You own or your own

painting by David Ligare

One man's dream
Another man's luxury
Bread, wine and cream
Someone's domestic drudgery.

What one man can eat,
Another man can waste.
One can feast on meat
Another can barely taste.

As much as I hate to say
Money controls a man.
Deny the fact you may,
But have more, when you can.

Written for Magpie Tales: mag 310
Written for The Tuesday Platform

Cat

That rainy evening
The male cat killed the kittens
When the mother left.

She came back to me
Mewing with imploring eyes
A tear left my eye.

I wish I had known
The magic to get back life
And spare her the grief.

Written for Haiku Horizons: "cat"

Kill, take a chill pill!

From my perspective, in Indian society, the word 'cliche' is deeply connected with men, women, marriage and religious rituals.

Image Credit: Google

The following are the cliches I have encountered.

• A woman on her periods should be isolated from the rest of the household.
• A husband should always be working and pursue his career, while the wife should be non-career oriented and look after her in-laws, household chores and children.
• In a marriage, a man should always be earning more than the wife, should be taller than his wife, more (or equally) educated than his wife and should be a step ahead in every possible aspect of life. In short, he should be above and beyond her wife's capabilities.
• A man should always pay the bills be it a chaat shop or a fine-dining restaurant.
• Younger generation know nothing compared to the older generation, just because they were born in this world a few years before. 
• The debates on whether love or arranged marriages are successful. Sorry, a marriage is a dependent on the individuals in question, not whether the couples loved before or after marriage. This generalization is over-used and over-rated.
• There can be bad children but there cannot be bad mothers. Utter non-sense! If that is the case, then, why do we have orphanages? There are children who are abandoned by their own mothers.
• A woman should leave her parents and her comfort zone and stay in her in-laws place or another place of their own.
• A woman after becoming a mother should take care of all the activities of the baby while the dad has no real obligation, but if he wishes to volunteer, that is a great thing.
• Mother-in-law and daughter-in-law are born enemies. If the two can handle the generation gap very well, it is possible to co-exist, if and only if both are willing to do it.
• The worst of all cliche is that cricket is the most happening game in India. Sorry, I hate cricket.
• A good-looking person attracts people. Surely, they are catchy but not until they prove themselves to be bad, sometimes.

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda. This week's WOW prompt is ‘Kill the cliche'.

D day

That day, life showed her the two extremes of life from her daughter's birth to her twin's death.

That day changed the course of his life as a cell in his brain rebelled to become cancerous.

That day, she was helpless as his twentieth call was unanswered because of mehendi on her hands.

Written for Indispire - edition 110 on Indiblogger.in

Daughter

photo by Damien Derouene

The little girl waited for his move. She knew he was not going to win and that all his struggle to win in the last few moves was laughable. But the man's suave manner was intriguing. That was not what she saw in people. People made fuss about their defeat while the winners made merry. World celebrated the winners only and losers were hushed into low profiles. That was how the world was. But, this man, despite knowing that he was going to lose, remained calm. He must be a saint, she thought.

And then it was time for the last move. He was checkmated. He lost the game. No, the worst was that he lost his only few bucks. All he did was smile, shake hands and go home like a gentleman.

When his daughter saw him, she came gamboling to him, and in an instant her smile faded, "Oh, I don't see my doll?"

He abased himself in front of her, he knew not how to splinter her hopes, though he did it almost every time.

"Sorry my employer did not pay me today. Tonight, my darling, we sleep without dinner."

His daughter was used to the cruelty. Of poverty. 

Written for Magpie Tales: mag 309

Fly

The bird, spreading wings,
Flew far to never comeback
To dead barren land.

Land wept bitterly
For once it was a shelter
To the lonely bird.

Relationships change,
We do not die young and strong,
Make the most of love!

Written for Haiku Horizons: "fly"

Marks!

Once we pass our youth and settle down with our lives, making a living from a profession, we start knowing the real world - how bad or ugly or beautiful it is! At some point of time, we start longing for those bygone days of childhood. We always miss those days. But, memories belie the stress we went through those days.

Exams! Marks! Parents, teachers and students alike think that scoring a significant number in a particular set period of time is a measure of one's intelligence. I would call it more of a memory and application test. And I have always loathed this system. This system can make a child introvert, unsocial and a bookworm who is no good when he is exposed to practical application or social surroundings.

There have been suicide cases of students who failed crucial examinations. There have been disappointments in students who have scored distinction marks just because they could not get more. Where are we heading to? We, adults, are creating a system of stress for children instead of creating a system of learning.

I know people who have scored first class marks, but, earning higher than people who are exceptional in academics scores. Is it not a paradox? Scores can do very little after a certain point of time in life. Nobody asks a mother how much she scored in her 10th standard when she has her own kid to bring up. Nobody judges a CEO of a company by his PUC marks. Nobody cares about your marks when you are out of the system. It is the presence of mind, the understanding of a situation, smartness, patience, perseverance that takes a man far ahead in life.

Marks do not make a person. It is the eduction, its essence and morals that can make a man.

Written for Indispire - edition 109 on Indiblogger.in

If only

The woman of my life she was,

No one could guess her cause.

Tying up her long hair in a bun,

She always made my life fun.

I was probably her worst nightmare

Livid, I never reciprocated her care.

She took it with a smile, all the bruises,

And lived a life with poor resources.

When I knew not, who was my mother,

Bereft or abandoned without a bother,

She came to my life like sunshine

To become a godmother, I could call mine!

Tears run down, as I kneel at her tomb

I wish I could lie back in her womb.

She was my one and only care-taker,

If only she was my mother!

Written for The Tuesday Platform.

Mind

Killer, thief or Godman
I can be what you wish for!
Come, lead me ahead!

Your wish, my command!
You are the reason I am.
O mind, show me light!

Written for Haiku Horizons: "mind"

The luxury of HappYness

Whenever the topic of discussion is happiness, my mind repeatedly quotes from the movie, The Pursuit of Happyness - Happiness is something that we can only pursue, but can never have it. To me, the word 'happiness' has been a very confusing term. English lexicon has a defined meaning, but it in practice, it is difficult to palpably know it.

To me, happiness lies in the following activities:

1. Getting up early in the morning for exercise.
2. Sharing moments with loved ones.
3. Chatting, gossiping and laughing together.
4. Knowing new people and being a part of their lives.
5. Writing and reading.
6. Doing my job.
7. Not complaining about the situations in life and blaming it on others.

Alright, did you notice that happiness can be only listed in a set of activities and there is nothing really 'absolute' that can scream out, 'I am happiness'. Happiness is a mirage that life creates for you. Something like an optical illusion. You start believing what you perceive, but that necessarily need not be true. Similarly, if you decide to be happy, you can be happy, irrespective of the truth around you. And if you can do that, you have attained deliverance!

Also, there is nothing that can give you eternal happiness. Everything comes with an expiry date. That is my realization. Opinions change, relationships change, people change, things change and I change too. The frolicking  person who once was the fountainhead of your happiness begins to matter less after a few years, The activity that gave you immense happiness once becomes boring after a while. 

Change is a constant thing in life and sorrows, happiness, nothingness and everything else revolves around it. Nothing is forever and definitely not the illusion of happiness!

Written for Indispire - edition 108 on Indiblogger.in

Not yet

Image Credit: http://magpietales.blogspot.in/

It feels like a surreal reverie,

As I try to fight the qualm.

Your memories linger free

All there is, is an eerie calm.

Obliterated from my memory,

No, you can never be gone.

Our love is the love of century,
That leaves a path to tread on.

Come again to light up my mind!
Fortitude to move on and thrive
In your presence I shall always find
To me, you are always alive!

Written for Magpie Tales: mag 308

Safe

A mother thinks twice
Before sending her daughter
To play and make merry!

How safe will she be?
The fact that she is a girl
Can cause her danger!

Written for Haiku Horizons: "safe"

Grandiose plans

The guide pointed his tubby finger to the idol. It was an idol wrought out of a single rock - a dancing lady standing akimbo. Rani's interest was piqued by the intricate details of the idol. The guide further explained that the idol represented a famous classical dancer known as Shantala, a beautiful queen of Hoysala dynasty. Tired by the day, he disconsolately showed them the dais on which she used to dance and the God to whom her dance was offered, as mentioned in the scriptures. Nevertheless, Rani's face brightened as her imagination flew far and high when she pictured an antique temple filled with audience, music and flowers. Rani, being a dancer, reveled in her thoughts of an enchanting dance performance. Dance was her passion.

As the day broke chilly and dark, she returned to her hotel with her family. As they sat together for dinner, she asked her mother, "Maa, what if I want to give up my software profession and take up dance full time? I am aspiring to be a professional dancer."

Her mother winced. "What is wrong with you? We are going to look for a groom for your marriage in a few days and now you say this! Do you want us to be alive or dead? Do you think any good family will respect you if you are a dancer? You will be looked upon as an object of entertainment." A typical mother brought up with rigid and orthodox school of thought reacted. 

Though Rani never understood the connection of her being a dancer with her mother being alive or dead, she knew her mother was going to lay down an emotional ruse to ruin her plans. She remained quiet and finished her dinner, as usual. 

On her return from the trip to temple, Rani recalled that night, as she did in many lonely moments. A night that could have changed the course of her life; a night that could have made her a dancer on whom rhapsodies could be written; a night that would have given her what was truthfully hers, her life.

Snapping out to reality, she heard her son cry out. She wiped her tears and bared her chest to feed her baby. She was married with a child to a family that despised dancing. What could she possibly placate herself with? Dance was her life's fountainhead.

My favourite books are "The Guide" by R.K. Narayan and "The Fountainhead" by Ayn Rand.

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda. This week's WOW prompt is ‘Books and Titles'.

S-S-S-Story!

"Say something Sanjana!"
Sanjana spoke softly, "Shocked!"
Surya sat scrutinizing situation.
"Simply, sprint somewhere", simpered Surya.
"Sister supports surreptitiously so slipping succeeds", Surya specified.
Successfully supported, Surya, Sanjana, slipped silently.

Written for Indispire - edition 107 on Indiblogger.in

The wife he never had!

painting by Cesar Santos

Ladies and cigarettes are his weakness.

Round hips, red-lips, an hour-glass figure;

Surely, he settles for nothing less,

After a night, she is his disposed cigar.

By day, he is a gentleman, at work,

Head held high, a businessman perspires,

For a raise, more incentives and perk,

By night, there is another lady as he retires.

As they fall in bed, in the wild exploration,

He wishes back his youth and vigour,

And a wife who creates such sensation,

Instead of his own, who awaits him back in anger.

Written for Magpie Tales: mag 307

Leap

Alarms and surprises!
In a leap of moment,
Dear Life, how you change?!

Written for Haiku Horizons: "leap"