The Way It Goes.

Obsessed by thoughts
mostly of my ancestors
more of my grandmother
on the maternal side
these two days I dwell
gathering the anecdotes
told by mother in my teenage
a kind woman she was
short in stature
tall in thoughts
patient and stoic was she
been so quick in handling with tact.
The time of the inauguration
of her husband’s first spinning mill
which was the seed of his industrial empire
her two –pictureyear old son died
she kept it within herself
never cried or broke down
lest her husband would be distracted
held the child in her arms
close to her bosom tight
the man came home stood there she sullen
with a warm smile all the more
relaxed he with a cup of tea
shared her grief with him
on one side was his commercial gain
on the other was his personal loss
prosperity and tragedy coincided
the wife who stood the test of times
did not stay long on earth
to see his rise and wealth
Well, that be the irony of the day
a paradox of the nuptials in stroke
comes to my mind the words
they also serve who stand and wait.


A Similarity

grandmotherThe imagination goes with the generation
the grandmother to the grandchild
each one having a distraction
that needs to be carefully filed
the grand mother went with her terms
had stones all around in her play
be it seven at one stroke one of less calm
or let it be the most native ones in clay
used to play hop in a swarm
the grandchild has her gadgets along
with an iPad iPhone loaded with applications
spends time peering over them for long
the child is lost in deep concentration
a manner the grandmother played in her days
drenched in sunshine and breathing fresh air
the little girl spends her time in a way
locked up in room with no care
the older one had her mother’s eye behind
the younger lives mostly alone
the mother sweating out in a remote bind
the proximity is not to be seen in tone
only frequent calls keep the child alert
the days have changed now greatly
the fundamentals still hang on intact
with the grandmother and grand child strongly
the discipline is passed on inadvertently.


Legacy Passes On

The genes they say
get reflected in the looks
a semblance being found
between mother and daughter.

Finding themselves in appearance
thoughts do catch them
being predominantly seen
as revealed in interactions and speech.

Apparently genes flow across the qualities
might be not shown openly
surfacing explicitly in the behaviour
the resemblance being pronounced.

Watching carefully the attitude of two girls
with whom I am closely associated
drew a parallel between then and their grandmother
they not live close but far away from each other.

They being together for a month in two years
do talk over the modern gadgets
but the two girls subconsciously inherited a quality
that of loving their home much .

The grandmother being tied to her home
enamoured by its charm get things done over a phone
the girls do not relish to venture out
wanting to relax in the comfort of their homes.

This made me deliberate for a while
wherein and how do these children learnt being so
concluded I that it is notgenes4 learning but inheritance
a legacy being passed on to them from their senior


My Grandmother

grandmotherMy grand mother told me
many lovely  stories
understood or not
I nodded my head.

My grandmother told me
many  lively experiences
liked it or not
I nodded my head.

My grand mother told me
many useful medicines
assimilated  it or not
I nodded my head

My grandmother kept on  saying
I paid no attention
I did not give importance
but kept nodding my head.

My grandmother is dead
I really do not know anything
No one is there to guide me
my head goes on nodding


Meenu’s Feeling.

stars  shining and glittering  

moon shining

sun shining heavily

the day is finishing  quickly

my heart is sparkling

Ifeel like laughing

I feel happy when I see

because you are my grandmother.

you always make me happy.

you tell nice things about me.

you always shine in my eyes.


Ichuckling will always be with  you for a feeling.

I always think a about you in my present.

I hope you understand me forever.

love meenu


A poem written by my grand daughter  showing her feelings towards me.

Actions Age Economy Experience feelings learning Lesson Life Looks Love subscriptions thoughts True

A Lovely Exchange.

It was an exchange,

Neither dealing with currency in  a range.

Nor involving a barter all the same.


It was an exchange,

Away from the economy in a range,

Far  away from the mundane all the same.


It was an exchange.

Across the deep blue ocean in a range,

Covering thousands of kilometers  all the same.


It was an exchange,

Where age did not come into the range,

Where affection stood above  all the same.


It was an exchange ,

Where the grandson poured out his thoughts in a range,

Where the grandmother listened mesmerised all the same.


Then it is not an exchange,

You might  blindly say in a range,

Yet it was sharing of feelings in a manner strange.