Walk of Life

Stumbling,tottering and tilting
falling over
getting up again, unsure yet curious
All the time laughing.
smiling and learning.

Kicking around, jumping over,
sprinting and climbing,
scraping..hurting.
Always persevering.
stretching the limits,
achieving and exhaling.

Strolling, ambling aimlessly,
tripping, tramping..locking and unlocking
loving, playing, teasing, pursuing
Twirling.
swaying and spinning.
dancing away in the night.

Shepherding,guiding,
leading and being lead on.

Marching on,
always running but curiously staying at the same place.
trudging and plodding.
Scraping, scurrying,
looking behind never fondly.
Never ahead with awe.

Kneeling, bending with the weight.
stopping..almost..
steadying.
Heavy heart..lifting

Uplifting again..the soul, the mind
starting again..
slipping..tottering..
Smiling and learning anew.


Written on 31st January, 2016.

(Hello there..how is it going? Long time no see, no hear, no write.. We have gone beyond explanations now right??!! Like a bad penny that returns or more like if you love someone set them free and they do return !! :D  Believe me I tired..really..but could not write..not that I did not have the time ..though I was busy and have discovered you are more busy in your head than with work. I just could not write..came here many times started one or two poems..could not finish them..had no new ideas. Today too I came back as I have some time on my hands..what with being laid up in bed compulsorily. Relax not to worry too much..ankle sprain and ligament tear..so basically now learning to walk..self teaching this time around !!:)..and thought what about writing about learning to walk..and from there it went to how walking, and being on our feet, up and about..kinds of defines our phases of life..and hence the poem. I have written about hands as Links of Life  and this could be a kind of a parallel. Self inspiration..don't worry I am not going to write about any more body parts. And well, if nothing else there are a whole lot of synonyms to learn here ;). So in the process learnt to write again..and one more realisation dawned. Creativity needs discipline too. Hope I can translate this into other things in my life. That's a good way to start the new year too right..ya ya I know..but better late than never..Happy New Year !! See you around and keep walking.) 

A River Runs Through Me

A river runs through me.

Winding through the brunt bricks of time,

Turning at right angles of centuries,

Carrying the waters of afar lands of wisdom and knowledge.

It meanders among the rich hues of cultures;

Taking the colors of change and giving its soothing touch.

Accepting offerings of hope, dreams and wishes of the throngs of generations at its sides.

It gives cool succor to the parched souls,

And washes away some of their imperfections.

It has seen ages of golden lights, and bloody fights,

It has passed through valleys of milk and honey ;

And

Through silent villages of death.

It has quenched the thirst of wanderers of life, and;

Sometimes,

Doused the fires of several lives torn apart.

It courses through me,

Falling from the mouth of creation, till the end of time.

It has given the rhythm to my heart to beat with the music of life;

The strength in my sinew to battle my fears;

The fluid tenacity in my limbs to walk afar pursuing my dreams.

And,

The wisdom of all my progenitors past.

The river grows old.

It is heavy with load of this earth and beyond.

It meets the vast Oneness and,

Then is born again amid untouched purity and glistening glory.

But its depths still carries the first prayer, the first tear, the first blood and the first word.

On my turning a new corner to the fourth street in life,

And the end of road of one of my grand progenitors,

 I ask myself Can I pass away ?

I hear the gurgling of sounds beyond and I remember.

A river runs through me......

Written on 29th October, 2009

(This time my birthday and Diwali were on the same day and everybody including me were looking forward to it. It was after five years that I would be home for my birthday . It was a great day with family and friends. A week later the day I returned back to my campus I received the news that my maternal grandparent had passed away. And I wondered at life's what should I call it circularity.. a week before it was celebration time and then .. Though they say when old people leave us we should not grieve because they have lived a full life and it is time to move on. It is true for my nanaji too. That is when I was reminded of a conversation I had  with my friends last year where we were playing with the decision ball and one my friends asked the question "Can I pass away?" and it was interesting to think about it. I had even begun a poem titled with the question. After the recent times I again thought about the question where it struck me that I carry something of my grandparents in me too like I do something of my parents and hence something of everything that has gone by. Therefore the concept of a river which flows over the ages and continues to exist in time though changed and transformed. The river here any of course be any but I had the river Indus in mind as I am fascinated with the Indus valley civilization and the level of progress we had made then. That knowledge surprisingly did not continue down the ages. Some references to the civilization are there in the poem ..short refresher of high school history !!! :) )

Hall of Life

I don't cry because, 

My heart is joined by tears,

Tears warm, smooth and salty,

They fit in any grove,

My heart gives them enough room.

Room of laughter;

Why laughter you ask?

Laughter because true mirth brings tears.

Room of love;

Love the eternal reason for tears 

Those who get it cry and those who don't too.

Room of pain;

Pain, very natural you say,

Yes, but not of knife stabs but pin pricks.

Room of joy;

Joy not in reaching the stars,

But of meeting meteorites on the way and then leaving them.

There are many other rooms, interconnected;

Some closed, some open, some fictitious, some real.

But there is a Hall in which all these rooms open,

The Hall of Life.

Life with all its laughter, love, pain and joys.

And all these are joined by tears.

So now you know I don't cry, because I don't want the door of the,

Hall of Life shut on me. 

( I used to consider it my best poem till date , before Labour of Love came along. The later is many layered and I really like the metaphors and allusions used in it. This poem is simple, subtle and beautiful. That is why it gives it name to the blog. {I know I am very modest !! ;) } )

Written on 3rd May, 2000.