The Hugging Saint

The hugging saint

hugged me again....

amidst the scorching heat 

and sweltering crowd

she had a few moments

to give me

that loving jaddoo ki jhappi.*

Overwhelmed again I was

by her warm humility,

by her showering sharing demeanor

happily giving away

the divine strength

she receives for herself

to ordinary commoners like me.

Walking away 

from that epitome of purity,

I carried within me

emotions of peace,

tears of gratitude

for what I knew not

yet, I was aware that she did....

Thank you Amma!

*Jaddoo ki Jhappi means magical hug.
Also do read Amma I know you are there

Game?

This is part of NaPoWriMo - 30 poems in 30 days
Day 19
Prompt: PERSONAL AD

Wanted a brutally soft muscular man
for a legal mating relationship
(yeah! the modern name for a marriage
how very boring!)
with a seducingly hard core feminist
with dark demeanour
and shallow soul...

Age no bar
could be near or far
between 30 to 50
believing in the desire
to procreate, pester and purchase
bonds of security
both, material and emotional....

Game any?

How are you doing?

This is part of NaPoWriMo - 30 poems in 30 days

Day 17
Prompt: GREETINGS

Lying idle.
Taking for granted.
Churning old grudges.
I have forgotten
what it means to celebrate.

Relationships run a nonsensical race.
Thoughts torment.
Feelings falter.
And I discover amidst my disillusion
what it means to greet, to acknowledge.

Greeting you, me and us.
Greeting love, lust and lost flavour.
Greeting the cool breeze.
Greeting my existence.
Greeting life itself.

Thank You Brinda.....

For Brinda:

Remembering hurt
in a cynical world
is easy.
Remembering a miniscule act of friendship
can get forgotten.

Remembering anger and disdain
in a sadistic world
is natural.
Remembering love that is understated
is difficult.

And yet,
busy in this world,
you remembered.
Sharing that memory
strengthening a bond
that only grows with time.

Thank You for the Lovely Birthday Wishes -
the best I could have ever had.
God bless.

Yo! Ho! Ho!

This is part of NaPoWriMo - 30 poems in 30 days

Day Three: 
Prompt: Write A Sea Chantey

Aboard a ship,
Away from home
With a dagger and a gun.
Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum!

Let's charge ahead
unmindful of daring dangers
the wind on our side
singing to the tide.

Hey mates!
Let's not bother about the future
Let's get together,
load our barrels and beat the weather.

What's life without adventure?
What's love without passion?
Let's share our fears
Oh Tarry ho, let's get on my dears!

Illusion of Truth

This is part of NaPoWriMo - writing 30 poems in 30 days

Day Two:
Prompt: the poem that tells a lie

I knew I was made for him
and he for me,
his glance the very first day
told me so-
there I was with my pretty friend Jenny
and yet, he looked longingly at me.
I was lonely, lost and looking out
for someone,
anyone who would care
to look back at me,
to want me
despite my distracting, distant gaze
into the non-existent forlorn future
so when you looked
I knew it had to be you
so when you finally tied the knot
months later with my pretty friend Jenny
I understood myself
completely
knowing the farcical truth
that I had been living
to live a lie.
I knew then I was made for him
'cos I saw him looking longingly
at the bridesmaid as he kissed the bride!

Slowly, silently now the moon

This is part of the NaPoWriMo - National Poetry Writing Month - 30 poems in 30 days..

Day One: Prompt - The first line of Walter de la Mare's Silver....

Slowly, silently now the moon
twirls, twists and dances
amidst her cloudy friends
lashing, longing and loving
happily swaying with the wind
that delightfully threatens
to take off without me..
Slowly, silently now the moon
flashbacks into memories
long forgotten,
into alleys dusty with neglect,
into desires buried deep
in the mire of frustratingly
helpless reality...
Slowly, silently now the moon
lifts me from my gracious gloom
and takes me for a joy ride
floating on clouds
that make me feel the joy
of knowing you,
of picking up the courage to let you go....

Terror Stop!

I tell myself,
'Oh! Not Again!'
But, how many times
have I told this to myself, to others...
Bombers, what are you are trying to prove?
Anger?
Frustration?
Revenge?
All human emotions
yet, so inhuman in your act.
All vulnerable feelings
yet, so cruel in perception.
All proof of your human thoughts
yet, so evil in action.

Do horrid deaths,
broken bones,
burning flesh,
bleeding organs
give respite
even to the perpetrator?

Who are we to judge
the wrongs done to humanity?
Who are we to gauge
anything at all?

But, is this all that can be done?
To sit back and wait for action?
To roll up in fear and await our turn?
While politics and terror
play their terrifying games?

Songglod, Flickr

Praying for the dead, the injured and their families....
(The Hyderabad bombings on Feb 21st 2013)

Gone Wild....

Has the world gone wild?
I wonder.
The wild west
an enchanting obsession
long long ago...
today, playing wild,
letting senses run haywire
is normal order of the day.

Wild animals,
their beauty, their mannerisms
a charming conception of natural nature.
Man, an unique clever mimic,
owner of the the sixth sense
permits passionate wild wilderness
to seep into his muddled mind
destroying all in his path.

I love the wild, the wilderness
as nature is just being itself.
I love the wild streak
in people
who know what it means to be human.
Wild is fine when it adds that dash of charm
to a persona precious, with pure perspective
who knows how to tame wild wishful vision....

Wild Picture Credit

For THEME THURSDAY for the Word WILD

Life, a Circus...

When as a child,
I laughed,
the world transformed into a cheerful circus
and all the people clumsy clowns!

When as a child
I wept,
my life was an overwhelming ocean
whirling waves sweeping me up and down!

The laughter,
the tears
all but temporary hurdles
in my path of innocence then.

Today,
when I laugh
I laugh less at myself
more at others.

Today,
when I weep
my tears drown
others too in my real or imagined grief.

How I wish I was that child again,
laughing and crying all at once
enjoying life as it was meant to be
for all to share, you and me!

for the prompt that appears in an untitled poem inscribed on the face of a clock in Chester Cathedral, England

CARRY ON TUESDAY