Just Three Words

Three words


How are you?
could pull a distressed soul
just before giving up.


I like it.
would make a mom happy
or a kid smile.

I love you.
can bring back
warmth of good memories.

Let it go.
could give strength
to move on.

Just three words....

Rajasthan in my lane...

It was a summer weekend extended family gathering in my neighbourhood .The family is from Rajasthan, and the first signs of that beautiful part of the country were there sand-laden cars almost choking the lane.
The second visible rajasthani delight was the ladies adorned in all possible bright hues one can imagine,however I  regret not seeing their faces almost always covered with their heavy chunri and sarees .
I completely surprised myself when I even enjoyed the loud folk songs played by one of  the drivers in the car.
The evening was full of change and surprises,I didn't mind hanging on my balcony enjoying all the activity in this otherwise sleepy place.What changed my day for the worse was the end of the gathering,not that the guests leaving made me sad.
It came as a shock when I realised that artificially enough ,most of the families coming out of the house ,almost all had not a single girl....strange isn't it...
I no longer liked the rajasthan in my lane.

Then and Now

Summers didn't mean much to me in my growing -up years in Shimla,except a rather thick rush of tourists there.A few years later as a student in Chandigarh I enjoyed bounties of  the hot-indian summer to the fullest for the first time.Mangoes,watermelons,ice-creams,evening walks,tall shakes,shorts and spaghetti tops.The minuscule room in hostel was barely a palace of  dreams with the loud cooler a constant companion.
The dark but cool corridors of the AC Joshi library in the university ,thickly lined with volumes of wisdom was the oasis, other than late night chats on the lawns with my friends.
Now almost a decade later in the same city....things have changed,life has changed, for better or worse I'm yet to decide.Have a home here now,share the AC comfort with my beautiful daughter and husband.There is no worrying for water for the cooler,electricity cut in the middle of the night.Just a longing for a heart -to-heart at 2a.m with a friend,or the mad run on a scooty at 10 p.m for an  ice-cream before the hostel gates close.
A strange tug for no mobile times,when waiting for his call on the hostel phone was romance.
When writing meant time alone with my faded diary.
I know it is unfair to weigh one period against the other...what are memories for...
and who knows next decade on something more technologically advanced than a blog i'll tell you about my 2011 in chandigarh.

Mom - Dad

In a sepia picture

                                                                                                 
on the mantlepiece

I see a young shy bride

all of 18

and a young man

with a proud Dev Anand expression

beside her.



its mom and dad

46 years ago,

the day they became man and wife.



In my 32 years I've seen them

argue,laugh,complain

In health and in sickness

In prosperity and calamity

fight with each other and more often

for each other.



The essence

I guess

is to be a team always

to honour,respect,love and cherish

with all the human flaws.



The lines on your hands

and faces

tell a long tale of

sacrifices and struggles.

Mom and Dad

I'm grown up enough to know

that no marriage is perfect

yet Yours

Is an inspiration.

love you both.

कल मदर'स डे था माँ

कोशिश इस बार भी की थी

की सबके जैसे                                             

मैं भी बोलूँ कुछ ख़ास तुम्हे                                                  

कोई कविता या फिर कोई गिफ्ट भेजू

पर नहीं हुआ इस बार भी

हमने रोज़ की तरह

बस की अपनी -अपनी ज़िन्दगी की बातें सांझी

आपसे सीखे ज़िन्दगी के कुछ और नुस्खे

और आपने मुझसे

इन्टरनेट की और बारीकी

मेरी हँसी मैं

जानती हूँ आपने सुन लिया जो मुझे था कहना

और आपके दुआ भरे हाथ छू

गए मुझे इतनी दूर से भी

हाँ माँ

लोग कहते हैं

कल मदर'स डे था  

Nobody

The solo plant on my

window sill waits for me

every evening.



A strange pigeon chooses

to sit at the same spot

to observe me have my tea

as I read.

Long ago a poet called Emily

said" I am a nobody , are you a nobody too?"

Now I know

what she meant.