26.08.2014

words, faces
things to do
undo
unlearn

plea to
come back
go away
stay
obliterate

knowing
unknowing
who am I?
Am I?
Is any one
the I?

reflection
real fiction
money, love
breathing
living

blur, blur, blur
 

A few more lessons from my daughter

She is all of 5 years and a bundle of energy that I often struggle to match with, but she is my personal powerhouse of wisdom and life lessons. When life is looking down from all fronts I look up to her my little Buddha to show me the way, and as if she understands this need and during those phases we have some amazing conversations about life and its accessories.

In the last few days she has come up with many insights, I keep writing these down just to archive them for her and for me.

 

So recently my daughter taught me :

• to relook at Rani Jhansi as also a victim of the system that idealised her only to sacrifice her young life at the altar of so called duty.
• to describe death in terms of how pencil shavings can never make a whole pencil again.
• age is no barrier by telling me that she is my father's sister now beside being his granddaughter because all his siblings have passed away
• to tell me that freedom is precious because those who are not free are never happy. She thought the birds in the sky are better than the ones in a cage because these can fly to find their own dinner :)

 

Somewhere in the
Australian outback
as the aborigines believe
I have captured
my soul in a selfie
any takers?

its a windy day
the trees
are shedding leaves
the masters of letting go

another insipid
cold cup of tea
I have lost count
how many

the invisible walls
growing
love is
an inadequate word.

 

I write
erase
write again
erase

too long
too prosaic
too meaningless
too much

silence
is a
difficult
space to fill.

 

6 August

the dead are statistics
there is no count of
the walking dead

without a warning
life leaps out
- connection interrupted

and that
lizard like memory
with glass eyes
Goosebumps

no calendars, no hours
no appointments
no deadlines
just a vast cavity of
being
to fill

the clumsiness
of words
the inadequacy
of translations

many decades ago
today
the worst bombs
had dropped

you will never know
when I died
I will never know
if you really cared.