Reshaping me

Reshaping me

On the beaches of my mind
Waves of thoughts wash ashore ceaselessly
Some carry away grains of self
Some deposit  residue of worldly desire

Others hollow out my ever shifting identity
Just enough to create tidal pools
That shimmer in reflected glory
Hold a bit of the sky
To know it's vastness by comparison
Ever changing , ever shaping , re-shaping
My image of myself

As I pray, that I may
In losing my self , grain by grain
Reshaping what remains
To offer solace to another's pain
Will one day reach the depths
Of the ocean
The stillness of my heart
To know myself
As you.

--shubha

Desire's desire

Desire's desire

Desire glides on moonbeams
To shower silver
On supple, rippling waves
Of darting silver streams
Of dark tresses
Of obsessive dreams

Weaves threadbare tales
Of panting longings
Held together by anticipation
In breath held,in gasps

Between the longing
And anticipation
Desire lives and dies
Many reincarnations

To burn on the pyre of fulfillment

Be the moon
Always a little out of reach
And I will live every moment
In the longing
In the perseverance
In the anticipation
In hope

--shubha

P.S. A few lines that came to me in response to a prompt on Shringar Raas on an online poetry group.

Beauty in spaces

Beauty in spaces

Barely present leaves
Leave exposed tree skeletons
Beauty fills spaces

-shubha

Nothing

Nothing

I have nothing to say about nothing
That masquerader , who needs
The very thing he negates

We open empty palms to say we have nothing
Even as we hold space
We examine hurting hearts , claiming we lost all
Even as we gather memories
We let go of past, pain ,declaring them to be nothing
Even as we gain strength, wisdom, experience
From the journey

Nothing gathers
Into his expansive fold
All negations

Yet like all polarities
Hand in hand with everything
Finds his refuge
In love

And serves his purpose
In declaring
Nothing else exists

--shubha

P.S. A few lines that came to me in response to a prompt on the topic nothing ,on an online poetry group, April 

Tracing memory

Tracing memory

Why try and trace the trajectory of a firefly?
Plot a graph of a relationship
As transitory as thought
Transient as us
Flickering, flaring , fading
Embers of memory
Why try to hold , evaluate, grade
Glint of golden shimmer
Evanescent

Except for those points ,
That is cemented in love
That leads us to love

What do we gain , tracing disintegrating plots
Of disappearing feeling
Over time ?
Except for those moments
Tacked into our hearts
By love

--shubha

I miss me

I miss me

I miss me
The me ,I was when we were us
The me, that spiraled around you
To dissolve , wisps of a self, smoke
Where neither you nor me were
Distinct from us

I miss me , that in losing itself,
Found me , a connection
That still tugs at snapped heart strings
A discordant note ,now
I miss, us

--shubha

P.S. Happy to share that this poem was awarded a place in a friendly competition on weekend theme of ,Anatomy of a breakup, on an online poetry group, April

Slow combustion

Slow combustion

Edged in flaming oranges
Red runs rivulets into green
Eagerly licking any residual resistance
To turn each leaf into a mottled
Love story of detachment,sacrifice

And fall lights each tree
Like a glowing sparkler
In celebration
Of slow combustion
Of the past
To ready for rest
And renewal


--shubha

P.S In response to a prompt on renewal on a online poetry group, The Woman Inc. Poetry project 

Composting

Composting

We trade in the residue
Of stale emotions
Spent , chewed out
Malodorous carcass
Of feelings
Well past
Their consumption date

Use this compost
To smear our lens
Of the world, black
Bitter poets ?
We are hawkers
Of curdled pain

And yet , with enough time
With enough patience
With the sprinkling of some love

Perhaps this compost
Of half digested truths
May help grow a flower
Of hope, of beauty
In the spent soil
Of another's mind


--shubha

P.S. Inspired by a searing poem titled Litany by Anu Mahadev , and old poem by my mother

I let go

I let go

Dressed in reds, oranges of mirth
I swirl , revel, in your coming, Mother
Or rather, my coming to you

With gratitude I offer
Fruits of this summer
Your love has blessed
Your bounty onto You

With understanding, I shed
In slow swirls
Flaming tongues of anger, passion, hate, despair
Browns of a withered past
That has outlived its' usefulness
To my growth

Swirl, by gentle swirl
I shed
By Your Grace
A little more of my i
A little more of the distance

Prepare for the serenity
Of tranquil rest
In the lap of Your name

With the promise
Of renewal
That come Spring
I will blossom
With your blessings
Spread Your fragrance
Dance with joy

I let go
Let go of all
But my faith
In Your everlasting love
In Your Mercy

--shubha

P.S. A few lines that came to me as a prayer  in response to a prompt on an online poetry group, The Woman Inc. Sharing on the occasion of VijayDashami

Dormant Volcanoes

Dormant Volcanoes

Read me once
Like the anticipation
Of a first kiss

Falteringly, shyly,achingly
Slowly, sweetly,longingly
Feverishly,impatiently, insatiably
Passionately, sensually, wonderingly
Tenderly, gently, tentatively
Lovingly

And then perhaps I will exhale
Let out this pent up longing
Surging through the recesses
Vents of long dormant emotions
And need to write no more

--shubha

Of butterflies and glass ceilings

Of butterflies and glass ceilings

For too long , we have flitted
In butterfly gardens
Dissipating color , hope
In controlled hot houses

For too long have we longed
For the clear blue skies
From underneath glass ceilings
Built , we are told, for our protection

For too long have we grubbed
Slaved, gathered, spun silk
For the comfort of our keepers
Flitted, fluttered for their entertainment

Open up those ceilings
Follow our erratic , ecstatic flight
Out into the endless blue
All the while keeping faith

That we will still pause
To shed color , hope in lives
During our own short-lived ones
That, we will pause to caress
Your fingertips with a brush
Of colored hope

And gather the warmth
Of summer days
In your rejoicing hearts
As you follow our jerky route
Upwards, onward
Towards the endless blue

--shubha


P.S A few lines that came to me in response to a picture prompt on an online poetry group, The Woman Inc Poetry Project .

Up-rooted

Up-rooted

Not all roots stay hidden, out of sight
Secure in earth's dark embrace, tight

Some defy norm, fly , spread, silvery white
On new found shelter,support, airy, bright

Draw nectar from the thin air, through sheer will
With cheerfulness for their lot , duties fulfill

Take little from their provider, where they have boarded
Pay their dues with blooming orchids

--shubha

P.S. For those migrants who set roots in different places. A few lines that came to me in response to a prompt roots on an online poetry group, Wordsmiths .

Do you see my roots ?

Do you see my roots ?


Do you see my roots?
In how I stand , stoop, bend, sway

Do they show, in my appearance
Like ribboned smiles of kindness
In the color of my many thoughts?

Do you hear them ?
As a whisper of truth
In the rustling of my speech

Do you feel them ?
As gentle caress of deeds shed
Or as the whiplash of a tormented
Scream in a storm ?

Do you taste the sweetness
Of their essence
In the fruits, I gift ?

This vast , invisible community
Of tangled, crisscrossing webs
That sustains me , nurtures me
Reaches relentlessly to quench my thirst
That binds me , anchors me
To a bedrock of identity

Between whose solid support
And my stubborn quest
To reach the sky
I find space
To grow, stretch, reach, fly
To spread
To find me
To be

Do you see my roots ?


--shubha

P.S. In response to a prompt roots on a online poetry group .

Home within

Home within

We do not belong anywhere
And we belong to all places
How can there be separation or meeting
When there is no other ?

Wayfarer, on a journey
To understand our own truth
What claim do we have to any place
What place, can lay claim to us ?

We belong to all places
And to none at all
All those places, we ever touched
That ever touched us
Reside within ourselves

We carry our home
Not on our backs
But in our hearts

And each moment, when we love
We return home
Each moment , when we desire,
We embark on new journeys
To find our way home


--shubha

Images

Images

I stitch myself together out of the many images

A glued together identity, fluid that stretches

Reflections of perceptions,grow, stay,shatter

Ever changing , taking shape of the container, as water

Bound, chiseled ,shaped by my multitude of desires

They rise like the Phoenix, burn in disappointments' fire 

Help cast away these false reflections  of a small, confining me

And in so shedding pretense , be one with You, bask in your glory.

--shubha 

Destination marked

Destination marked

Destination marked
Crossed in anticipation
Soar, set your aim high

--shubha

Mute songs

Mute songs

Blustery fall days
Whisk away leaves, my mute songs
Discards of time past

--shubha

Peresphone's return

Persephone's return


Glowing screens abduct
Young brains, lure them
With seeds of over stimulation
Prisoner to the stupor of excesses
Until they are queens of this alternate world


She lives there far away
Shedding innocence, presence
Along the way
Price of a fantastical occupation
Lost to real play


While Demeter searches high, low
For her little girl , lost to this world
Where neither the pleading, cajoling
Nor the threats , secure her release
Until the ultimatum


And then for a brief period
Her child is returned to her
She runs on the grass
Chases butterflies
Finds her innocence , her childhood
And the world rejoices
In their meeting


It takes love, a mother's steady refusal
To give up on the best in you
Her refusal to accept anything less
To release you , from the prison of your own fears, boredom
To put a spring in your step
To return spring to a waiting earth


And yet she returns to her glowing prison
From time to time, to queen over a new level
And her mother waits
Knowing she will return , for a while
To be her child again
To dance , bring joy, plenty
And mother, screen coexist in uneasy acceptance.


--shubha




P.S. Trying to describe a modern mother's frustration with a child's screen addiction , tying it to the Greek myth of Persephone , Daughter of Zeus and Demeter, the goddess of fertility who was abducted by Hades , the king of the Netherworld . Demeter wins her daughter's release for six months of the year and her coming is spring , but as she accepted some pomegranate seeds from Hades , Persephone returns to the Netherworld for six months when the plants sleep , awaiting her return .

Shedding

Shedding 

I breathe that amorphous scent

Rising from wet earth

Not quite of the ground

Nor of the water

But for the brief period 

Of their mating

I breathe

I glow in the last light

That kisses the trees good night 

In the slanting shafts 

Interleaving shadows

I glow

I unfold in every moment of beauty

Blossoming among the mundane

To transform it

In their meeting 

I bloom

With every whiff, every glint , every unfolding 

That reveals you

Reveals me

I clothe myself 

With just one more strand of your love

Shed one more pretense

So wrapped, naked

Soak in a sliver of the truth, highlighted.

--shubha 

Raas-Leela

Raas-Leela

It is but a fantastical,simple tale of lore
How Krishna multiplied to dance with Gopis, of yore

Of an enchanted night when they danced in self forgetful bliss
Wherever they turned , their beloved lord, could not miss

Of milkmaids, who by the dint of the devotion, simplicity
Transcended the delusion of plurality

And forgetting themselves , they saw the one, all around
How could it be otherwise , when naught, but Krishna, abounds

Through His divine dance of seeming plurality
He underscored the underlying oneness, unity

Yes, it is a simple, fantastical tale of lore
When Krishna danced with the Gopis of yore

--shubha

P.S.  A few lines that came to me in response to a prompt by the same name in a online poetry group.

Cloudy Drumroll

Cloudy drum roll

Dark clouds roll in
Rumbling drum roll
To announce the coming
Of the dark complexioned lord

The green earth rejoices
Sways in welcome
Dances as the Gopis did
Drunk on His love

The rain pours down
Like Meeras' yearning
For her chosen lord

Cleanses all the earth, my mind
Fills me with the divine music
Of the Flute player

With tiny steps
Come, step into my heart
And hold mine in your vast one
My Krishna !!

--shubha



P.S. For Janamashtmi

A Rakhi

A Rakhi 

Single thread binding
Holds together shared promise
Silken bonds of love

--shubha

P.S. On the occasion of Rakshabandhan, a festival to celebrate the bond between brother and sister. 

India

India

In uniting all under her loving embrace
New decade of freedom , new struggles, bravely face
Diversity of every religion, language, creed , grace
In God's loving sight , may she thrive, discord efface
A shining example of humanity, in every age, showcase


India, nation, of my birth , may you shine,new glories, trace

--shubha




P.S. On the occasion of the 70th anniversary of India's Independence Day .

The puddle

The puddle

With care the puddle collected
Each fleck of light reflected

To build its' own floating towers
Those citadels of office, power

Held on to its' truth , as it believed
It's being, purpose, accepted as revealed

Until cruel wheels of a passing cycle, as fate
Rent asunder this illusion, at a speed, great rate

And every collected drop , window, brick, flew
Momentary spray , dissipated as gray in blue

And so it is with every momentary truth we hold true,
Until we realize change is our truth, anew

That we are not the identities, we build, reflect
But a little bit more, than these illusions, suspect.


--shubha 

Crossing the bridge, twice - a story

Crossing the bridge, twice - a story

Don't cross your bridges before it comes

It started  as bawdy jokes, in jest
A separation between them and the rest
Was it the beginning of the end ?
Keep your head down, your business tend
Stick by your own,don't  let the insults get to you
Or parry them with your own, trouble brew
Don't worry your head, without reason, rhyme
Don't cross your bridges before its' time

Burning bridges

Then one day the dark clouds, rent all pretense ,asunder
Marauding mobs went about burning, to kill, plunder
Through the chaos , the stone bridge, proudly did stand
To help flee, now that they were strangers in their own land

Don't burn your bridges

They couldn't burn this one , of earth, stone
So many others were sacrificed,to our hate alone
The river swallowed the debris of the burning stacks
Drank all the hate , anger, piteous pleas ,to run black

Bridge the gap

Yet the bridge stretched stubbornly to hold both sides
Determined it seemed, this separation to  tide
Painfully stretching to connect those who had drifted apart
A mute question to the distance, division, in many a heart

Water under the bridge

Many cycles of death, rejuvenation it took to cleanse
The hatred, suspicion, wounds to heal , to shed pretense
Until, at last ,sense prevailed, to sign a peace treaty
And the bridge opened to both in mutual amity

A Bridge too far

As he hobbled across in great anticipation
Of what he may find of his home in trepidation
Home, home , home ? No longer did stand
Long gone, with time's shifting sands
He was a stranger in a strange land

Home. of his memory, lived only in his head
Bridges could not bridge time, years shed

Build bridges

Yet ,as he saw smiling young faces , cross the divide
He knew why the bridge spanned the tide
It could not return him to what had been
But could connect hearts to build futures, unseen


--shubha

P.S. In response to apicture prompt on an online poetry group

A duckling's dream

A duckling's dream

Through the reeds, a duckling, stared  in awe,
At this great, grand, gray bridge, he saw

Said he ,to his brothers , in delight
We could race under, won't it be a sight

It has arches for each and every one
We could swim under, won't it be fun

Enough wandering, came mamma duck's quack
Into the nest , be quick , do not slack

And remember when we swim tomorrow, a while
You will all follow me in a single file

So little duckling's plan, remained a dream,
There would be no races under the bridge, it seemed

But as they followed in a single file, mamma dear
How the children on the bridge, did applaud, cheer.


--shubha

P.S In response to picture prompt of a bridge on a online poetry group 

Epilogues

Epilogues

Unsaid adieus write
Long epilogues of maybes
Dipped in moist longing

--shubha

A path of cans and nots

A path of cans and nots

You can't do that , pricked like a shard
For a little girl, it is far too hard

Are you absolutely sure to want to try?
You will just screw up your face and cry,

Imagine !! It isn't what ladies do
Just toe that unspoken line, couldn't you ?

Decades , we spend un-knotting the not from can't
In testing our independence, we won't tire, shan't

Every cannot we will examine, the negative shred
With every can , ourselves build,with faith, forge ahead

Now,the can ,as wild blooms ,will soon spread
With the nots we will pave the path we tread

The future will have their own battles too
But perhaps,more of the cans ,the nots , just a few

We will traverse the path of cans , nots, with grace
Obstacles overcome, challenges embrace.

--shubha

Deep at the core of your being

Deep at the core of your being

Deep at the core of your being
Is that spark of the divine, all knowing, all seeing

The soul , shrouded in secrets of your heart
Whose intricate designs, you need to trace, peel apart

The ego ,that separates you from your truth,
That with satin lies, fallen from grace, you pamper, soothe

Whose anger at being slighted, love does raze
To fill your own cup , with ashes,a blue haze

With weight of the past, as it furrows your brow
Let it wither , this otherness, let it go now,

Water, nurture , grow the tree of love in the heart's soil
That no seething storm, no searing drought, will ever spoil 

The glow of knowing we belong in one another 
Together we prosper, in love grow, let go of the other.

--shubha 

P.S in response to a prompt on a Facebook poetry group, Wordsmiths 

Aroma of coffee - coffee stories

Aroma of coffee - coffee stories


On a visit to her friend's hometown
Three steaming cups of fragrant tea
On a pretty flowered tray
Carried by her roommate's smiling mother
Came towards her tantalizingly

But Ma, she likes coffee better
Blurted out her tactless friend
That's what she drinks every morning

Oh ! No I prefer tea in the afternoons
She said emphatically
Quickly breaching the awkward moment

She was particularly fond of neither
Coffee or tea
But how could she explain to her friend
What the aroma of morning coffee
Meant to her

How it seemed to waft in her childhood
The presence of Appa
Her earliest memories
Of standing in the early morning's pleasant chill
In the balcony with her dad
Before he left for office

The rustle of newspaper
Clearing of his throat
His voice,warm as the milk
She used to drink
His laugh , as sweet
The clink of his rings
Against the stainless steel tumbler
As he rolled it between his fingers
The smell, of his coffee

How could she explain
That her morning ritual
Of making, drinking coffee
Was a bridge to her Appa
As he labored overseas,
Many years now, alone
While her mother held fort here
To keep her brother, her
In the choicest schools
Afford them the best education
Pay medical expenses of her ailing grandparents

That the aroma of morning coffee
Wrapped in itself so many memories
A whiff of her parent's sacrifices


--shubha

Becoming us

Becoming us

In sunlit valleys
Of joy,camaraderie
We search,my sisters, I
For identity
For community

Questions scatter
On the breeze, that sighs
As we search for the we
Amidst the you, I

Purple , gray, our end looms
Mountain to the sky
Someday , we will all journey there
Crawling or chasing the butterflies

Then , through our linked hands
Understanding tingles
It is not about the end
Or the beginning
But the now, in belonging
In giving
In growing from the I
In becoming
Us

--shubha

The coffee date - coffee stories

The coffee date - coffee stories

Wet towel on the bed, again

She had grown tired of telling him

Twenty years and counting 

Some things never change

She thought irritably

Eighteen years had flown by

As their son grew

School, soccer, piano practices, work

Vacations, trips, little sicknesses, visits

Filled their lives to the brim and over

Now, kid in college , 

All that time 

They did not spend together 

Engrossed in their sons' upbringing

Stretched through empty evenings

To fill the yawning silence

In the house

Distance in their hearts

Empty-nesters was a scary thought 

They would have to live with one another again

Could no longer hide behind schedules

Learn to be alone without a third presence

Learn to converse with one another, again

Renegotiate new routines

Now the email cursor blinked

Stressing the question,

Whatever possessed him

To suggest meeting for coffee ?

Why not ? ,she shrugged

She got off work around four,anyway

Sent off a syllabic ok 

Close to the meeting 

She felt the butterflies of anticipation 

She had forgotten 

How this had been a weekly ritual

Before their son arrived

Coffee was actually pleasant

She had completely missed

His rekindled passion for gardening

Never thought he would find

Her new found interest in natural remedies, engaging 

I could just about live with him, after all 

She smiled to herself, bemused

As they left the cafe

--shubha 

The secret ingredient- coffee tales

The secret ingredient- coffee tales


He heaped the best Colombian
Coffee powder into the tiny percolator
Looking rather lost among
A range of discarded coffee makers
Abandoned in his quest
To regain coffee,his mother made

Almost two years
Since he had first bagged the prestigious US project
He adjusted, delighted in most things here
Freedoms, processes, conveniences, opportunities
The wide open, natural spaces, infrastructure
Everything,except the coffee

After struggling with thin, lukewarm bitter liquid
Artificial non-dairy creamers
That passed for coffee
He had begun experimenting
At home with different coffee makers

He soon discovered the cappuccino,
Mocha, expresso, latte ,the french press, Turkish coffee
And thankfully, a local Starbucks
For his daily caffeine fix
But his Amma's filter coffee
Remained elusive

She had even sent him her own powder
And a 110 volt ready percolator
A product specifically made
For the NRI market
Through his cousin

And yet , the coffee didn't taste the same
Coffee, milk , sugar in proportion
He mused exasperated
What else did his mother add to his coffee?


--shubha

Satisfaction

Satisfaction

Sate the restlessness of great variation
Arrive at the place of synchronization
Temper the desires of greedy ambition
In contentment ,find our destination
Surmount suffering with an accepting disposition
Find joy in the trivial, everyday condition
Act to blend thought, word,deed in unison
Condition the mind to look for joy in every action
Treat others with kindness, compassion
In others' success , find our own redemption
Offer grateful prayer with supplication
Negate envy, with happy submission

Satisfaction, in a restless world, so hard to find
Is the gift of a subdued mind

--shubha

I wait for you no more

I wait for you no more

I wait for you, no more
Not in languorous, lazy afternoons
Drowsy in its' warmth
Not in the long, scented nights
Awake to their own beauty

Not even as I watch
A single dew drop
Gather in itself
Hold its' world together
A moment, a breath
Before falling
To it's end

I wait for you, no more
For what can you bring
What can I give
More than what we have exchanged ?

The knowledge of being worthy
Of love
The promise of growing in it

The warmth of memories
To blanket our days
When the creeping vine
Of cold loneliness
Strangles our hearts

An introduction
To that part of us
Hitherto unknown

So with thanks
I watch you go
To your own destiny
And wait for you, no more

--shubha

Hot Coffee -coffee stories

Hot coffee - coffee stories

Traveling to a famous temple

A little family stopped along the way

Do I have to come? , she asked petulantly

There is a little coffee left in my flask

I can stay in the car, she said

Athai, it would be cold now

Do come to the restaurant with us

The children are hungry, cajoled her nephew

Tightening her sari pallo over her shoulders

She stepped in hesitantly

Taking in the large space,

Hustle ,bustle

With wonder

Would you like something to eat ?

I won't eat until after the darshan

You know that , she chided

Just coffee for me

Your sister has promised to have dinner ready

It is a good thing,she lives close to the temple

The waiter, a young man

Carried over the large order smartly

Set down her single cup of coffee

She stared at her cup

Reluctant to look up

A young widow

All her life, she had waited on others

First her father,uncles

Her brothers,cousins

Then nephews,nieces,grandnephews

Always having her coffee

After everyone was served

It was generally deflated, cold

Lukewarm if she was lucky

Having a strange man

Waiting on her

Was alarming

Uncomfortably luxurious

She slowly drank the piping hot coffee

Having satisfied herself

That it was a vegetarian restaurant

Back in the car

So much money,she lamented

If I had known,I would have made dosas

Before we left

You do more than enough, assured her nephew

I wanted you to have the experience

What did you like about your first trip to a restaurant?

Well, the coffee tastes different, she paused

Much better,when it is hot.

--shubha

Sweetness of coffee- coffee tales

Sweetness of coffee- coffee tales


Sunday afternoon stretched
With silence of the afternoon siesta
Baby finally asleep
A lull between meals ,
A pause in the hustle,bustle
Of a joint family

So different from afternoons at home
As a only child,a nuclear family
And yet,she loved belonging to this large,loving clan
A bride, few months old
Though she may be
Siblings,sharing,teasing
Longing of a childhood,fulfilled

Nearly three, put down her book, yawned
Soon her mother in law would carry
Steaming coffee to Thatha, the family patriarch
Tiffin time in the Iyer household
Never began without serving him first

A frugal, religious, reserved man
Intimidating, for the respect he commanded
Afternoon coffee was his one indulgence
He looked forward to
She could hear him shuffling in his room

She peeked into her mother in law's room
Who was lost to the world, in deep sleep
She had been up with her sister-in-law
And the baby most of the night
Something in the kindly face
Reminded her of her own mother
Quietly resolved to make Thata's coffee

Entered the kitchen with some trepidation
Through her many degrees,
Cooking had always come second
Filter kaapi , an art form
In many South Indian households
Was not her forte

A couple of tablespoons coffee powder
Heaped ,packed but not too tight
Came a vague memory in her mother's voice
Add the hot water and wait
For it to percolate

Heat the milk ,watch that one
Came the memory of her grandma's laughing voice
It is very naughty, likes to boil over
When your back is turned

Filter Kaapi finally ready
She went quietly to Thata's room
Amma is tired , still sleeping
She murmured to a surprised Thatha

With a small,shy smile

Appa,I am so sorry, I don't know how I overslept
Her mother in law came in quickly
It is all right, the child has already taken very good care of me
You rest, you have a lot on your hands

With a grateful smile,a quick caress
Her mother in law bustled out
To get tiffin ready
For her large, hungry brood

Thatha finished his Kaapi with a smile
Was it all right ?, she asked
I have never made kaapi before
Tumbled out the confession

Very good, very good for first time
Next time,sweeten it with some sugar
As well as your smile
He replied quietly
Twinkling at his granddaughter in law's aghast face .

--shubha

Ram Navami prayer

Ram Navami prayer

Beacon of righteousness, in the dynasty of the sun
Calmness of the moon, coolness of water, the compassionate one,
His life, troubles , forbearance, lessons in conduct,begun
Through adherence to one's dharma, is how the battle won
Discipline rigid, follow duty until the task is done
Forgiveness vast to encompass all, never shun,
By whose name , a thousand prayers are fulfilled , hopes spun
Lead me to you , my refuge, ever loving one

--shubha

Tamil new year wishes - 2016

Tamil new year wishes - 2016


Under the one eye of the scorching, yellow sun

May the Neem, flower, bitterness from hearts,shun

May the mangoes ripen, life with sweetness run

May the riches bring plenty, blessings by the tonne

May the Jackfruit sweet, make time fragrant with service done

May the mind's mirror always reflect, the One

New beginnings , new hopes spun

Wish you a happy new year, everyone




--shubha

The Hawker -more coffee stories

The Hawker -more coffee stories

Steel drum filled with piping hot liquid
Brown , with cream , sugar
Shut tight, pick up firmly by the handle
It swung with a familiar burning sensation by the calves
Ignore, pick up the paper cups
Game face , alert

Incoming train announced its own presence
By a long, shrill whistle
Mumbai-Chennai express
Two hours late, as usual
A good time , nearly tea time

Long green engine pulled in
Car, after car of rusty red
A mad scramble by the porters
To the few figures with luggage
Allow them to descend

Then the cries rent the air
Chai , chai, chaiyya
Vada, vada , vada , vada
Sandwich ,saandweech

He raised his voice
Coffee, coffee, coffee bolo
Hot coffee , 10 Rs a cup
Running down the platform

Hey coffee , here, came a voice
Two cups , said a plump man waving change
Balance the scalding drum on his thigh
Pour out two cups , pass it carefully
Through the window bars

Hey, you want some coffee
A young man in the next seat
Asked his friend ,lazily
Sure said one , then two more
Two cups ,no no make it four,no six

Signal had turned yellow
He hurried
Pouring out cup after cup
Counting under his breath
Last one passed, lurched with the train

Ouch ! You oaf ! You burnt my hand
Sorry !Sorry ! It was ten cups sir
Ten cups ! it was only six
You burn me and then demand money
Please sir.. It was ten cups
I am a fair man , I will pay for six
Not a paisa more

He was jogging to keep up now
The boy dipped slowly in his fat wallet
The bills fluttered tantalizingly
He put on a spurt of speed
Reaching , reaching

The platform ended abruptly
Train chugged on unfazed
The note bills withdrawn

Left behind
A steel drum considerably lighter
A stitch in his side
Residual bitterness
Of coffee he had not drunk

--shubha

Flying sunsets

Flying sunsets

On spreading wing tips
Tired sun hitches a ride home
Pays in streaks of  gold

--shubha 

Picture Credit : Vidya K

Coffee date -the wait

Coffee date -the wait

First five minutes

Came in agog , bouncing on his heels
Early,find a good table
The one in the corner ?
She would miss him
In the center?
No too open, too eager
Ah ! The  one off the side,perfect
Still early , might as well order a cup
Did not want to  look like he was waiting

First order
A coffee , cream, sugar on the side
Check watch
A few more minutes
Almost time
Came, passed
No sign of her

Second order
A coffee , hold the cream
Maybe she was just a little late
Did something happen?
Would she call?

Check watch
Look to the door
Repeat

Third order
A coffee, black
Of course , she was not coming
Not for him
He felt a fool
He was a fool
He wished the dark, bitter concoction
Would swallow him whole ,instead

He could not bring himself to leave
Then suddenly, a tinkle
She was there, smiling
A little flustered but perfectly coiffed
He thought randomly, foolishly of angels
So sorry, my meeting ran late

Fourth order
Two cappuccinos
Cappuccino? He never drank cappuccino

The rest ?
He doesn't quite remember
It was lost to the froth, warmth
And the caffeine rush

--shubha

Gudi Padwa wishes

Gudi Padwa wishes

Generous, be the blessings, in the new year

Usher in joy , health, abundance, cheer

Deepen faith , turn away from fear

Inspire to new heights, soar skies clear

Prosperity , peace , plenty all appear

Always with a smile, passing troubles bear

Dance, sing , meet ones near, dear

Welcome all, may differences disappear

Abound in joy , love, light in the new year

Wishing all a happy Gudi Padwa, new year

 With goodness, grace, may we all cohere.

--shubha 

A Coffee House story

A Coffee House story

Fans whirring ,spread the heat evenly
Long steel tables,colorful plastic chairs
Hustle , bustle

Men in their office shirts , sweaty
Open at the collar
Women with big plastic baskets, cloth bags
Vegetables for dinner
Fanning themselves with the end of their saris
Children squirming in their seats

Waiters, pencils behind the ears,
With trays ,dirty dish cloth at the hip
Idli, Vada , Bonda , Dosa rent the air
As they recite the menu at top speed

Two filter kaapis ,shouted to the kitchen
Steel tumblers slop water on the tables
Kaapi arrives in steel tumblers, davaras
Piping hot
Sipped noisily , clink of rings on steel
A constant whirlwind of activity

A disheveled boy in rags
Sidles up to the entrance
Eyes on the colorful jars full of goodies
Near the counter

Customers who notice ,quickly avert their eyes
A waiter flicks his dish cloth at him
He moves out of range of this taunt
But hovers around , an ingratiating smile

Satisfied bellies pay,leave
Brisk legs carry out voices
Complaining about work
Chattering groups enter, leave
A buzz of constant movement
Hungry eyes wait

A lone man, in rather dirty shirt
Scrounges up change
From his empty worn wallet to pay
For his own kaapi , and a sticky bun
For the little boy
That all see
That all try to ignore.

--shubha

A cafe story

A cafe story 

Dark interiors, color of coffee

Spindly tables , bright chairs

Cushy sofas, the lone rocking chair

Ubiquitous cardboard coffee cup

Smell of fresh coffee

A cheery barista

A couple chatting quietly

A business meeting in another corner

Others mostly alone

Their faces lit up in an eerie glow

From their laptops

A few with their noses in a book

A young college girl

Slouched in the darkest corner

Sweats , lanky, disheveled hair

Over her face

An insipid textbook

On the table,unopened, ignored

A cup ,growing cold

Likewise ignored 

Texting furiously

Her abrupt rise

Flinging down the phone in fury

Blind blundering to the restroom

Tissue to her eyes

While the abandoned phone

Vibrates, dances a jig on the table

To an upbeat ringtone

With unfeeling gaiety

--shubha

The conduit

The conduit

Unstopper my heart
Let love flow through
Wash away the stains of envy
Bend the weeds of my pride to your flow
Fill the holes of hurt with your nectar
Let me be what I was always meant to be
A conduit
To let love flow onto itself

--shubha

Twilight of doubt and faith

Twilight of doubt and faith

To the famous shrine of lore
Thousands came with their pleas, galore

On the tired feet of faith, arrived the streams
With a silent plea to fulfill , their whispered dreams

Others came to give thanks for blessings received
For dreams fulfilled , successes achieved

Claustrophobic ,pressing crowd that pulls, trips
A frightened child , carried on my hips

My own faith ,prayers dissipate, unroll
To escape this roiling human sea becomes the goal

As I stumble, fumble on my way out
Brother in law returns to chivvy me about

In the middle of all this panicked chaos, pressing
A blanket over our heads in forced blessing

A priest materialized in the crowd, blessings to render
Demanded money for the services tendered

I left the shrine with strange disquiet
Wondering at my own shaky faith, flight

Guilt niggled at the doubts that arrayed
Microcosm of true faith, piety, greed, pomp on display

But peace descended with the twilight
To blanket the valleys, hills in fading light

Allowed me to pray on the quiet ride
Collect blessings that on every evening , glide

A lesson in doubt, faith, enlightening
Yet received from the shrine, some peace as a blessing

--shubha

Spring sweetness

Spring sweetness


Blue skies steal licks

Cotton candy cherry blooms

Taste of spring sweetness


--shubha

The swinging question

The swinging question

World away an empty swinging swing
Reminds of another
Blood spattered
Smeared by hatred
Poses the mute question

Will we allow , once again
Terror reign in our hearts
Allow the hijackers of faith
To rewrite our history
With the blood of innocence
And their hate

Surrender our faith
Deny it
Allow a hateful narrative
To define it

Lose love, compassion
To judgement ,petty squabbles
Over  superficial differences
To apathy and denial ?

--shubha

P.S. After the horrific terror attacks at a Children's park in Lahore on Easter Sunday.

Holi wishes

Holi wishes

Happiness, with colors, may it alloy
Overspread all with spring joy
Let go of past spats, differences destroy
In renewal, rebirth, let us grow, prosper, enjoy.

--shubha

Pic credit : from the Internet 

The bather

The bather



Awakening trees
Stretch, yawn, shake off winters' sleep
Bathe in morning light


--shubha

Woman , who are you ?

Woman , who are you ?

For far too long, man has longed to answer
Define this unfathomable mystery
Tried to capture her fragrance
In perfumed romance
In words , labels , purposes
For her being
In his image

For too long , women have longed to answer it too
By rejecting every limiting label
Testing their strength
Proving to themselves
And others
That they refuse
To be defined
In any image
Yours or theirs

How can any number of labels suffice
To describe that spark of the divine
That is your truth and mine ?

Woman , who are you ?
I am a traveler on a journey
To understand my own mysteries
Even as I reveal some
And leave you more
That you may always know
Mystery of magic and love

--shubha

Mirrored selves

Mirrored selves

Have you ever seen yourself
In the fitting room mirrors, reflected by the hundreds?
Looked into the eyes of your multitude selves?

Sometimes admiring
Sometimes critical
Sometimes encouraging
Sometimes aloof
Sometimes engaged, enthusiastic
Sometimes bored
Sometimes simply staring
With compounded curiosity

Did you leave them behind there
Or do you tote them with you, now
The price tag of a new dress?

--shubha

Words

Words

Formed of nebulous, shifting thought

They traverse this half substantial space

Gather form and flesh in sound

And roll of my tongue with ease

Some stumble in their haste to leave 

See the world with a stutter

One naughty one ,hangs by my lips 

For a last swing 

Before slipping out with a lisp

As they pass the gate of my lips

Mine no more

To paint their pictures 

Sing their songs

Create their own nebulous births 

In others

Leaving me clutching memories

And a sibilant sigh.

--shubha

Budding hope

Budding hope

First buds flower bold

Stretch in nascent hope to hold

Dream of fading moon

--shubha 

Hope

Hope


Having faith when the world is dark

Offer up engulfing doubt, an existence, stark

Purpose , a goal , on a journey embark

Ever provides a dying dream with life spark



Hope , that fluttering moth , leads through the night

With faith , to the engulfing truth ,a flame bright



--shubha

Discarded hearts

Discarded hearts

Lone heart lay forlorn
Hurriedly discarded in life
Yet, declaring love

--shubha

The mendicant

The mendicant


Every day,I raise my arms in prayer

To gather my fistful of sky

All that I remembered to be grateful for



Yet I return, each time with my begging bowl

Asking , grasping , pleading for just a little more



And You in your infinite wisdom , mercy

Fill it with the nectar of your love

That it may show the skies, the moon, stars

All that your love touches



I gather them greedily in my cupped hands

But they slip through my fingers

Leaving me empty



Until , I set down the bowl

In it's still depths

See my own reflection

To learn I am already blessed

With all I will ever need,

Your love.




--shubha

It is how we ride, not fall

It is how we ride, not fall

It is how we ride , not fall
We know the end that awaits all

But it is not the end that is to bear
But how we journeyed our way there

And this end , is it really a end of all that be
Our merely a transformation, to reality?

Meanwhile let us journey, gently
Savor the breeze , be grateful to the tree

So when we meet our reckoning hour
We have less to regret , more we have showered

And let our transformation be for gladness
Leave a few rustling songs to wipe away another's sadness

--shubha

Peanut tales

Peanut tales


Peanut shells litter the table

From my fogged memory,cable

A love so old , so rooted , stable

Of walks with grandpa, aged but able

With peanuts,stories, talks , my excited babble

Warmed by love only grandparents,enable.



--shubha

P.S. This poem was in response to a the propmt words fog/peanuts/love on a poetry group, . Happy to share this poem was accorded first place in this friendly competition

Memories of winter

Memories of winter


Curling mists of white,shivering mornings

Warm memories of past winters, brings


Of five more stolen minutes of half drowsiness

Of the magic of suspended reality under the covers


Of chill that grew vine-like around you

Of warm turmeric milk, sweetened by laughter anew


Of sweaters , socks , woolly hugs , a few

Of chattering teeth , red noses, chapped lips too


Of Nights' fog gathering into itself pleasant evenings

Oh! The memories, coming of winter brings.



--shubha


P.S. this poem that came to me in response to a prompt, winter memories on a poetry group.

Cold memories

Cold memories


With stinging sharpness

Cold brings back memories of you

Leaches from my frozen lips, heart

Warmth, moisture, last of my resolve

Squirreled away for these long, cold winters

Leaving behind tears in stung eyes



And yet , as I let go these memories

Accept their past tense

Somewhere deep within flares gratitude

For their presence, for their having been

To warm my heart , insulate

Against the bitter cold loneliness of today.



--shubha

P.S. this poem came to me in response to a prompt, winter memories on a poetry group