He braves the storm with silent pain.   The pounding roar of his weary heart, Keeps his rhythm in a cautious start. Imploring his body not to fall apart, Kaka...