55 WORDS FICTION

The best gift a father can give to his kids is love their mother' and he had believed it with all his heart. He himself, a product of a broken home, wanted his son to have a home full of love, laughter and faith. He treasured her, pampered her, showered all his love and care still she dumped him.

Angelic face of her  sleeping son and the crestfallen, hunched figure of hubby haunted her conscience but she snubbed it. Opened the door of the luxurious limo, threw a  tantalising smile towards her companion and slipped on velvety seat. Closing her eyes she inhaled the perfume. To trade her epicurean indulgences for duty, no way.

Stings of  jealousy she  bore looking at her friends enjoying the pleasures and luxuries while she, a motherless child squirmed under the stringent rules of her strict disciplinary father,  has poisoned her heart. She has not abandoned her family as much as she has taken vengeance from her father. phew for the morals and ideals.

Cradling his son in arms he wondered what crime has he done to deserve this. Despite irresponsible behaviour of his parents he handled himself in a mature way. He discharged his duties properly. Should life not be led by the book of rules? Burying all his frustrations he once again rose to the occasion .

Standing away from the crowd at cremation ground she saw both father-son after twenty years. She came to know about her father’s death from obituary column. She watched her son performing the rituals solemnly and for the first time in life she experienced a bond of belongingness to her father.  Redemption of both father and daughter.

FOR BINA'S CHALLANGE ,LOOPING IN THE GIVEN WORDS,IN MAY 2011,LUCKNOW

   

MY GOLDEN TREASURE

Yes, all that glitters is not gold but all that is gold definitely glitters. Well, what is Gold other than that precious, most malleable and ductile metal. Why, consider that river of molten gold of  Wordsworth's daffodils stretching  up to miles and miles swaying gently, dancing rhythmically  with the wind, enriching Wordsworth's  moments of solitude with a splendor which I definitely find impossible to capture in words. Like him we all have a treasure of certain golden memories which when brought out from the deep recess of the heart light up our world with splendid  resplendence, bring out a smile when sad, reinstate our faith when we waiver. So, here I am with few of the golden gems of my treasure.

 It was that office hour rush time. A busy square of city. At the center of crossing stood a dry fountain encircled by iron railings/fence.The hot summer morning of North India.Traffic from all the directions passing in a disorderly erratic way .Every body was in a hurry. The bikes swished away, hoards of six seater and autos zoomed in and out in a haphazard way. City buses were trying to make their way with a grunt, huffing and puffing. Nobody wanted to be distracted even for a fraction of second. Everybody was in a hurry to reach the destination. I was sitting in one of the six seaters. It was waiting for other passengers. Suddenly I saw him, a man perhaps in his late thirties. He was tall, must be about six feet, well built. His attire and looks suggested that he must be hailing from nearby rural area. He had a girl of about 14 years in his arms. Her one leg was fully plastered, a boy of about five years was clutching his dhoti. He was trying to cross the road. With every passing vehicle he moved unsteadily trying to save his girl's plastered leg from getting hurt, ensuring that the little boy is safe and at the same time balancing the girl in his arms. He definitely needed help, but nobody seemed to even register his presence. I thought of getting down and help him to cross the road but then the keys of branch and cash keys weighed heavy in my purse. Those days I was posted in a rural branch and had to change  six -seater at three places to reach the branch. I will certainly be late if I got down. An image of crowd waiting outside the branch put shackles on my feet. Then those two young boys of about 14 years or so walked from behind our vehicle  with their school bags on their back and stood near it. They looked at the struggle of the man. One of them nodded his head. The other, though willing said, 'we will be late for school and then will be punished. The first one weighed the probability in his mind and then with a shrug of shoulders and that big bright smile said, have we never been punished before for our own carelessness and naughtiness so one more time...........and both of them crossed the road towards the man with confidant strides. Eighteen years have passed after this incident but it is fresh in my memory. The boys not only helped that man that day, they have handed over to me a source of joy and faith forever.

One more incident I remember. Almost thirty years has passed after this. For a short temporary period I taught in a nearby intermediate college.The section of 12th standard I was entrusted with had  number of girls who failed to clear their exams in earlier session, but these girls were really diligent. I encouraged and appreciated their efforts a lot. After mid term exams I was distributing the examination note books to girls and appreciated this girl a lot. I had marked her steady progress and her hard work and was really happy that she could score the marks competing with the brilliant ones of class. After the period I was in the staff room when I noticed this girl lurking near the door of the staff room. Guessed that she wanted to talk to me. I was alone in the staff room at that time. I called her in. She entered with bowed head. I was puzzled to see the sad expression in her face. She should have been very happy as today she was appreciated and  received applause in the class. I asked her if she wanted to say something and here is what she said, 'Miss, today you appreciated me in the class but I don't deserve it. You have so much faith in me I could not deceive you. I was feeling guilty. In fact I copied two answer from Supriya, who was sitting next to me in the examination hall. She extended the note book towards me, 'you can cut marks for those two answers. I shall be accepting this before whole class but I can not deceive you. you have always believed in us and I can not malign that faith'. For a few seconds I was non-plussed. The enormity of the sincerity displayed by that young girl filled my heart with awe and pride. With her courage she has entrusted a life long responsibility to me...to own up my mistakes with dignity. I hugged her and said, 'my dear girl, you deserve far more accolades and applause than what you got for those marks. I am blessed to have a pupil like you'. After that, so many times in life people have taken advantage of my trust and faith in them but every time that haloed face has beamed through the hurt and helped me to continue my faith in the intrinsic goodness of the human heart. 

I want to hug those kids whereever they are but most of the time the memories of those moments embrace me when I need the strength.

FEB 2011,LUCKNOW

  

EXPERIMENTING WITH HAIKUS...

 Honestly ,I don't know whether these can be called poetic expressions or not but I am here all the same ...............

 

                                                                              1
                                                              serene acceptance
                                                              restoring equilibrium
                                                               calmness pervades

 

 

                                                                            2
                                                                 awaken outlook
                                                                exploring abilities
                                                               reinstate faith in self

 

                                                                               3
                                                                uncluttered mind
                                                              control over emotions
                                                             walking to true and pure

(all pictures courtesy n copyright :  sunder iyer  )


OCT 2010,LUCKNOW

MERA WALA AMALTAS...

 I feel i have already shared with you my love for this tree.Since my those dreamy days of teens I have been madly  in love  with these golden bunches.So when we purchased our own home ,we planted this Amaltas sapling in front of our home.It grew to be a big tree.If not for high voltages electrical wires ,it would have become a real huge tree .But as is the case,come rainy season and  we have to get it cut.Despite that every summer it was the oasis of our street.A relief to eyes and soul during hot scorching afternoons.
Last August when we shifted back to our home after a gap of five years,I was pained to see the condition of my Amaltas.It was as if butchered .When needed we also used to get it cut but with proper care,the branches properly trimmed giving it an elegant  and proper look.But in our absence it's head was completely chopped off.Thin fleshless branches from that point were running hither thither ,as if in a desperate attempt to run away from that falling axe.,crying for help.
I was pained to see it's condition ,will be an understatement.It practically tore my heart.How I wanted to assure it that now I am here and everything will be fine once again. But looking at it i myself was not very sure.Then there were my neighbours ,who whenever found me looking at it said nodding there heads sadly 'namita the tree has perhaps dried up.for few years even leaves have not come up properly what to talk about flowers.'Somewhere deep down a voice cooed.........
though leafless
almost motionless
it's not dead
life runs
deep down
perhaps waiting silently
for the clock to run full circle.
I arranged to get the place below it cleaned and started watering and caring it besides sending my silent pleas to it.People noticed my efforts, they understood  my feelings also but in their a kind of sad and reluctant smile i could sense that they want to tell me that my efforts are futile. None of them had a  heart to voice their opinion openly, though some of them expressed their apprehension that watering such a big tree ,whose roots have gone deep down the earth does not make much difference.
 And then that morning, few weeks ago, i saw  two tiny bunches of yellowish green balls hanging from a branch.The balls were not yet open .Sprouting from that  stark naked tree those fragile bunches were re-instating my faith. My happiness knew no bound.It was coming alive.Now it's flowering like never before.This is the species of Amaltas which have more leaves than flowers not the kind which  is laden with only golden bunches.Earlier also it never bloomed in such  abundance though flowered every season.This time it's different .every branch is wrapped in golden yellow hue.every morning walker throws a glance up and feel refreshed.Smile of my neighbours have broaden and they openly proclaim,'dekho tumhara ped tumhare laut aane ki khushi mana raha hai'
We really feel welcomed back home.every morning when i threw the curtain open It reaches out to wish me a good day.Even with a soft touch of wind the flowers cascade down in rhythmic motion.Watching that mesmerizing view in blazing afternoon is akin to be part of a celebration.Part of road and the ground below the tree is carpeted with five petaled golden flower.The tree has made my days poetic and nights dreamy.
Here is mera wala Amaltas to wish you all a very happy summers-----

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 लो फ़िर विहंस उठी 

डाल अमलतास की

छलक उठा रस 

बात बीती प्यास की

अंग अंग रचे छंद

सुनहरे सपनो के संग

ठिये पे छांव तो, फ़िकर किसे

जेठ के ताप की

आने लगे सब इस तरफ़

सज उठी मेरी गली

बासंती होठों पर 

धुन थिरकी प्यार की

(all pictures by sunder iyer)

MAY 2010,LUCKNOW

ME BOUGAINVILLEA AND RADDIWALLAH..

Today  morning i was on my terrace with a cup of tea,enjoying the fresh breeze .The days have started becoming pretty hot but mornings are still quite refreshing.Did I hear a few of you muttering under your breath that mornings are always refreshing. No my dear, here in north in summers there are days when even early mornings are very hot and sultry.

Now I started straying even before I started writing. Let me try to catch the slipped thread. So, I was on the terrace. The usual morning scenes are morning walkers, kids cycling and of course Raddiwalas. Here we don't have shops to sell old newspapers and magazines. For two three hours in the morning many Raddiwalas take rounds of colony. One such man turned at the corner of street calling out in his usual high pitch voice. Nearing my home he slowed down the speed of his rickshaw. As I have not heard any of my neighbors calling him, I thought he was about to ask me whether I have old newspapers to sell. He stopped a few paces before my gate and climbed down his seat. Now I was watching him with a bit of curiosity. What happened next............

He took his mobile out of his old, somewhat torn trousers and....and clicked the Bougainvillea stretching on the boundary wall. This creeper of bougainvillea with profusely blooming bright magenta colored flowers is really a beauty. The color is so amazingly transparent bright and the flowers bloom in such abundance that my whole street appears to be full of hope and brilliance. After clicking the pic, he silently rode his rickshaw and paddled away quietly. Not even for a single time did he shout in his hoarse voice, till he turned at the other corner of the street. Was he in awe of nature or the beauty of Bougainvilleas casted a spell on him and he did not feel like breaking it's serenity.

Somehow his action made me very happy. I felt tiny wee hope surging inside me. Moreover I felt a kind of kinship with this man. So many people live in that street and so many more pass through it daily but seldom have I noticed anyone glancing towards it and never have I seen anybody to stop by to admire it's beauty. Here was he capturing the moment for keeps.

All of us have that innate sense of beauty.We feel happy to look and feel beauty in any form but we have buried that sense so deep down and immersed ourselves in the mundane affair with such zeal that most of the time we miss out on such moments of happiness.This Raddiwalah also must have his own share of worries and fights for survival still his sense of beauty remained awaken .He knew how to find moments of pure joy midst the drab daily routine.He also showed respect towards nature.He made me promise to myself that now onwards while passing through the busy city streets ,I shall be in look out for the glimpse of green leaves peeping through certain balconies ,tiny colorful full flowers on a window sill.We have already hurt and neglected mother nature a lot.It's time to show our gratitude in whatever ways we can.

The innate sense of beauty in a human being is related to the innate goodness in all of us.Let us nurture it.For keeping the daffodils alive one don't have to be Wordsworth always ,sometimes a Raddiwallah can also do that.

                      

When Divya was writing the comment ,I was exactly busy in getting done what she wanted.In fact Sunder was not at home at that time and I posted the blog in a hurry.Luckily he entered immediately i posted the blog.He clicked the pics for me..........Can't bear any body else's pics on my blog......LO....

MARCH 2010,LUCKNOW

LOVE IN HINDU MYTHOLOGY

Hindu mythology is replete with amazing love stories. Nowhere else have I found romantic love glorified and venerated in such pious and exhilarated way. Each of these stories depict varied aspects of love. The way these stories unfold the strength, the beauty and impacts of love not only on the individual but on the society as a whole, is really amazing. How our culture, faith and mythology eulogizes, idolizes this all-encompassing feeling, leaves me spell bound. Let us talk about a few mythological love stories.

 

Love story of Radha and Krishna is certainly one of the most enduring and immortal of all. This love story contains all the ingredients which could have made it the most disapproved affair. Radha and Krishna grew up in neighbouring hamlets. Even though Radha was married to some one else her love for Krishna reigned supreme in her being. Often neglecting the calls of duty she used to rush to be with Krishna. Krishna on his part after leaving Vrindavan almost never came to meet Radha. He married Rukmini and Satyabhama, yet Radha's whole being was infused with the love for Krishna. In my view this eternal love legend conveys that facts and statistics of a love story might be totally against the accepted social norms but it's the purity of emotions, the transcendental quality of love which makes it worthy of devotion and reverence. Radha's love for Krishna is akin to soul's longing to be ultimately submerged in the divine self. And Krishna, the incarnation of God, through  his deeds and actions made it clear to the world what does Radha mean to him. He, the supreme lord is subservient to her, to her selfless love. 

Radha, by surrendering herself totally to Krishna, glorified how one should give in to love and Krishna, by reciprocating equally, conveyed how the lover too should yield to the beloved’s devotion. On an earthly level we may conclude that there should be no ego between a loving couple. 

Then there are Ram and Sita. Unlike Radha and Krishna they are a married couple but their undying love and support as if thrives in separation. The periods of joyful togetherness and loving companionship might be sparse but there is no denying of their undeterred faith in each other. This is the love story where physical togetherness is sacrificed on the alter of duty. This kind of love conveys that sometimes for greater cause one might have to forsake the pleasure of the company of the person one loves. One has to bear the agonies of abandoning the one without whom one can not bear to think of one's existence. But then love and relationship between a couple is also a part of the bigger scheme. Besides this the story of Sita and Ram also talks about anguished human heart and reveals that pain, anguish and hurt are parts of life.

 

The love story of Shakuntla and Dushyant is mentioned in the great epic Mahabharta.  Dushyant was a king and Shakuntla, daughter of a sage. She was exquisitely beautiful. The story has a very interesting side plot as well.

Shakuntla was offspring of sage Vishvamitra and apsara Meneka. Meneka was sent from heaven to earth by Indra to entice and thus distract Vishwamitra from his tapasya.

Dushyant saw Shankuntla midst blooming flowers and green shady trees of ashram of the rishi. Well, cupid was sure to strike. Both of them fell in love. Gandharva vivah followed. After the honeyed period Dushyant returned to his kingdom, giving assurance to send an envoy to fetch his paramour. While departing he gave his signet ring to Shakuntala. Now a long wait starts for Shakuntala.  She got pregnant but due to the curse of sage Durvasa to her, king Dushyant forgot all about his meeting and marriage with Shakuntala. She visits king's court but he failed to recognise her. On the way Shakuntala had lost the signet ring. Every thing was happening under the impact of the curse. After a long time, the ring was recovered from the stomach of a fish in king's kitchen. What a dramatic twist of fate! The ring was shown to king. As per the clause of Durvasa’s curse Dushyant remembered everything as soon as he laid his eyes on the ring. He searched all over for Shakuntla and ultimately he was reunited with his wife and son Bharat. Happy ending!

The story of Nala and Damyanti, from Mahabharata, is also a story of several trials and turbulations but ultimately love conquers and the separated couple meet to live happily ever after. In this story of a beautiful princess and a handsome prince, the swan played as cupid. Gods and goddess created many obstacles by trying to trick Damyanti at swayamvar, where all the devtas presented themselves disguised as Nala. Later on destiny designed Nala to loose all his wealth and status. But Damyanti never wavered. Surmounting all obstacles love conquers.

Above all is the love story of Lord Shankar and Devi Parvati. Not a love couple in traditional sense of the term but this is the couple living and reliving their togetherness for many lives. This transcends the limits of life and death. Their companionship celebrates equality and inter-dependence of man and woman. For Parvati it was not easy to win over the divine ascetic Shankar. She did tapasya under very tough circumstances but ultimately she won over him. She is a beautiful affirmation of positive women power.

There are other love stories woven in the tapestry of our mythology that unfold varied vistas and aspects of love. But each of them declares in unison that love can also reach an exalted level and it may infuse in us an uncharacteristic strength and courage to survive all odds. In its purest form love is akin to divinity. When we love someone more than ourselves it is uplifting. It is unifying.

(Disclaimer: all pictures from internet.)

IN FEB 2010,LUCKNOW

CATCH 22....TAG GAME BY KALPITA

Well ,Kalpita has pushed us in that whirlpool of thoughts.The bitter sweet experiences of love...........to love and being loved is definitely a beautiful mix of contrasting feelings...............and each of it true and honest................

'na jao sainya,chhura ke bahiyan................' and 'jate ho jane jana,aakhiri salam lete jana.............' both the songs are different in mood and lyrics but the love and longing in both the songs is so perceptible.

There are days when it's like walking in a beautiful garden ,midst blooming flowers on a sunny day,arms in arms ,sharing all the worries,basking in that feeling of being special for some one.No difficulty looks big enough ,no obstacle unsurmountable.

But then there are rough thorny patches as well.We feel desolate,unhappy,lonely,as if groping in darkness.Nothing seems to work right.It's within reach yet we are unable to touch it.How can this be possible.That heart overflowing with love ,that concern...............how can it be blind to other's pain and torture.Mind is so full of confusion and heart as if is being shredded into pieces.

It's not only the new lovers' first argument but  even those who enjoy  a harmonious and lasting companionship experience the see-saw of the emotions.

It is often said and believed that in love one partner is always more sincere rather more invested emotionally than the other.The one who is more in love occupies one down position.but i feel  this can not be a static situation. In most of the cases both the partner are equally involved but then time to time depending upon mood and situation this one up and one down position is interchangeable.

Ever played tug of war ..........what?you feel it's all about who is more powerful .Do you think it's all about taking control.............no ,man...............one is drawing other with all the might towards oneself..............closer to heart.Well.that's love.Apparently some actions and reactions might look cruel and rude but may be the lover is trying hard to convey entirely opposite . Sometimes we hurt them most whom we love most.

Pleasure and pain are like two sides of the coin of love.Sufferings and hurt are an essential ingredients of love .Can we recall any love story without pain,without suffering.Still we long for love.To love and long for love is very humane.No ecstasy can evoke that rapturous mood if we are ignorant about agonies.All the roses come with thorns.

so in love we are always in that catch 22 situation.but who bothers.....jitne bhi tu  kar le......sitam,hans hans ke sah lege ham................and i know those who have enough love sustain through the paradox of love rather love gives power to walk through all  the rough patches,to conquer the unsurmountable.

 JAN 2010,LUCKNOW

WISHING BEST OF 2010

Hi Friends.....................today we attempted to make our first power point presentation.assembling sunder's pics and few quotes.Well.after few failed attempts that was done successfully.Now ,we were eager to share it with our sulekha friends.How to upload that presentation on sulekha.After trying and retrying we at last were able to upload the video of the presentation but then we found that the text was so small in size that it was almost impossible to read it.hence uploaded all the pics with text as well as the video.Now friends  ,you all have to devote a little bit more of time as reading and listening have to be done separately...............

i know ,you will do that...................after all it's our first attempt and you will like to encourage us..........hai na......promise we will not be attempting it too frequently..............

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

wish you the best in 2010

loads of love and cheers

namita

sunder

DEC 2009,LUCKNOW

WILL THE CURTAIN RISE...

Entering the room she threw her purse on bed and peered through the window parting the curtain only a little bit.Dark coloured ,heavy ,impenetrable curtain on the window of the cornor room at the ground floor of house at the back stared at her with a stern ,grim look.A sigh escaped her lips ans she slumped on the bed.She was feeling very tired and depressed today.Looking at her colleague's mutilated body after the accident she was flooded with the horrid memories of the day ten years back.No,the memories had never left her but with the passage of time the crushing pain turned into dull ache.today the wound as if was bleeding afresh.

She was a lively ,bubbly sweet natured girl.Life was simple and fun.Parents,books and friends completed her world .Things changed the day she entered Madhavi's drawing room.Madhvi has recently joined their college and quickly assimilated into her group. It was Madhvi's birth day.All decked for a party the girls    entered the room laughing ,full of mirth.  Her eyes fell on the picture on the corner table and refused to leave.She instantly felt  connected to the boy    .He was looking dashing in his uniform.All other girls also started      ohh and ahhing on him but she felt as if that naughty smile on his lips was for her only. He was Madhvi's elder brother.She never experienced such turmoil inside.  She was flabbergasted  by her  own condition.How can it happen.Can a mere photograph has such magical impact.It's not real .It happens only in fairy tales...................so many thoughts collided with each other .but the feelings inside her were too strong to let any reason stand on their way.She went on with her routine in a normal way but nothing was same after that.Her world has changed.Colourful dreams have entered to paint her world rosy.Her rides with him on his bullet motorbike were so vivid that she could count every jolt and bump.she remembered every curve and stretch of road.Sometimes the intensity of feelings frightened her.

She tried to reason with herself but the feelings refused to go away.Rather they became stronger with each passing day.She never let any one know about her feelings .In fact there was nothing to tell.Who could believe that such strong bond can be felt even without meeting the person.Slowly and very cautiously she became Madhvi's best friend.Without asking too much questions she knew all there was to know about him.so much so that she could have told his reactions and views about anything.Yet she has not met him .He was posted some where near border and was not due home for another six months.

And then the six months were over.Madhvi was excited about her brother's arrival.Anticipation of meeting him in person   has set her heart racing but never for a minute she had any doubt about his feelings towards her.She as if knew that their fates were entwined.She wanted to rush to Madhvi's house the moment he arrived but she waited patiently .Madhvi's parents have arranged a small get together on their son's arrival and of course whole of their group was invited.She felt if not in a gathering he will see through her immediately .for the first time she wanted to meet him midst the crowd of other guests.

The evening arrived.She put on her peacock blue skirt with black embroidered top.She knew the sparkling neckline of that top sits prettily on her ,accentuating the delicacy of her collar bones.Standing on her heels she looked into the mirror and smiled satisfactorily.Her long glistening tresses were cascading  below her waist.The tiny locket,the intricate anklets and sparkling danglers were complimenting her persona.She took out the neatly wrapped gift packet from the almirah.She was eagerly waiting to see his reaction.The packet contained two cds with his most favourite songs,from his childhood to this point.She has got them recorded in chronological order.She was sure the effort can not escape his attention.

She was humming while driving .That tightening in the pit of stomach had to be pushed in the back of mind.She reached the intersection where five lanes converge.she saw the red light and was to put her foot on brake when she caught a glimpse of the bike approaching from left side ,about to cross the main junction.It was he .With a sudden rush of emotion and confusion she pressed her foot but the car as if flew with a jerk and hit the bike with a force .He landed on the other side of crossing legs under screeching wheels of a vehicle from opposite direction.Her car also landed there throwing her nearby.She lost all consciousness as her head banged on road.

Even before she fully recovered her parents left the city.She never came to know how the things were managed that no action was taken against her.She was devastated.was this the way their destinies were to be entwined?That strong pull she felt ...........was that a warning?so many questions assaulted her.She withdrew into her shell.She was sinking into a deep pit of numbness but her urge to know what occured there after saved her.She dared not talk about it but then one day she willed herself to broach the topic with her mother.

Ma,did he.....?

No ,He is alive but both his legs had to be amputed above the knees.

Silent tears rolled down her eyes.

How she longed to be on his side.Not only because she was responsible for his this condition but she still felt that pull  towards him .yet she knew she can now never go near him.she could not face Madhvi and her family.

Years passed and she gathered courage to be back in the city.She has joined a firm there and deliberately hired this small room .The land lady was surprised by her choice  of the small back room while the front sunny rooms were also available.but her quiet subdued persona led her to believe that she prefers solitude.

Now every day she lives for those  hours of night when the curtains of his room are drawn .The whole room is wrapped in the darkness except the glow of lamp on the table  where he sits on his chair checking the sheets and preparing notes for next day lecture.His coaching classes of science subjects for the students of 9th to 12th standard are quite a success.Students tell that when the doors of lecture room are thrown open sir is already seated on his chair with a big covered table in front of him.

She sits near the window, her room utterly dark and caresses  that curly crop of hair  bent on the table with her glances.Though darkness prevails on both the sides,she dares not throw open the curtains of her window fully.She does not know but he is not completely unaware of that shadow lurking behind the window of the first floor of saxena aunty's house.even after he switches off his table lamp and Badri Kaka helps him to his bed ,he can sense two eyes fixed on his window.

something deep down in him tells that the eyes belong to that lovely face landed beside him on that fateful day

can the  curtains  be thrown open.....................will the shadows ever emerge out of darkness............................

STORY WRITTEN IN DEC.2009,LUCKNOW

REMEMBERING 'SULEKHA' FRIENDS...

For a long time I have been very irregular in posting blogs. Nothing unusual, we all have certain busy periods in between and go missing for some time. After shifting to lucknow i was also busy for sometime in the usual chores of settling down, rearranging home, meeting friends etc. but after that somehow or other a kind of lethargy set in. I visit here, read friends posts, give comments, posted two blogs in long intervals but regular writing is not being done. No it was not deliberate but an inertia has gripped me .Perhaps I needed a push to gain momentum and I did get that. Panchali dear, if not for you this post would not have been here at this time.and then there was MU telling me that it's my 100th blog so it should be something special. What can be more special than  this sulekha world. The relations we build here, the feeling of being wanted, being missed ,we get here. Nothing can be emotionaly more enriching than these precious bonds we make here, so I dedicate my 100th blog to the wonderful relationships we make here, the friendship and that bhav of bandhutva
दोस्ती
दोस्ती किसी सूफ़ी फ़कीर का चोला 
जिसकी फ़िटिग का कोई नम्बर नहीं होता
जो दीवानगी का फ़्री साइज़ होता है
जो तन के चीथड़े चाहे न ढक सके
मन का लिबास अवश्य बन सकता है.

this verse by Manjeet Tivada says it all about this beautiful relationship.
I am writing the poem in roman for the friends who find it difficult to read devnagari but can understand hindi.
dosti
dosti kisi sufi fakir ka chola
jisaki fitting ka koi number nahee hotaa
jo deevangee ka free size hota hai
jo tan ke cheethare chaahe na dhak sake
man ka libas avshay ban jataa hai.

The debate between the real and virtual is an ongoing one. How safe are relations from virtual world ? Can virtual be real? and so on. People have their opinions according to their own experiences but I feel it to be very real. We meet people here, build relationships, some of these wither away gradually and others become stronger and deeper with the passage of time. It happens in real world as well.
When I started my journey in sulekha, I was in pune. I did not have any friend circle there, the society we lived in also did not have many families living there, most of the flats were occupied by young boys and girls who left their flats by 8o'clock in the morning and were back by 9-10pm. For the whole day I used to be all alone on my floor with the plants and flowers of my society and books....and then sulekha happened.
I entered hesitantly, taking small steps,  knocking at doors, getting acquainted and then leaving after keying my comments. Then those visits started getting mutual and few of them blossomed into wonderful friendship while I still miss some of the once regular names, yash chhabra, melody queen, bhavna are few of them.
My bond with panchali, I firmly believe Ma wanted it to happen, till march 2009 we both were regular visitors of each other posts but had not talked or even exchaged notes. All our communication was through comments only, but even through exchange of comments one could feel that slight change in the comfort level and intensity of feelings between us. Panchali at that time had recently shifted to calcutta and fortunately I was to go there to attend my son's convocation ceremony at calcutta. I was to be at the city only for two days and of which a day was to be spent at the campus.
I never thought that I could meet her in that tight schedule. In fact I did not think of meeting her as I did not know how far she lived  from the campus and  moreover I didnt want to bother her by asking her to come over to meet me as she herself was going through the process of settling down there. I once thought not to tell her that I shall be visiting calcutta, but few days before leaving I had this sudden urge of visiting dakhineswar at Calcutta. it was a kind of sudden pull  I felt. It was so intense that I decided to go there. Who could tell me, whether is it possible to visit dakhineswar from zoka in that tight schedule. I didnt know how apart those places were. Then I dropped a note to Panchali. Promptly came her reply with her mobile no.and the wonderful plan of getting us all together. I strongly feel if not for that sudden pull towards Ma, I would not have dropped that note to Panchali. To me this friendship is Her gift to me and I value it a lot. Panchali dear, that evening spent in your cozy dining room with both our families together will always remain a special one for us. I can not thank sulekha enough for making this possible.
And then there is MU. I don't exactly remember how this caring, considerate and aesthetically inclined girl entered my world but she certainly is now a very important part of it.
Dr.Priya..........I have to mention her name without fail otherwise her screeching protests will follow incessantly. We share a relationship which gives her a right to get angry.
There are others with whom I feel attached in different ways at different levels. Meera, the sunshine of our sulekha family, madhvi, promilla, bina and nupur. I miss yashaswi's naughtiness nowadays and my bro prasad. He is also not to be seen here for a long time, the list is unending.
And there is this name which I deliberately saved for the end...........ehsi.........ehssas. We all know what a wonderful person she is. I feel blessed to know her.
Ehsi this one is for you. I wanted to write it on your birthday........
vah 
door se aati havao si hai
chupake se aa
gale lag jati hai
aahista se
vazood ka hissa ban jati hai
usaki beavaz siski bhi
mujhe sunai de jati hai
itna sukh bantati hai auro ko
ki
apne hisse ki ginati hi bhool jati hai.

I know it's not only me but all of us here share such wonderful bonds with others here. There might be some people who had certain bad experiences here but that one has to take in stride. Darkness walks hand in hand with light and I have all the light here. Thank you all. 

 

 

 

 pics by sunder iyer

WRITTEN IN NOV 2009,LUCKNOW

THATS HOW MOTHERS ARE...

For last one month i was away from sulekha.Reason.........my both sons are at  home full time.One busy with his entrance exams after his12th and the other one enjoying the break between completion of his educational career and joining the professional one. both are at the juncture of life where another phase of life starts. This has landed me in a whirlpool of mixed emotions.Perhaps every mother goes through it.Transition of kids from one phase of life to another leaves them struggling within.
Elder one completed his M.B.A. degree successfully and was to start his professional career.
We went to attend his convocation.Sitting there in the hall ,looking at him ,striding forward after collecting his degree , i was engulfed in an emotional tide..i felt proud.................these were those tiny steps i taught to walk . After completion of every faltering ,staggering step without falling down,his that hesitant smile laced with expectation of appreciation flashed through my mind. Now he has to walk on his own.i was happy ,i was proud of him but then why that tinge of little bit sadness.Was it that i felt him walking away from my world a bit farther .
He was in hostel for last six years.growing up and maturing away from home with the friends.Definitely there were parts of life, the treasured secrets i knew nothing about.There might have been tough times also in these six years which he faced alone or with the help of friends. But then why at this juncture i was a bit scared about him.Away from those protective walls of hostel he is going to be in that big bad world of professional rivalry,pressure of target achievements,meeting the dead line.i know this is the normal way of life and he is quite capable of handling these pressures but then why i wanted to protect him from all this.Were these my motherly instincts which with alerted antennae are always eager to pounce in between the child and any kind of hardships of life or my fear that now he will have a big world of which i will not be a part of.
No,i am not the kind of mother ,who keeps her kids so close to her heart that they start panting for breath.i always give them enough space.i respect their privacy and acknowledge their uniqueness.For that matter i value my own space as well .but then these feelings...............
i think motherhood at every point of time is strewn through these contrasting emotions.We want to pamper them but then we want them to be desciplined .We want them to be close to us but then we want to see them soaring high in the sky.Striking the right balance is what makes all the difference.
Ultimately the day arrived when he was to leave for his first job.all things packed,preparation done ,i had nothing more in my hands to keep me busy at that moment.i was sitting silently .he came and sat beside me.ruffling his hair i voiced my emotions to him.
'not you mom............'he said
'why not me.all moms feel like that for their kids how so ever well versed to the practical aspects of life they might be.it's not that i think you will not be able to tackle all those problems.in fact i know you can handle them in a far better manner than perhaps i can.Still if hardships are to be faced i will feel comfortable if it's i than you.i know we all have to bear our crosses on our own shoulders.i can not take off the burden how  ever badly i want it .But then all that knowledge can not stop me from feeling the way i am feeling just now.This you will understand when in this position yourself.'
His tight hug told me he understood me.i was relieved i did not want to be  taken as a fussy  unreasonably sentimental mother by my 23 years old.
'Hey mom, do you remember your kavita you used to recite to me from the age i even did not understand meaning of any word'
And i smiled...............yes he was correct. After his birth i wrote this kavita which i recited to him when he was hardly three months old.i recorded the moment in an audio cassette.punctuating my voice there are oos and aas of my infant son in the cassette.That was my weston tape recorder bought from my first salary. last time we listened to that cassette was when he was leaving for hostel after his 12th standard.
The lines echoed in my heart...............

neel gagan ke pakhi jaise
par failaye udana
hai nisseem dagar teri
tujhe na hai rukna

nahi hogi angna me bas
chandaniya se bate
aayegi maavas ki bhi
sooni kali rate
nanhe deepak se tum
ekakihi jalna.............

jeevan nahi hai keval
phoolo ki hi bagiya
kaanto se bhi bhar sakti hai
kabhi teri dagriya
chahe jaisa ho path
bas tum aage badate rahana..................

And here was i getting all worked up on his embarking upon journey towards a new phase of life.But then  that's how mothers are.............


written in may 2009,Pune

A ROSE IS A ROSE IS A ROSE...

My childhood memories of roses is dominated by our deshi gulab that too those two standard colours.............the red and pink and yes,those bushes were thorny. Those days a rose never came without a thorn as if spelling the philosophy of life. More than beauty desi rose was associated with fragrance.
With the passage of time, the rose has also evolved a lot. The thorns on stem has become sparse. The flowers with dainty curves and delicate curls  are like sculpted beauties. They bloom in almost all the imaginable colours. But one thing remains unchanged...............the romance attached to this queen of flowers. It invariably invokes the tender feelings in heart.
that day sunder captured some roses in their lovely moods. I now leave you with them................enjoy the beauty..............




whats the difference- love, calm and a rose....

“A single rose can be my garden...a single friend, my world.”

in rhythm...

“A relationship is like a rose, How long it lasts, no one knows."

drenched to the core...

"Love is much like a wild rose, beautiful and calm, but willing to draw blood in its defence."

eternity of silence...



gentle morning whispers...

"It is at the edge of the petal that love waits."

ready to party...


just friends...

"I'd rather have roses on my table than diamonds 'round my neck"

love lost...


the fire beneath..


smile of sunlight...

“The fragrance always remains in the hand that gives the rose."

hearts together..


friends forever...


the gentle touch...


joyful simplicity..


a contented soul...


a promise kept...


that long wait...

"Time brings Roses."

just ready to ring...

"Which is loveliest in a rose? Its coy beauty when it's budding, or its splendour when it blows?"

the bloom within...


love calling...


the breath of grace...

"Love Planted a rose, And the world turned sweet"
free to air...


a perfect life...


They reach out to touch us with all the tenderness of their heart and we enjoy a moment of perfect bliss.Hope these left you dreaming..............

WRITTEN IN MARCH 2009,ROSES CLICKED IN FLOWER EXHIBITION AT SAMBHA JI PARK,PUNE