Monday, July 16, 2007

I am travelling

For next ten days, at cyber café
I shall visit during my afternoon days
Away from home, in a strange land
Cannot promise to access my regular mail

Days will be spent feasting my eyes
To enjoy the scenic and beauty of the world
Will savor the cuisine, visit the lanes
With fun and frolic and my cousins’ tales

Nights will be shorter, so will be the days
Have limited time to use up my pays
Laughter and teasing and all those fights
Might steal some time but I can’t promise to write.

Married or single..it is attitude that counts!

Firta hoon mai darbadar
Milta nahin humsafar

Two little women,
Married and single
Lived opposite each other
Confused and bitter

You are lucky
said one woman to another
Both loved to disagree
On each other’s comfort.

Both look towards the sky
As their tears mingle with rain
Both grow complacent
With their disillusionment

Two little women
Learnt new lessons
Single or married
Doesn’t really matter

Both decide to walk with
Their attitude high and fi
Each in their own cocoon
Happy at last

Each enjoying their own
Cozy solitude
As they hear a man
singing all day
Firta hoon mai, darbadar
Milta nahin, humsafar

Flop Show

She told him not to meet her this time
His presence made her forget her lines
But, he, too much in love with her
Couldn’t, for long, keep out in clear
He waved excitedly, through a silent crowd
And saw her faltering, her eyes on ground.

She could not read the prompting lips
All actors stared at her in disbelief
People coughed between the pause
But deep in thoughts, she lingered on.

When pause was too much like a pain
She felt her arm being whisked away
With apologies sounding on a mike
The show ended abruptly with a frown.

Sunday, July 15, 2007

On her best performance on stage

Nervously, with quivering emotions
She rests her thin, long fingers
on shiny, black and white keys
As the melodious music envelops her
The audience slowly fade away
Replaced by dancing notes
That play the music of her dreams.

Saturday, July 14, 2007

Marriages are no more made in heaven

People are more exposed these days and inter-racial/religious marriages are a norm ... but still old mindsets exist. There is always a raised eyebrow at the news of love marriage and if the couples are mismatched (according to their society) the conflict will continue to exist.

Marriage is a personal choice and it should only be the decision of two adult people who decide to venture in this trip of life, because every adult is a responsible individual and he is fully aware of the outcome of his decisions and is ready to face it.

What is important is to clearly define and accept that this is what you will be contributing to the marriage because you are bringing in your heritage, your cultures, your languages, your religious beliefs. Decide how the children of this marriage will be raised in what faith - faith is important to instill, when they are older they are free to choose but a path must be set.

The durability of a happy marriage depends on the attitude of the couple and the conflict is common to all types of marriage, inter-racial or one community. Compromise may be a dirty word. Acceptance and understanding are not. And they are both required in a marriage...

It is difficult for Indian parents to accept the decision of inter-racial marriage of their children. Indian parents care too much about their social status in their society and some parents feel humiliated for not being in charge of finding a spouse for their off-spring of equal status and culture. Moreover, because of their protective nature they are worried about their child being unable to cope with a cultural shock.

It is important to believe in appreciation of diversity and it is better to embrace the diversity, set the parameters and rules clearly before embarking on a marriage - because the external pressures that one faces will only be harder to overcome when they are still two very divergent spirits ... trying to strike a balance.

Stretching the incompatibilities beyond limits brings up the ugliness...and ultimately, breakdown of the relationship...even if the two continue to live under the same roof.

Marrying outside the community has its own advantages. There are no set community rules to follow and a new set of rules are laid down which are agreeable to both and worked out to their best of advantages. While one community may have strict rules within the community, the rules are lax and easier to adjust to, in inter-racial marriages.

Two adults in a relationship...there will always be some differences, some incompatibilities, in varying degrees. How these incompatibilities are handled by the two goes a long way in defining the strength of the relationship. Maturity - sensibility - mutual respect - valuing your own and the other's personal space - and deep caring, being the key words. It is a two-way lane.

Making the right choice or decision is very important. And I think there's nothing more important than honoring the decisions that one takes. If it was a mistake or a failure, it is better to accept it and learn rather than justifying. Failures and mistakes are like accidents...it should never become a habit.

Love, commitment, and dependence are essential for the success of any relationship. When there is no love, no mutual dependence, the relationship stands corroded even in marriage within same community..

What is most important is to make it work against all odds because it is the decision that you took in first place and was a responsible individual then.

Well! That is what you actually thought and stood firm in your decision then. Didn’t you?

Thursday, July 12, 2007

Wah! Taj Mahal!

On my trip to Agra city
I met Mumtaz Mahal
In her pose of serenity

Do you know, it is one of the
seven wonders of the world?
she exclaimed as soon as she saw me smile

With thousand hits for a cell company
they voted for a monument that was just for me!

Will they dress the lawns around
In spotless, green, evening gown?

Will they clothe me in sparkling white
Make me glow, on a clear moonlight?

In Lisbon, Wow! What a sight
I walked a ramp with a pride
Did you vote too, is that right?
No Ma’am I said, I only write.

Tuesday, July 03, 2007

To Uncle..with love

This was an exercise I attempted on a forum.
Two letters, one sweet, sugar coated and other bitter, sour grapes, all for the greedy intentions of usurping the wealth from a rich, dying uncle.

Dearest Uncle Moron,

Guess what, uncle? Today, while I was relishing the taste of kheema Pav, my thought rested on the memories of you. How are you, uncle? Actually, often I think of you, especially during this feast of kheema Pav, that brings back all those treasured moments of you. I am so grateful to you for those colorful, enriching hours of sunshine that we have shared together. Do you remember, how we would go to those narrow, snaky lanes off Crawford market road, that were infested with flies and pollutions, where the streets were full of laborers and shoppers looking for a good bargain, you would take me there to that one particular stall, the one on the wheels, you would say that it was your favorite spot, because they cooked the most delicious, spicy Kheema? Do you remember the day when you had asked me not to tell mommy about that unhygienic feast, when I took to bed with Malaria for next seven days and you had to bribe me with that cute, little doll, with light brown eyes that went blink, blink? Ah! I still remember all the details. Those memories are so fresh in my mind that they refuse to go away. Oooh! Those good ole days!

You were my best uncle, always pampering me. I remember how you would carry me, piggy ride on your shoulder, and I would tickle your neck and you would almost lose your balance, and one day, your left foot crossed over a carelessly strewn boots and we both fell down and you laughed merrily calling me ‘sissy’ when the tears welled up in my eyes, also those lovely poems that you would teach me? What a lovely voice you had, I would close my eyes to feel the rhythm of those musical tunes. I remember all the poems till today and I often sing them to my children, Rahul and Pooja. Many nights when they are too stubborn to go to sleep, instead of reading a book, I relate to them the stories about your adventures to those exotic places that you would visit; get drunk with the locals and had to be carried to your hotel room. They get so amused hearing about your long funky hair and those one dozen gold chains around your neck, they have been so eager to meet you.

Uncle, I am so sorry to hear about your frail health. I lay tossing in bed all night, worrying about you. I am sure it must be quite difficult for you. It is pity that we have not been in touch for such a long time. It is almost ten years since I last saw you. Same story of every woman! After marriage we have to go where our destiny takes us and then we get entangled in the rut of life. I have missed you so much! Had you not pestered my husband, Akil, about returning your hundred thousand dollars loans, he would never have insisted on my breaking my ties with you. I am sure we would never have migrated to a place where you could not find us.

But, don’t you worry. I will take care of you. I will bring Akil and children too. You can finally spend some peaceful days, enjoying the innocence and playfulness of Rahul and Pooja. I know I can bring you back to good health by cooking for you all the food that you enjoy. You can send me four air-plane tickets immediately and two thousand dollars to buy for you some gift too.

You can relax, then, I will be there for you…forever!

Your favorite niece

your Titlie

Uncle Moron,

Everyday I see a postman from my window, I run downstairs, barefoot, almost begging him, hoping that he will have a mail for me. Sometimes I wait for Fed Ex and other times for a DHL and sometimes I shout through the letterboxes. You don't realize just how exhausting it is chasing mail-men all the time. 'Please,' they cry, 'leave us alone. Give us some dignity!' But damn it! Where is the mail? I am waiting for air tickets and money. Can’t you use those creepy, bony fingers of yours to write just a cheque of two thousand dollars, either? Huh?

Uncle you were always like that, stingy and selfish. Momma had always warned me about you. She had told me that you were just a swashbuckling, womanizing twit. I know you were kind and considerate to me, but that was because you wanted to please my momma. You were actually afraid of her because she was your wife’s best friend. She knew what you hid in your closets. Isn’t it? She knew about that whore, who visited you on Sundays, who painted her face with such thick cake of make-up, that her face showed cracks whenever she smiled. I believe she mothered your son too. Now, now, you wouldn’t want me to discuss that with anybody else, not now, that your one foot is almost touching the graveyard. Don't accuse me of vain glory. However, I am beginning to feel rather sorry for you. I didn’t expect you to make such drastic decisions at your age. What good the money is to those homes where you are planning to give away in charities? They will never hang your portrait in their vestibule with a sweet smelling flower garlands nor invest a penny on jasmine fragrant stick. No good, uncle, I say ya, no good! Believe me when I say that!

You are lucky that you have me, your niece, who cares so much for you. Tell you what. My bags are packed, and I have decided not to do any shopping for you, especially at your age, you may not even want me to waste any money on you. I will come next week, alone. Akil is willing to bring Rahul and Pooja later, when you decide to open your palms.

Don’t you worry, uncle. When I am here, there is nothing to fear. I tell ya, seriously, nothing to fear!

I enclose lots of hugs with this mail.

Shall wait no more for your mail because I am on my way

Your favorite niece…forever

Titlie

Thank U for this award

Thank U for this award
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