A Wish


When unpacking the Golu-bommai dabbas that had descended from the attic, opened a box that contained few old books and diaries gathering dust over the last few years. I found a notebook in which I’d penned some poems during school days. There were some thoroughly kiddish ones, most reflecting the mood in keeping with those times, few too philosophical (:)), some childishly delightful or sad ones! Sharing one from that collection which I think I wrote like about a 150 years back!

To be a star

The rag-picker


A narrow road from my office leads to the main road. It has a few shops and houses and there isn’t much traffic. As I was walking out of the comfort of my office, I saw a small shabbily dressed child running around with a stick in one hand and a big plastic bag on the other. He must have been around 3 or 4 years old. I smiled at him but he blushed shyly and turned away. A few yards away from him were two old people – rag-picking. They seemed to be the little boy’s grandparents or care-takers!

The boy suddenly yelled out to the old woman saying “yen amma odi pochi” (translates to : my mother ran away), and giggled! The rejoinder from the old women was worse. She said, “neeyum odi po. andha odugali dhaane unnayum pettha” (which loosely translates to – you run away too! after all you were born to that ******)!” My jaws dropped. A tiny little kid announcing the news of his mother’s elopement like some movie to be telecast on TV and a 50+ year old women venting her frustration at a 3 yr old child! The gap between our world and that of this trio’s is so wide that I doubt if it will ever be bridged! I felt the divide even more as I stepped into my home to cuddle my little ones, unwilling to let them out of the tight embrace….

And this incident reminded me of what my sister wrote a few years back on seeing another tiny rag-picker:

    Dear rag picker

What are you made of
Dear little one..?

I saw you by the lane
squatting near the pile of waste

Busily fishing for iron pieces
With a long cane, enough to touch the earth,underneath.

It touches me deeply, I am wounded to witness,
The true color of life, yet, I know its real!

The bright ray of hope in your eyes
As they sparkle with each iron particle found,

The entire pile you sell for a meagre penny
And then feed your half-dead family?

When will this end? Will this?
Can I carry you away, far away from this bitterness..

Are you soldered like iron,to be this,
Tell me, what are you made of, little one?

-by Nithya Chander

the journey


This is just the beginning,
Still a long long way to go,
In this beautiful journey called life
Whose start and end we do not know.

Oh but! there has been
Several twists and turns
Some ways too narrow,
Few too wide and sudden!

Just when you thought aloud
Yaay! I’ve almost reached there!
You discover the road has thrown a teaser,
Ahead is deeper curve to negotiate!

You still go on for by now
You have met most of them:
Love, mirth, pain, sorrow,
Birth, death, today and tomorrow.

And look forward for more to follow
For somewhere on your way
You unearthed Friendship,
The kohinoor of treasures.

With friends for company
You can cruise a desert or river
Who cares where you are going!
As long as you enjoy the journey
Which I wish goes on forever.

Wish you and your dear ones a very happy journey through 2010 and all the years to come! HAPPY NEW YEAR!!

Friend


Festivals usher-in a lot of cheer and good will and the world around you looks all so positive, progressive, and more beautiful. And reminds us all of a good friend lurking inside us whose existence we often forget..

Hear your friend speak:

I come.

When the tides rise high
Drawing that mighty line,

When the chill wind blows
Piercing your cheeks,

When the Sun is high
Sweating your energy,

When there are loud thunders
Deafening your ears,

When there is a mighty pour
Drenching your soul,

When the night gets darker
Darkening your ‘dare’,

When the daylight is too bright
Burning your eyes,

When dark clouds hover above
Glooming your mind,

When it snows madly
Coloring your face white,

When the two of you quarrel
Tearing each other’s love

When ridden with sickness
Spelling the doom,

When ‘people’ leave you
Deserting forever,

When borrowers quit
Leaving you in debt

When the world breaks loose,
Making you helpless,

I come!
I’m your Friend!
I’m HOPE!

Wish you all a happy, safe and colorful Diwali!

Little Flowers


Little flowers,
Crushed by heat,
Not of the glowing Sun,
But the seething fumes
Of sub-human wrath
That tears the soul

To prove the might!
Devouring peace of hills
And of vales
and still claim its right


Oozing from a thousand eyes
Tears tainted red
smearing the earth alike
engulfed in burning clouds
burying so many
killing the dreams
severing the petals,
stealing the home,
of the Little flowers


Eternity it seems!
When you can sow another seed
in the tarnished land
To see it grow
With eyes full of hope
To lift the gloom
Restore Peace
And
See the Little Flowers bloom

The Magic


What is it that he has
that i do not have,

What is it that I have
that you do not have

What is possible by him
Is possible by me.

And what is possible by me
Is possible by you.

What really matters is
What you and I want!

To him, a pinnacle is home
For you, home is the pinnacle

To him, being successful
is the pinnacle tip
For you, being happy is.

Success and Happiness!
Are they one and the same?

If different, how is it?
If same, why is it?

All Successes are not happy,
Happy ones seldom see success!

Magic lies with the other genre
That is both!
Successful and Happy!

Get in there
And see what it is.

A perfect blend
of both these ‘things’.

The feeling is great!
So Wonderful that
it makes me sing!