Water

water

The flowing verses in my mind,

gliding gloriously to bring gaiety to the grind,

surging in my heart to ebb out from thoughts,

meandering through the lanes of emotions,

splashing music of deep devotion,

a life serenading through the poetic streams,

where every end marks a new beginning of dreams.

.

Fire

 

fire

Farcical words to humour my seething anger,

a hug to subdue the burning ember of emotions,

a kiss to douse the searing flames scorching the heart within,

but the inferno in me refuses to die as it scintillates a spark of glow,

flaring the exasperation that devours my existence.

why? oh, why! such resentment that had inflamed my mind,

but the long-forgotten reason that irked the fire in me,

had scorched the world that I love.

Moment

 

vladimir-kush-surreal-art
vladimir-kush-surreal-art

Colourful thoughts merging with profound emotions,

Emotions, brewing love in the heart, stirring romantic notions,

notions, of willingness to traverse the globe for you,

you, for whom I would trot to destinations unknown too,

too sure, for even in darkness as a light I will embrace you,

you, for whom I will be shielding illusions and mirages, for my love is true,

true, when I’m with you, time frantically sweeps by,

bygone woes scintillate a shimmering ray of hope on our side,

side us with those long-forgotten wishes and unfulfilled desires,

desires, that lie in our hearts, as precious sapphires,

sapphires that seduce the time to halt, and savour the moment,

a moment of sobriety, bliss and for those that we missed, an atonement

atoned, as we conjoin to create pure love that paints our thoughts colourful.

A part of me…

mother

My heart filled with boundless joys and qualms,

When I first cradled you in my arms,

The cherubic face, fingers and tiny toes,

I had yearned for long to see those.

All those prayers invoking the heavenly abode,

Finally heard and on me, a blessing they bestowed.

To nurture, care and to love you as a mother

and embark upon a journey together.

But when you stand on the shores to face the world beyond,

with arduous obstacles and wavering mind to respond,

Remember my son, be strong, for you were born from a woman

resilient at the core, undeterred move on, for you have in you 

a part of me to summon.

TODAY’S SPECIAL: THE URBAN DELIGHT

coffee-rum-edit

Along the serpentine railway tracks lies my quaint little apartment, a building that has seen two decades of rain and shine. There is a stillness in the street. If not for the constant chugging from the other side of the fence, the quietude of the street, leaves me bewitched. My neighbourhood is a far cry from the usual hustle bustle of the big metro city where it is located. Nestled in a corner, the lane is quite an enchanting place, with rows of trees on either side, nothing short of a boulevard. It houses many old buildings that are aging gracefully like an old actress. The buildings, with its peeling paints and withering facade, has an antique semblance to its demeanour.

When I walk down the lane, the mouth-watering aroma of dosas made in sesame oil to theplas fried in dalda wafts out from these buildings and lingers around the lane. The residents are a mix of Gujaratis, Tamils, Marathis and Malayalees.goan food Many of the apartments are mostly occupied by the Goan Christians, who with a charming smile, always welcome you to their homes. These families have passed down their alluring persona to the newer generations too. Even a ride up in the lift to the top floor where I dwell, it is an aromatic adventure. The appetizing whiff of frying fish, currying chicken, sizzling samosas, tingles my nose and teases my appetite. When it is time for Christmas, the entire building smells of freshly baked cakes made from raisins that have been soaked in rum for months. Fresh, traditional Goan snacks, exceptional in taste and aroma, comes knocking on my door on Christmas Eve. A day, I gleefully leave the front door open awaiting the fresh delicacies from next door. Be it Diwali, Pongal, Id or Christmas, food is exchanged among the residents. Amidst the laughter and relishing the flavours from different states, it’s like being a part of single family unit. Religion is reflected only in their names and customs; not in their heart or mindset. They have embraced the maxim, ‘one world one family’ to spread the aura of love and friendship. It is this love and oneness that is being exchanged along with food.

Be it an occasion to rejoice or mourn, food is an integral part of the Indian society. It defines our norms and customs irrespective of the disparate culture. In this milieu, food has been used as a medium to communicate. I remember when I moved in, I greeted my neighbours with hot drumstick sambar and crispy dosas. In return, I was treated with succulent soft doklas  with tangy tamarind chutney. Since then, it has been a journey of snacking different kinds of food in vivid flavours, seasoned with a pinch of love.southindian_food1 If the lunch is exemplified by the spicy flavour then the evening is marked by a unified aroma of masala chai emanating from all the apartments. It’s a mandatory evening ritual in every home, for every Indian. A beverage that has become an elixir to end our day; no matter which part of the globe we reside. A drink that has unified even the Indians residing abroad. Inviting each other for a hot stimulating cup of tea accompanied by bhajjiyas or pakodas, helps them to bond. A concoction that has sparked friendship and sowed unity among us. A habit passed on by the British to which we couldn’t say ‘Quit India’.

Friendship brewed over a cup of tea, lasts longer. Being a newbie in the neighbourhood, I was invited by many families for a rendezvous of evening snacks and sweets. It is this friendship, that developed over a period, had me rooted in this place. The aroma of companionship build over a platter of Gujarati sweets, relationship bonded over sumptuous Goan savoury and the love exchanged over lip smacking traditional Maharashtrian meal, makes it a charming neighbourhood.

My grandma always says, “It’s the seasoning that accentuate the flavour of the food”. I discovered that seasoning is nothing, but a pinch of love!

 

 

 

esprit libre

 

with no rules to shackle her mind         woman libre

 meandering thru life                                                                        

 heart and soul entwined

fire in her eyes push her to strive

to show the world her strength and fervour

for she is a woman, she is esprit libre.

a dash of confidence, a colour of pride

the beaten track beckons her to ride

but the heart sings a different tune

of the maids of yore who trod on thorn strewn

Path, across the ocean and the mountains far

For she is dauntless, she is esprit libre