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LAGNIAPPE

Life is a gift.

I am in Kolkata these days. Yes, the City of Joy. 

It has been a long  hiatus from writing. Reasons are numerous ;  none of them seem valid to me.

I am living  my own life. On my own terms. I am a whiff of wind – once here, at another instance, somewhere else. No rules, no diktats. I’m a free bird.

Coming to Kolkata has been quite an experience. In a train, sweating most of the way, getting my way in the crowds at the station, breaking rules there, listening to people hurling abuses and not saying a word , getting the dreaded sprain again – in the same place, keeping a calm head, getting lost on the way to the guest house, living life king size, watching a government hospital function, noticing a cute medico ( LOLzzzz),queues for washroom, cafeteria and the like , riding a rick, sitting next to the auto driver, seeing real super- bitches emerge from their cocoons of goodness, waking up at 6 in the morning ( on a regular basis, mind you ! ) - You name it and I have it. 

But its fun in its own way. I have made new friends. I meet the old ones often.Office is cool (Literally. The air-conditioner transports us straight to  Antartica).

But its fun in its own way.

After all, didn't I say, life is a gift ?

P.S. : I miss home , my room and family. 

Comments

Nikhil Menon said…
Enjoy it as long as it lasts! :) Yeh Zindagi ma milegi dobara. :P

Nikhil
☆ Rià ღ said…
Hmm...hope u hav a good time there alothough, i never really likes Kolkata.

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I CANNOT REMEMBER MY MOTHER ~ Rabindranath Tagore

I cannot remember my mother,
only sometime in the midst of my play
a tune seems to hover over my playthings,
the tune of some song that she used to
hum while rocking my cradle.


I cannot remember my mother
but when in the early autumn morning
the smell of the shiuli flowers floats in the air,
the scent of the morning service in the
temple comes to me as the scent of my mother.


I cannot remember my mother
only when from bedroom window
I send my eyes into the blue of the distant sky,
I feel that the stillness of my mother's gaze on my face
has spread all over the sky.

~Rabindranath Tagore
Note : This was one of  the earliest poems I read,loved and cherished.

WAITING FOR YOU

Concealed by dark clouds
You keep shining.
Bright streaks of light
Dazzle me.
Enchant me.
And keep me waiting..
Waiting for you.

Amidst Soul-lessness

There is smoke somewhere. 
I cannot seem to figure out where. 
The lights are here, the music is here.
Has it been home here ?
Perhaps. Maybe when it did not rain.
Or maybe when it rained and it did not matter.
Maybe when I walked alone, smiling to myself. 
Or maybe when I realized I was okay.
Had it been always like this ?

Not really. 
Things clicked, took effort and blood. 
Did I do it ? Or the beasts did ? Maybe we both together,
Played this game. 
Amidst soulful solitude, it was love. 
Maybe appreciation.
Another journey, another dry spell. 
Will it ever be home again ? 

P.S. : Penned at Candies, Bandra on 11th January 2017