Musings Of A Learner

Durga In Me

You are femininity personified

Ageless and compassionate

You stand out in your celestial sphere

Worshipped by men

Who are vary of your valour.

You are the one

Who slays evil

With incredible strength.

You transform pain to power

And chaos to peace.

The universe trembles when you are Kalratri

You teach us that pain and destruction are inevitable

As Skandamata you are the playful mother

You protect families as Kushmanda

You help us face the vagaries of life.

An embodiment of serenity and compassion

You are Shakti.

Your eyes dazzle with a blend

Of anger, softness, resilience.

You helped me discover myself

And taught me to bow before none but myself,

to overpower the demons within and outside

And wear my scars with wings.

Painting of Durga painted by Heemal

The Corn Seller

The Corn Seller

Stops at my half open window

Seeing a prospective buyer

Of his yellow pimpled corn.

Putting on his finest grin

He displays the bright beads of corn

Intricately poised

Ready to be nibbled.

When he grew corn in his field

Little did he know that

He was nurturing a legacy

Which never taught him

That it’s not the corn which scores

But other skills.

As he stands before the window

He feels a waft of loneliness

Sweep over him.

Reading the look of rejection

Shattering his glimmer of hope.

The lights turn green.

He moves on

In the scorching sun

Bearing a misery unsaid.

Pickled Delights

Gathering the most palatable

Out of bruised pieces,

Sliced and diced

Mangoes, carrots, lemons, turnips.

Lay marinated, cured & peppered.

An unexpected sweetness mingling with

The piquant and zesty.

Family members muddled together

Wary of each other

Drowned in tangy sauces

Drizzled with oil and herbs

Waiting nonchalantly

To be bottled in glazed porcelain jars.

Alas! Heartbroken to find

No shelf for me to be displayed

I lay dazed

in plastic and metallic containers

Open to hungry eyes.

Waiting for someone to take a bite

Of my brine soaked body.

I lie patiently

Waiting to be relished

And chosen over the others.

I envy the chilli family

Stuffed and cuddled together tightly.

They are celebrating and bursting

With sheer happiness.

I am jealous of the carrots

Retaining their crunchy uniqueness

Blushing with excitement

And dripping with spices,

All set to be savoured.

But, I believe in myself

And my identity.

I’m confident of my power

to get better with age.

Whether I lounge

in a jar or bucket,

I am pickled with happiness

To just be me.

The Ornate Door

I stand tall

At a temple’s entrance,

Always open

Watching shadows walk in.

Some admire my heavy frame

Which holds centuries of stories

And unknown things of yore.

A door of perception

Testimony to the magnificence

Panelled in timber.

Alas! My wrinkled exterior

is now painted with tangerine yellow.

My ornate metallic embellishments

have lost their antique look.

The hinges that embraced me

now show their ire

Over this ostentatious makeover.

I stand in splendour

Baring my veiled soul.

Don’t look remorsefully on me

I lead you to opportunities,

Divinity and self-realisation

Picture of door- courtesy Heemal

I am a Pebble

They call me a pebble

A purposeless piece of stone

Lying on the roadside.

Kids kick me around

Often tearing their own shoes.

I cry but none

Seem to feel my pain.

They call me a pebble

A useless piece of stone

Having travelled far and wide

Through traffic and tide

Bleached by the sun

Bearing the brunt of cold nights.

They call me a pebble

Sistered by cobbles

Lashed by incessant rains

Day in and day out

Till the time I cracked

And was torn to pieces.

They call me a pebble

Born along with my siblings

I rolled down,

Full of dignity

Into the river bed

tossed by strong currents of water

smoothed by its tides.

They call me a pebble

My siblings and I

hurled downstream,

Only to be separated

And never meet again.

Some of us were

Reduced to grains of sand.

Alas! I was left alone

Among strangers on the river bed

They call me a pebble

Which stayed put

On the river bed

Mutely watching forms of life

Drift around me.

Caressed by the sand

With other distant cousins.

They still call me a pebble

Shovelling me into a cauldron

Covering rough terrain.

Shaking with fear

Reflecting on a squeaky ride

Jostling for space with fellows

Unwilling to be tamed

Feeling rebellious

I fall out on the road.

They call me a pebble

Softened by my journey

I lie in corners of homes

Balancing with other pebbles

Whose rough edges

Only make me feel better

About my journey.

The Sacred Thread

I may not show

How much I cared for you

How much I depended on you

Oh how much we laughed,

Fought and bickered,

Troubled each other

But our love never abated.

Those memories never faded.

You helped me find a voice

when words failed me

You were always there to help me

find my way in the darkest hour

I knew you’d come to my rescue

No matter where you were

“Live life like there is no other.

Smile, help others

and move on with no expectations.

Take care of mom, dad and family

Miss me but not for long

Miss me a little but let me go”

You left without an inkling

So fast and unexpectedly

The festival to celebrate

Our timeless bond

Comes every year and

I feel a strange ache.

Do I celebrate this

Deliberate on it?

A simple thread around your wrist

Was my prayer for your long life

Reaffirming our love and affection

Time will pass

But I’ll hold on to our memories

Of bonding over that sacred thread.

What’s on your mind today?

As soon as I open my timeline,

Facebook asks me, “whats on your mind?”

Somewhat perturbed, I sit to underline

My train of thoughts.

They are of every kind.

Most of them are yet to grow,

Many of them swing to and fro

Rest of them are born, and gone.

But my endless thoughts must end in a dawn.

I recollect nothing but random musings,

I dive here and there in a frenzy

The beauty of nature around me,

Awakens me to a splendid morning at sea

Spreading my arms

To an unending sky.

Then in a moment,

I see nothing in everything,

I see everything in nothing.

Clouds

I wake up each morning to look at the sky

Is it blue, white, and billowy?

Clouds

They always surprise me

Image by Heemal Handoo Bhat

Today the cerulean canvas

is filled with stratus clouds

Leaving a wispy trail

across the sky

Bringing bliss in the quiet dawn.

Delhi never gets to see

A lustrous sky

We see gloomy clouds hovering over the city

Or peripatetic clouds in the monsoon

But these seem to be idling

Ephemeral and detached

unlike my thoughts

I silently witness the culprit wind

Shooing them away swiftly

Rays of hope and courage

Are nestled in cloudy layers

Leaving behind a trail of happiness.

Poppy blooms

Some flowers are best

When left untouched

They choose to live

Despite knowing

They won’t be here for long.

In the midst of fragile flowers

I see you standing tall

Having lost a part of yourself

You flutter in the warm morning.

Another beautiful flower stands next to you

And pulls my gaze away

But I am impressed by

How you refuse to be forgotten.

I am like the bee

Resting in your bosom

Lingering on your soft scented couch

While the quiet air lulls me

to rest with my memories.

Hues of Autumn

From a dense green you turn gold, red and yellow.

Your fiery brilliance intrudes through every cell of mine.

How can people see you as a sign of death and decay?

You have a calming effect on our lives.

When you fall onto my lap,

There is a certain sadness,

But I know it’s your way of letting go

I can smell the scent of the woods,

As I walk through the rustling carpet,

Which whispers as I tread slowly.

I know you have made way for winter-

The dark and lonely season.

The seasonal spell of falling leaves,

Brings a smile to my face.

The gentle breeze caresses

And promises evenings spent in nature’s arms.

The warmth of its embrace lulls me into calmness.

I shall wait for you

Because I know,

You will be back again

With the grand splendour of change.