NICEF

Friday 11 December, 2015

Finding the Elusive


I believed
the ever-elusive happiness
would find me
when I would receive
the mum-in-law’s love,
a love that would desperately replace
the searing ache I felt
when I heard the words Mother’s love.
I hoped to finally be cherished you see
by someone who would see more than
just faults and defects
and a table to unburden load upon.
I hoped they would see my warmth
and recognize the depths of my passion
and proudly highlight my achievements
instead of disapproving glances.
And when this didn’t happen
I lost all  hope.
And that’s when
While wallowing in my misery
with the force of a butterfly wing
you nudged me
and then encased me
in the whirwind of your love,
my beloved, my paramour, my all – my divine.
It was you I had wanted and needed
all those years ago and still do.

My mine. 

Her Own Person


Misfit
misjudged
abandoned
sent away
cornered
raped
left to die,
she fought back
with every broken bone
till she could heal enough
to stand on 2 legs
and become her own person:

SHE.

Sunday 6 December, 2015

A-tempting Fate











With faces of stone
Seated comfortably where they are
Like Ganapati and Siva
They declare fates
And we the hapless people
Are forced to run in circles
As per their dictums and laws
That make sense alone
In a universe they alone know of
Till either our backs or our brains
Give in
And we too join the long que
Of those awaiting their fate.

Tuesday 27 October, 2015

Retreating to the hills

     Vagamon was not one of those trips I was sure would happen but it did, and it left me with a sense of achievement. This was my first long drive as the sole driver and I am proud to say I completed it with not so much as a scratch on my Asta. The days spend at the Kurisumala Ashram would make the trip more than worthwhile.

      We left Kottayam by about 11 a.m. Asta had 3 passengers on board – me, my friend and her daughter.  The drive was pretty straightforward with few complications on the road. The roads were pretty good for Indian standards except in a few places and there were ample signboards indicating we were on the right track. We drove via Ettumanoor to Pala and from there took a turning towards Eratupetta. At Erattupetta I must warn drivers to be careful because the roads are bad, but more than that the drivers I came across were rather reckless. We took a slight deviation at ----- accidentally but saved a kilometre in driving and got an amazing river view.

The river view

     From there we went onwards to Teekoy after which we began our upward descent towards Vagamon. The young man we asked for directions had confirmed we were on the right road. The traffic was sparse and the roads though curvy were beautiful. My friend snapped very few pictures as she was busy admiring the scenery. I did stop on the way at some point to take a few shots and saw some other bikers doing the same.

     We thought we had overshot our destination. But at Spice Garden, the roadside restaurant where we stopped for lunch, the waiters confirmed we were yet to reach the place and would come across the arch to the place in about 2 kms. We had vegetarian meals for lunch (we’re all veggies). The view of the mountains from between trees complimented our simple food. The avial, they served with the food was rather different and tasty. We resumed our journey and my friend soon spotted the arch. We confirmed directions at the shop opposite and began the climb to the ashram.

View of the mountains from the restaurant
     We were stopped by the security guard at the gate but on being informed we had prior permission he gave us directions on where to park and then let us in. Asta made the climb slowly as I wanted to enjoy the beautiful view as well. Tourists are not allowed to take their vehicles inside and so we passed a lot of people on foot. We reached the parking area after almost making a wrong turning. The mists were beginning to form and the view was already amazing.
We had to wait to meet the priest who was arranging our stay, as he was in the midst of prayer. So we took a quick peek at the gardens and admired their beauty. We then went back to the main building of the ashram that housed the chapel and decided to spend some time in prayer. I guess I was easily noticeable with my denim jacket as the priest tapped me on the shoulder and beckoned me. He explained our living arrangements for our brief stay. He asked us to take tea with everyone before going to our rooms. We got a glass full of tea and a slice of homemade brown bread, which was refreshing.

Flowers near the pond

     A nun showed us to our rooms and after a quick freshening up and a few minutes rest, we decided to visit the library, both of us being bookworms. My friend and I were already awed by all that we were seeing. We went and sat in the library and I found a book that took up my attention. The library was small but focused and in no time the 3 of us were totally immersed in reading. My friend and her daughter decided to go for a walk and I opted to stay on and read.

     Soon it was time for evening prayer and we joined the others in the chapel. The evening prayer was different from the rites I was used to, combining a bit of the Indian with English prayers. It added to the overall mysticality I was already experiencing.

     After prayers, dinner was served Indian style on the floor. We sat on mats and ate from steel plates. The food was simple – rice, chutney and beans (payar). But despite the atmosphere of silence we couldn’t help silently mouthing to each other – Yum! It truly was the tastiest simple meal I had eaten. After lunch we moved to our rooms and decided to retire early.  We realized we had forgotten about Satsangh (Bhajan session). But decided to skip it as I had a long day and just wanted to read and get some sleep. I didn’t sleep too well though because something kept crawling over the tarpaulin above my bed and I’m scared of rats and other creepy crawlies of the night. I finally switched on the light and crawled back under the mosquito net that my friend had put up in case something fell on me.

     I woke shortly after 3 a.m. and realized I could attend the night vigil. So I got dressed, left a note behind and went up to the chapel. Following the vigil was meditation after which there was mass. During meditation period I wondered where the priests had disappeared to but realized later that they had gone off to get everything ready for the mass and the ensuing breakfast. I know this because when I went to drink some hot water I saw priests in the garden with a torch, picking flowers for mass. My friend who had decided to return to the library said that a priest had come there and baked bread for mass on a stovetop in the room.

     The morning mass was altogether an interesting experience.  To me it appeared to be a mix of the Syro-Malabar rite with Indian elements. Sitting on the floor cross-legged for most of the mass including the priests, doing rituals of pooja, prayers that were combining elements of different faiths: the blend of all these Indian elements made the experience a beautiful one for me. If not for the leg cramps, I think I would have enjoyed it even more.

     After mass we proceeded for breakfast – homemade bread and peas curry, with herbal chai, yummy of course beyond bounds. The priest had asked me when we were leaving and we had said soon he had told me that he would inform the abbot so that we could meet him before we left. After breakfast we were shown into the priest’s room where he asked us about ourselves and our stay and then gave us his blessings. We thanked him for everything as well as the priest who had looked after us. After returning the book I had taken, to the library and asking for permission to take pictures, we took our stuff and left it in the car.
View from a window

     Then we decided to look around before we finally left. The fields and plants certainly enthralled us and this photo enthusiast took several pictures. My friend’s daughter and I visited the stable s of the farm and saw some of the cows that had made the dairy farm famous. Almost all of them had already been taken out to the pastures for feeding and so we saw very few of them. The day we came we had already seen how the milk was being packed using a special machine.

Cows grazing

One of the cows we got to see up close

The milking station

     After looking at the cows we decided to begin our return journey. Feeling sad we could not spend more time there we began our return drive, stopping several times on the way back through the ashram premises to take pictures. We also waved goodbye to one of the kindly fathers we saw on the wave. The return journey was pretty uneventful except for the near crash I had with a distracted driver who probably thought the road was his property and so could drive up either track irrespective of my blaring horn.

View from the ashram

     We did stop at View Point to take some pictures and my friend finally got her ice-cream. As we sat eating ice-cream we saw a group of kids with teachers stopping for breakfast. My friend was most pleased to see them bringing out steel plates instead of paper ones. She got a chance to speak to an adult in the group and commended them on their environment consciousness. It was a Sunday school class and they too said that it was because they had not wanted to spoil the environment like most tourists.


Ice-cream finally

Asta takes a break from driving

     The rest of the drive was uneventful. We did stop at a tiny shop on the way called Arun, to pick up some snacks for those back home. Too soon we found ourselves home, with some snapshots and memories to remind us of what we had experienced. 


Monday 12 October, 2015

All beefed up


We argue debate bicker dispute
whether the man ate beef – or not
whether those literary awards should have been returned
and had they really deserved them at all.
We talk about freedom being infringed;
conduct debates on national media.
The people responsible fly worldwide
meanwhile
and propagate other ideas for developing India
while the hungry and poor drop dead like flies.

(A comment on the recent murder in Dadri)

Tuesday 8 September, 2015

Bend, Broken


At first glance
simply an old large cane.
On close examination
I could see scars
from the beatings, life had given it
and discoloured spots
from years of indiscriminate use.
It had been bend
from the force of people trying to break it into two
yet it still hadn’t broken
at least until now
because now I could see a crack down the middle-
someone had at last succeeded

in giving it that final blow.

Tuesday 18 August, 2015

Nightmares of the New Night time Driver



Glossy roads from heavy rains
Car lights that poke you in the eye
Men that cross the road for you to hit them
Tottering drunkards all Hamlet- like
Wannabe drunkards who park in d middle of the lane 
Bikes overtaking u from both sides
Buses that insist they scrape u as a gift
Potholes that appear from nowhere


- to cross or not to cross
so they can grab their night bottles
Cars that decide to rush before you 
as soon as you try to get on the main road
What wonderful Indian roads!

Thursday 14 May, 2015

The Wild One


She wanders like a gypsy

her heart firmly planted

in the loins of the earth

her spirit soaring through the wind

like a Sufi dancer in a trance

her smile as bright as the sun she faces

her clothes as brightly-hued as the Amazon forests

her hair, mangled with joy, tears and freedom

her mind – soaring in the heaven she sought all these years.


That’s the gypsy I found in me.

Thursday 23 April, 2015

Body Shop Sale

My body
-the one I was born in -
is not my own.
Women decide
what it should be draped in.
My husband decides
when it must submit to his will.
So when I speak about
my not-my-body body
I say:
Caters to all your whims and fancies.
In the colour and style of your choice.
Also can be tailor-made to suit your requirements.
Available for sale by marriage.
Will easily support your entire family & children too.
Free maid service for a lifetime.
Only maintenance charges to be paid.
And easily disposable after validity.
Make it yours today -
My not-my-body body.

Wednesday 4 February, 2015

When things change


That movement in the corner
that was her
weaving her cocoon of forgetfulness
in nondescript white
enshrouding her
till a shaft of light
poked a hole right through
and then another 
and then another.
The cocoon fell apart.
She gazed in wonder
at the surrounding light
and the tears began to flow
because the light had been
the kindness of remembrance
the kindness of a stranger
the kindness she thought she had long lost.

(I recently experienced a week of kindness from various quarters and this is the result)

Thursday 15 January, 2015

Classroom Drama

(Written after a few supervision bouts in the examination halls)



Under my scrutiny I notice:
Eyes doing a 360 in their sockets
Gazes at the freedom beyond the grey door
Sights set on the trees outside,
as their papers remain blank
A face intently dramatic with exam fever
despite the fact that the face will be visible again
the next time the exam happens
The wandering eye continues to wander
And the women fall under its scrutiny
A pair of eyes that cannot be even bothered to acknowledge the supervisor
while another attempts to steal a gaze at the nearest answer sheet
A myriad eyes that focus intently on the desk
as they attempt to write their futures.