Categories
thoughts

Puthandu


Welcoming the new Year
 those of us who live in
 the Southern states of India
 turn ecstatic on April 14

Telugus hail the new Year
 as Ugadi, while Vishu 
is celebrated in Kerala
 and Karnataka with enthusiasm.

Tamils call it Puthandu.
Gudi Padawa  to the Marathis.
A worship with different names
enacted with similar customs.

Prayers  to the Gods
 with offerings of fruits, 
coconuts and delicacies 
 spread around the tall oil lamp

placed over the kolam ( drawing )
mark the dawn of the New Year.
The family gathers around 
 stay together, blow the conch,

take arathi  chant mantras,
 pay obeisance to the Gods 
and elders, seeking 
their blessings,

it is both fun and  cheer
that go with the rituals 
 which solicit   a togetherness 
 becoming a rarity nowadays.

Categories
thoughts

Durga Puja


Bright yellow lemons 
 are cut into two, the juice 
 extracted and the seeds  
removed , the pods 
take the shape of  round 
diyas.

Oil is poured,  thread 
wicks  are placed. lighted at the 
shrine of Durgalakshmi,
Goddess of Victory
synonymous of Kali,
on Tuesdays.

Women  light  the diyas
at Rahukala 3 pm -4.30 pm
recite the powerful mantra

Sarva mangala mangalye 
sive sarvartha sathake  
saranye triyambika
Gauri Narayani Namosthuthe!

Durga and Lemon have 
connections goes the belief.
Prayers drive away negative 
energy and bring peace.

Categories
thoughts

Sweet Sixteen


“It is unusual”, so saying
 I walk towards the door
 to find rains pouring 
heavily.

The mat in my  porch 
 lies drenched , the cane chairs
 turn wet, the footwear
 are no exception.

Tucking my saree high
 I roll the mat, pull the chairs,
place the shoes  on the steps, 
go about as if I am sixteen.

” Well done”. I applaud 
and walk briskly towards the door
 my knees give way, I land 
on the floor in a crash.

With none around to  put 
me back on foot, I remain 
on the floor for a while
 muster to rise.

I did get up with great effort
dragging my legs I walk in
 my knee tells me softly,
” You are not sixteen”!

Categories
thoughts

Oldie


Lush black hair
silky and soft.
dangles so pretty
on my shoulders,
enhance the skin colour
granting a charm,
I look fair and young.

Losing little of the dark hue
the hair lacks luster,
still holds an intensity
tied up like a bun
rests quiet on the lower neck
producing a maturity,
I turn responsible,

Black and grey mix
grow dense in no time,
My crown takes the cue
from pepper, solid and crushed,
tends to be sparse at places
proposes a scholarly
appearance all too soon.

Greying rapidly
my hair flutters
in the air like
the waned wings
of an old bird,
bereft of a glow,
“Oldie,” they call me.

Categories
thoughts

There I Go


I sleep every other day,
in the afternoons. In a way 
it is innate coming 
from my mother.

Summer has set in early,
mercury rises unceremoniously,
unmindful of the heat, I rest 
on the plain floor.

Milkman motors through 
the garden, Hoots without 
a stop. Cursing him
I try to rise.

Lo! my head revolves
 eyes rotate ,the ceiling 
comes down, floor 
goes up.

I lie, still, clutching 
the pillow. It lasts 
for a second.  I resume 
my balance and sit up.

The milkman continues 
yelling ” amma, amma”.

Categories
thoughts

A Liar And A Shrew


A squabble
between a wife
and her husband
one abusing the other
verbally and physically.
is the recent talk of the town,

She drives the man out
of his own house, hides his mobile,
behaves atrorcious, starves hi,
spats and screams, engages
in sly innuendos, making
life horrible.

To escape her brutality
he boozes, lies in geometrical
progressions, enters into
illicit relations, ruining
the family and losing
‘credibility in the community.

The children treat him
like a doormat. He nurses
no remorse. Continues to live
as he wishes. The liar
and the shrew part ways.

Categories
thoughts

Mystica


As a toddler 
I hang around 
in the garden.
 with my siblings.

The garden abounds 
with roses and lilies.
Gorgeous I feel
to be one among them.

Growing up we argue,
 fight, hug  and kiss 
 stop talking, scream 
slap. i being the most docile.

Like a hurricane 
we behave mad. 
The branches snap 
so do we, break the ties. 

Adulthood brings 
both responsibilities
 and  maturity. An end 
to physical  abuse.

Unknowingly i find 
myself away from the troupe.
Like a lonely planet 
I revolve and rotate.

Relatives and friends 
turn to me, It is your 
individuality that hurts
calls one,

The other puts forth, it could 
be your financials,. My jaws fall 
apart, finances? I quip
She asserts, it is.

The last one retorts,
 it is your pride>
Pride! i exclaim
I possess none till now.

I smile though not with ease.
Like a Daffodil swaying in the breeze, 
in  the sweltering heat, I stray 
along crossing none of them.

.