If the inkpot was the ocean,
Then
Not all the ink would be enough…
If every quill was a raindrop,
Then
Not all the rain would be enough…
If each page was a flower petal,
Then
Not all the blossoms would be enough…
If every moment was a breath,
Then
Not all the lives would be enough…
To express my love for you.
‘Tis as simple as that –
I love you forever and ever and ever.
‘Til infinity.
Once you understand that
In this Universe, which is 93 billion light-years in diameter,
With a 100 billion galaxies,
And 400 billion stars in the Milky Way galaxy,
With 8 planets revolving around the Sun,
And 5 nonillion living entities on our planet, Earth,
With 8.3 billion humans,
And 22.5 million people born on the same day,
You are the only you,
Then, you have already defied all odds
To just …
Be.
So just …
Be
Your unique self
That completes the tapestry of humanity,
The cherished Earthling,
Spawn of the Sun’s starlight,
Full of galactic stardust,
With matter and antimatter,
With vacuum and plenum,
Everyday…
Just be…
You.
Listen to the garden sing.
Listen to the garden sing as it heralds a new dawn.
A new dawn that echoes the koel’s melodious songs
That are the harbinger of love and hope.
Listen.
Listen to the garden sing.
Listen to the garden sing as the colors splash across the skies.
The colors splash across the skies, and in every dewdrop
That shines on the roses, leaves, and blades of grass.
Listen.
Listen to the garden sing.
Listen to the garden sing, and now, can you hear the silence?
Can you hear the silence of the buds that fell to the ground
Never to unfurl their petals and bloom?
Listen.
Listen to the garden sing.
Listen to the garden sing amidst the sad silence.
The sad silence of each life pushed to the edge of extinction.
Who created the garden?
And who has the right to destroy it?
PS: This poem is an Anaphora
Once upon a moonlit night,
I walked beyond the hillside.
And, came upon a place of light
Where everything shone so bright.
A golden car whizzed past me
With the rider grinning gleefully.
Everyone was dressed beautifully
With smiles as perfect as can be.
Cafes were bustling with activity
As everyone sipped the best coffee.
Wearing diamond and gold jewelry,
They ate out of shiny silver cutlery.
All of a sudden, it started to pour,
And they sat with umbrellas unfurled
Upside down on the marble floor
To catch all that fell from Heaven’s door.
Those who wanted money, got it!
Those who wanted fancy things, got it!
Those who wanted success, got it!
Those who wanted love, got it!
O! it was beautiful beyond compare!
A place with happiness everywhere!
It was then that my eyes fell on her.
I thought I’d seen her somewhere!
Why?! That girl looked just like me!
Perfectly successful and very happy!
In that instant, I recalled my dream
That I had long abandoned, regretfully.
So, this was the place where they went!
Unfulfilled dreams that were unattended!
Dreams that could never be manifested!
Dreams that were somehow neglected!
As dawn broke through from the east,
That place vanished with the breeze.
I turned to leave, sighing wistfully,
Reminiscing the promise I couldn’t keep.
The woods of my dreams are dark and deep.
And, ever so often, they whisper to me.
A magical breeze blows through the trees,
And as it swishes, it beckons me softly.
The evening sun casts a glow on the olive leaves
As fireflies message each other in a code binary.
The path strewn with dry twigs crackles under my feet,
And the cool air, with the scent of flowers, is heavy.
The woods, to my heart and soul, gift peace.
They take me to a place more real than reality
Where life springs forth from every nook and cranny,
Where hope sings songs untethered and free.
In those deep and dark woods, it’s myself that I seek,
And in the stillness, I can see my true self revealed.
When Life throws me to the ground in a mangled heap,
These whispering woods give me the strength to heal.
The ones who read will say
That the ocean covers 71% of the Earth’s surface,
And the rest is land.
The ones who see will say
That the ocean is the final destination
For rivers that flow from the mountains and plains.
But the ones who know will say
That the ocean has mastered the art of letting go
With every wave that rushes towards the shore.
Yes, it lets go of grains of sand
And those, in turn, build the coast.
Yes, it lets go of precious shells, pearls, and many more.
And, it’s worth giving a thought
To what would have been if this were not.
What if the ocean held everything inside itself?
The answer, my friends, is very simple.
For, if the ocean hoarded it all,
It would cease to exist and completely lose its form.
So there it is, now you also know –
Letting go is not a recipe for loss,
But a path for life and growth.
When you felt sad and lonely,
I spun rainbows from the grey skies.
When you wanted to pour your heart out,
Even at 3 a.m., I was always around.
When you were filled with resentment,
I was your source of happiness.
When your eyes were full of tears,
I chased away all your fears.
The thoughtful, little unexpected gifts,
The boxes of roses and chocolates,
The attention to all you spoke,
The sweet messages I wrote
The moments that to you I dedicated –
Yes, you were the center of my galaxy.
The entire world was a witness –
My love was the truest and deepest.
But it was so easy for you to leave
Saying I’d be over it eventually.
You never ever really loved me,
Never understood how deep I was in it.
You left me to drown in regret
Without realizing I’d die in the process.
Because for you, oh for you, my loved one
It was a fleeting and worthless attraction.
“Do you remember me?”
I whispered slowly.
My fingers brushed the wall lightly
Leaving lines in the dust covering it.
A chance visit to my hometown
After many, many years
Led me to my old ancestral house,
Now crumbling due to disrepairs.
“Do you remember me?”
I repeated the question in my mind
“I do. But do you remember me?”
A low and trembling voice replied.
“This was the room where you slept,
And I watched over you as you dreamt.
On this floor, you played with your friends
Using chairs and sheets to make tents.
Do you remember your fifth birthday?
I was decked with colorful streamers.
You were over the moon that day
To get a bicycle from a well-wisher.
I remember how your laughter
Echoed right into my beating heart.
And, my walls would never tire
Of holding memories in photographs.
Yes, I remember,” the voice said,
And, just as sudden, it became silent.
In that moment, I felt an instant regret,
As if I’d just lost a deeply beloved friend.
There should be one in every house.
A storyteller.
There was one in mine.
My grandmother.
Many a lazy afternoon
Passed listening to her tales.
And, that sowed the seeds, too
Of seeing the extraordinary in the mundane.
Like the one with the tigress.
This happened a long, long time ago.
She lived in her village with her parents,
Where the womenfolk would gather firewood.
One day, they crossed the Son river
And were searching for firewood in the forest.
In the breeze, the leaves of the trees quivered
As they tied bundles to carry on their heads.
My grandmother was the first to finish her task,
And seeing that the others were still at it,
She sat down in the shade of a mahua tree to rest
Where the lullaby of the trees lulled her into sleep.
Meanwhile, the other women left the forest.
They thought she was in the line behind them.
They reached the village and went to their houses,
And that’s when her parents realized she was missing.
Her mother inquired with the other women,
But they were unable to say where she could’ve gone.
And, that was when the village folks panicked.
Soon, a search and rescue mission was on.
It was late in the evening, almost twilight.
The villagers combed the forest with sticks and lanterns.
And, that’s when she woke up rubbing her sleepy eyes
As she heard her mother’s voice calling out to her.
Discovering that she was alone in the dark forest,
She started crying and shouted for her mother.
Soon, they were able to locate her
Much to the relief of her mother and the villagers.
Then, they took her back to the village,
And that was the end of her adventure.
But, you see, the spot where she slept
Was on the trail the tigress took on her way to the river.
The sign read “Do Not Disturb” at all times.
And, it was evident in the behavior, too –
The grumpy face, dark-circled eyes, and undisclosed life.
They thought she was busy with countless things to do.
All of them but one.
Her behavior too left them all flummoxed.
She understood the “Do Not Disturb” sign at once,
For she could interpret the paradox.
She began by doing the little things –
Just sitting nearby,
Lending a hand when it was needed,
Wishing, “Hope you had a good day!” with a smile;
Exuding tiny bits of warmth
Like the rosy glow of the Sun at dawn.
Slowly, the “aloof” one began to respond,
With nods first, and then, small talk.
Yes, she had been through a lot in life.
She’d seen her trust being betrayed in the past.
That was the reason for the “Do Not Disturb” sign,
And the “I’m busier than everyone” facade.
But that had all changed in the past few days.
Everyone around her was pleasantly surprised
To see her face light up with happiness,
Because one of them interpreted the “Do Not Disturb” sign.
Yes, I must admit.
I’ve been struggling to learn this for a long time –
The art of not caring,
Not letting the tiny things bother me in my life.
Like the birds.
They’re there everywhere, isn’t it?
I can travel to any part of this world,
And there will be birds that flock and flit.
So, why bother to keep a bowl of water
For them in the balcony during summer?
Aren’t they just like the air?
They were and always will be there!
Like the child who eats chips
And throws the packet on the streets!
Well, what more can you expect?!
The plastic packet is anyhow useless when empty.
So, why bother to school the kid?
After all, one disciplined child won’t change anything!
They are happiest when they play and eat,
And isn’t this what keeps the Earth spinning?
Like that person frazzled by the heat
And keeps all the fans running!
Anyway, the money’s there for the electricity.
The bills are paid on time, and that’s about it.
So why bother to turn off the fans when not in use?
What difference will it make?
Someone else may walk into that room
And will end up switching on the fan again!
Yes, I’ve been struggling to learn this,
And I keep failing at it miserably!
I know there’s a long way I have to go,
But fret not, I’m working hard towards it!
Until then, I will care about the birds,
And the litter on streets, and the electricity.
Maybe one day, I’ll finally learn how to uncare,
And these tiny things will no longer bother me.
Welcome to India, my country,
Where traditions have been made by the Gods themselves!
And, as you arrive, I greet you humbly
With a bowed head and my palms joined in a namaste.
With this, we connect in a positive and mindful way.
The only transaction is respect, and not bacteria or viruses.
With this, I’m calm with my energies in a balanced state.
My thoughts are unified, and negativity stays away.
O guest! The divine in me honors the divine in you.
For your visit, this is an expression of my gratitude.
With this gesture, you will stay in my memory too.
You are a God, and so, that’s how I welcome you.
When it comes to the inheritance of traditions,
The namaste has withstood the test of time.
This was how my ancestors greeted each other in veneration,
And when I do the same, they reflect in me – every time.
wordsofhope 