To Be or Not to Be … Afraid!!!

Of all the things I fear the most,
This one tops the list.
No, it’s not thunder or ghosts
Or dark bottomless pits.

The very sight of it is menacing
And triggers me to wail,
Not to mention all the suffering
That afterwards prevails.

And it’s not like I can escape
When it is unleashed.
I know that I should be brave,
Yet I quiver like a leaf.

It takes less than a minute
For it to attack and leave,
And I’d rather run away from it,
Than face it tearfully.

It may be small and shimmery,
But it’s as painful as hell.
The singular cause of my misery
Is the doctor’s needle, my friends!

The Dictionary and the Thesaurus

The dictionary and thesaurus got married,
And their wedded life lasted exactly for a day.
Yes, theirs was a story fraught with tragedy,
When that morning started in the usual way.

The thesaurus asked the dictionary what she wanted,
As a gift, and a pink saree, was what she requested.
Now, the thesaurus went excitedly to the market,
And soon returned with a saree the color of peaches.

“I said pink,” the dictionary said, shaking her head.
And so, the thesaurus found himself in the shop again.
He selected a dress that was a shade like orchids,
And, came home, sure that the right decision, he’d made.

“Was I not clear?” The dictionary said incredulously.
“Pink,” she said as she pushed the silky dress away.
Flummoxed, the thesaurus drove to the merchant hurriedly,
And exchanged the purchase for another like champagne.

“Pink! I want pink!” The dictionary yelled furiously.
“Which one?” The thesaurus screamed back at her.
“Blush, coral, flamingo, magenta, salmon or candy?!”
“You should know, pink!” She shrieked in raging anger.

And, this was how their little love story ended abruptly
With the thesaurus racing outside to save himself,
As she picked up his “gift” and threw it at him violently.
Even now, they sit separately, sulking, on the library shelf.

What’s in a Rose?

You’d think I lived the most coveted life in the world,
But spend a day in it, and your blood would turn cold.
Yes, I’ve seen everything, and it’s definitely not easy
To just survive with my exquisite form and beauty.

Nothing could possibly be worse than the experience
Of folks sticking their noses in me for my fragrance.
And God help me if I fall in the hands of pining lovers,
Who, in pulling out my petals, get immense pleasure.

So many times, I’m crushed, squeezed, soaked, and bottled
For the perfume that helps mask the stink of people,
And woe is me if there’s a wedding that’s to take place,
For then, I’d be plucked and used to decorate their braids.

The fact that I flourish amongst an army of prickly thorns
Is not at all helpful in protecting me from these vile humans.
From professing their first love to wreaths at funerals,
I am chosen to translate their emotions and convey it all.

You’d say that I should rejoice, be proud, and feel blessed
To be so important and, on all occasions, be needed
But only I and the gardener who tends to me knows
That I am a rose, and I just want to bloom and grow.

Life Rules!!!

Like a river untamed, Life flows on.
These rules give it direction.
Have the zeal to learn always.
Being a perennial student pays.
Empathize. Empathize. Empathize.
It helps to see the other’s side.
Declutter the house and the mind.
It will keep them well-organized.
Eat and drink in moderation,
But a little chocolate is medication.
Exercise. Exercise. Exercise.
It helps oil the gears of the mind.
Make space for hobbies in life.
They help become creative and wise.
Never give up on the power of prayer.
Ask, and the answers will be there.
Sing. Sing. Sing. Sing. Sing.
Music brightens the dullest moments.
There’s always time to appreciate
The beauty that Nature creates.
Karma records everything in her ledger,
So, keep doing good to others.
Love. Love. Love. Love. Love.
To love is a blessing from Above.
To these rules, I always abide
Every day, they are my guide.
These are the rules that help me be.
As I flow on, on my way to the sea.

Stronger

The road ahead may seem arduous and winding,
But, just take that first step and start hiking.

The stack of books may seem intimidating,
But, just open the first page and start reading.

The tasks and targets may seem challenging,
But, just pick one of them and start completing.

You have in yourself that strength and inclination.
Bring it out from under that pile of underestimation.

The universe is limitless, and so are the possibilities.
To tackle one moment at a time is all you need.

Hard work never kills, and reaching that goal may take longer,
But do you know? – What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.

Without Failures

It was Her biggest project –
To design Life on this planet.

And, the first thing that She did
Was strike off “failure” from the possibilities.

As She started, there was no looking back.
Her plan was that there was no Master Plan.

Everything that She made had a purpose.
From the Sequoia to the sands in coves.

Nothing would ever go to waste.
Everything had value in its own way.

And the biggest beauty of all Her creations
Was that there were no Start and End buttons.

Even if a Time came when it all seemed to end,
It would lay a path for new beginnings to commence.

So, in the velds, the lion would eat the bison.
And when Death overcame the lion,

He’d become the grass, on which the bison thrived,
Thus would move the circle of Life.

We have much to learn from Her.
To replace “failure” with “lessons learned.”

To keep trying, improving, and, again, trying,
For that’s the only way out in the grand scheme of things.

Free or Free?

Am I free?
This is a question that haunts me.
Am I free to decide
What to do in my life?
Free to choose what to wear,
Eat, drink, think, love, and care?
The world is a giant yard sale
And many offers it makes.
But am I free to even see
That which pleases me?
Me?
How did I come to be?
I am not just the sum of my choices.
All my virtues and vices
Are the cumulation
Of the decisions of previous generations.
Would I be this same girl
If I could pick anything in this world?
All these restrictions and chains
Do I really want to break them?
This is a question that haunts me.
Do I really want to be free?

A Sky Full of Stars

It’s a morning like any other morning.
The rising Sun sees the world stirring.
The bell rings, and it’s the milkman.
The tea’s brewing; the egg’s in the pan.

Right next door, Mrs. Sawant is awake
Ready to begin her yoga and pilates.
Down the street, one hears a bell ring
As Mrs. Desai performs arti and sings.

The road is full of people on their way,
And Mr. Sabharwal is also one of them.
Racing against the clock to reach office,
He boards the bus driven by Mr. Tiwari.

The difference among them all is evident
In culture, race, language, and religion.
Yet, when I consider all these from afar,
I think about the sky full of little stars.

Each star twinkles with its tiny light
Contributing to the beauty of the night.
Never do they fight among themselves
As they shine on together like equals.

And far away, in another distant galaxy,
Any star gazer would think similarly.
The boundaries that we let divide us
Are so puny in this grand Universe.

Can we not learn from the night sky
That lets each star beam its own light
Realizing that each gleam is important,
And by doing so, achieves perfection?

Is it too difficult for us to comprehend
That each one of us is made different
Not to compete, but to complement
Like the stars glowing in the firmament?

We’re all pieces of a giant mosaic
And everyone’s needed to complete it.
Each one’s created with a unique design,
Yet connected by the tapestry of life.

The Girl in the Mirror

How does one solve a puzzle
That is unsolvable?

How does one name a color
That’s a mix of all the others?

How does one read a tale
Written in words incomprehensible?

How does one predict
The breeze’s path in the next minute?

How do I ever decipher
This girl I see in the mirror?

How do I ever translate
All of her mysterious ways?

How do I ever recognize
The dreams she’s locked deep inside?

How do I ever know?
It’s like finding a snowflake in the snow!

All I am aware of her are her words.
A poetess she is, a peddler of hope!

One at a Time

It was that most dreaded of times!
The final examinations were nigh!
The panicked cramming had begun
Of all the chapters in the syllabus.

The textbooks were all piled up high,
And the space was limited in my mind.
So, as the clock struck nine one night,
My father found me sitting teary-eyed.

It did not take him time to fathom
That, with fear, I was overwhelmed.
He then calmly sat down next to me
And in a gentle voice, said reassuringly,

“How do you think the ocean forms?
One drop at a time – drop by drop.
How do you think walls are built?
One brick at a time – brick by brick.

How do you think a book is read?
One page at a time – page by page.
How do you think you’d climb a ladder?
One step at a time – higher and higher.

Yes, it’s important to start somewhere
And move along with a steady pace.
And that’s how you’d break a mountain.
You’d start by cutting a single stone.”

His words struck a chord deep inside.
It seemed that I could finally see light.
A line, a paragraph, a page at a time
Was how I studied on that dark night.

The exams and scores are long forgotten,
But not my father’s well-taught lesson.
For how do you think one goes on in life?
One learning at a time – time after time.

It’s Complicated!

And so it was that on the sixth day
God created Man in His own image,
And thinking that he shouldn’t be alone,
He made for him a companion, a Woman.

She complemented him perfectly.
She made his existence complete.
A beautiful partnership they built
For His commands to be fulfilled.

But I’m so sure nothing could’ve prepared
Him for the evolution of their relationship.
A meeting, yet not meeting, of their minds,
And the repercussions that would arise.

She said he should always tell the truth.
Then, asked him to say how she looked,
Or spoke, or sang or walked, or cooked,
And the answer expected was “Beautiful!”

He, on the other hand, felt so obliged
To let her know all that he had opined.
Only after he slept on the couch at night
Did he gain insight into that lost fight.

And then, there was that lazy Sunday
When he watched his favorite team play
While she dusted, cleaned, and arranged
All things in the house where they stayed.

And, till today, he could never explain
Why he got that cold shoulder again.
After all, he had stayed out of her way
By watching the game on TV that day.

O Almighty, was this in the Master Plan?
Were You onto all this before it all began?
What further trickery awaits us humans
As the Earth revolves around the Sun?

Who’s right or wrong? No one can tell!
It’s so complicated, and that doesn’t help!
So, pray, send to us the blueprint manual
That will help solve this unsolvable puzzle!

The Riddle

What is it
That abounds in the poorest home,
But is missing in castles big and grand?

What is it
That’s more valuable than gold,
But cannot be locked in safes and banks?

What is it
That no company in this world
Can manufacture with a logo and brand?

What is it
That everyone tries to hoard,
But then it slips away like grains of sand?

What is it
That each person longs for,
But each and every person also has?

What is it
That multiplies manifold
With the smallest thing that is shared?

What is it
That we think is lost,
But if we look deep within, it is there?

What is it
That can only be grown
With selfless acts of kindness?

What is it? What is it?
If you haven’t yet fathomed,
The answer to this riddle, my friends, is … Happiness!