Vaisakhi

Listen to the voices singing!
Listen to the drums beating!
See, they all are celebrating
the festival of new beginnings!

A day that’s revered and sacred.
Uniting all with a common thread.
The rituals and traditions may differ,
but not the emotions and fervor.

A day that marks Ganga’s descent
from the heavens to cleanse our sins.
Also, the bountiful harvest of spring
that the first day of this new year brings.

Look at the temple decorations,
the bustling fairs and processions.
People taking dips in the holy rivers,
the bhangra dances, and the langars.

The folk songs and prayer ceremonies
with the giving of alms to the needy.
And if you still can’t guess what day it is –
Let me tell you, my friend, it’s Vaisakhi!

I Know You Care

I know you care when you choose to pick
litter from the streets to keep them clean.

I know you care when you choose to speak
words that inspire instead of causing injury.

I know you care when you choose to sow
seeds that make evergreen forests grow.

I know you care when you choose to give
food and water to fellow brethren in need.

I know you care when you choose not to throw
chemical waste into the pristine rivers that flow.

I know you care when you choose not to spread
pollution that kills life with every breath.

I know you care when you choose not to assault
the ones who are weak and without any fault.

I know you care through what you do every day.
Your actions show more than the words you say.

I know you care when you continue on this way,
and I’ll follow you in this evangelism of caring.

Mind Matters

The mind is a trickster.
It’s like a shape shifter.
Searching for patterns
in realms of confusion.

At times, it falls in love
at the very first glance.
At times, it breaks up
after years of romance.

At times, it sees hope
in situations so dire.
At times, it gives up
after dousing the fire.

At times, it’s dreaming
of things so unreal.
At times, it’s thinking
of answers to riddles.

At times, it convinces
to walk down the path.
At times, it debates
the decision for hours.

Failures or successes –
Webs of perceptions
woven with the senses
by the lord of intellection.

What’s fruit for one man
is poison for the other.
Yes, it’s all in the mind,
my sisters and brothers.

Wings

This is the story of little Louie.
A story that tells the truth truly.
One fine day, he was on a tree
doing his bit chomping leaves.

And suddenly, what did he spy?
His own image in a pond nearby.
A lumpy green thing with eyes,
and short legs; he was surprised.

He shook his head with dejection.
Unhappy with his pudgy reflection.
In shock, disbelief, and depression,
he was dismayed at his situation.

And when the tears had been cried,
he went back to what he did in life.
Munching leaves with all his might.
Eating, eating without knowing why.

And there were times he did stray
towards the pond and see his image.
Repulsed he was with his ugliness.
Reviled, disgusted and so helpless.

And all he did was eat the leaves.
He did not smile, nor did he speak.
Rounder and greener became he.
Gobbling and nibbling on the tree.

Then came a moment on one day
when everything came to change.
Around himself, he spun a thread
spinning it till he covered himself.

Alone, he stayed in the darkness.
Not knowing what days lay ahead.
Memories reshaping in his head.
His body evolving in the little bed.

Hours ticked by, followed by days.
On the branch, his cocoon swayed.
The leaves he no longer craved.
The pond forgot he ever existed.

Till an invisible force shot through
his body, and all he did was push,
breaking the walls of the cocoon,
emerging in the dark like the moon.

Exhausted he was, a little confused,
suddenly aware of his form anew.
Wings on both his sides so colorful.
Spreading into a flight so beautiful.

The pride of the garden and bowers,
sipping only on nectar from flowers,
little Louie had come a lot farther
from his days as a pudgy caterpillar.

Oh, happiness and happiest of times
come to those who patiently abide
and believe in all the powers divine
to reveal the true wings of their lives.

Introspection

In moments that I can call my own,
Negotiating with my muddled mind,
Turbulent thoughts shout and echo
Reaching out for help but can’t find.
Opens then my third eye to look within,
See through the forest of confusion,
Peel away the layers that mar vision,
Enlightening myself by introspection –
Concious and deep inner examination
Till the muddy waters settle to reveal
Inside me are the answers that I seek.
Overcoming all that’s overwhelming,
Never forgetting and forever evolving.

PS: This is an acrostic poem penned by me. Do join the first letter of each line and see the word that is revealed.

I’m a Woman

I’m the morning mist veiling the green hills.
I’m the silvery dew dazzling on rose petals.
I’m the raindrops creating rainbows in the skies.
I’m the still lake reflecting bits of sunshine.

I’m the tidal wave crashing on sandy shores.
I’m the flashflood uprooting the earth’s floor.
I’m the hurricane sweeping everything in my way.
I’m the hailstorm destroying cities in a day.

I’m the drizzle bringing forth trees from seeds.
I’m the river giving all souls the final release
I’m the delta spawning civilizations that bred.
I’m the ocean churning up both life and death.

I’m not limited by my shape or the path I make.
I’m not limited by my color or the form I take.
I’m pure, I’m sacred, I’m the incarnation of strength.
I’m gentle, I’m powerful, I’m water – I’m a woman.

God is Near

Some say He resides in the Heavens
and can only be reached by penance.
Some say He can be found in temples,
big or small, as per the many religions.

But the truth is this, and it’s what I say.
That He is near and just a prayer away.
Sometimes He’s in a hand that helps.
Sometimes He’s in a voice that tells.

He is the creator of the entire Universe.
He could never be bound by stone walls.
He is in the air we breathe every day.
He is on the paths we take on our ways.

His will is what keeps our hearts beating.
His words are a guide for those listening.
With Him, the stormiest night I can face.
For I know that He’s just a prayer away.

How I Played Holi

It’s Holi morning! I want to play with the colors.
I pick up the packets of red and yellow powders.
And run with these to smear on my elder brother.
But he gets away as he can run much faster.

I think my baby sister would like to be colored pink.
So I walk to her small cradle, shouting, “Happy Holi!”
But I’m shooed away quickly by my grandmother,
Who said, “If only she was a little older, and I, a little younger!”

So then, I decide to spray the colors on my mother.
But she’s making sweets and should not be bothered.
Finally, I feel my father would surely celebrate with me.
So I search the house, but he’s at the market – shopping.

It’s the festival of colors. Who do I play with?!
Suddenly, I see Kanha in the prayer room beckoning.
I rush there and color His face with the gulaal.
No one saw it, but I played Holi with Nandlaal.

Memories

Memories of the past surround me.
Sometimes, I’m sad; sometimes, elated.
The paths of Fate are indeed cruel.
They meet only to be separated.
When I saw you first,
my world became anew.
I had never guessed
my heart was going askew.
Shy as you were
like a beautiful deer,
You were always close to me
and so very, very dear.
When you laughed,
the strings of the sitar rang.
When you talked,
the notes of the flute sang.
When you would cry and shed a tear,
the music of the veena filled the air.
So simple you were.
Unaffected by modernity,
and yet complete in every way.
You were an ocean of beauty.
Your eyes were like unfathomable lakes
At the bottom of which shone bright stars.
You were my true inspiration.
I was a lock, and you – my key.
Your unending love always besieged me.
I loved you, and you loved me.
Your face is engraved in my dreams.
Your memories, in my heartbeat.
My mind will always search for you
when cruel loneliness surrounds me.

A Christmas Feast

Just a dollop of happiness
with a sprinkle of cheer.
Nothing more and nothing less
for everyone on earth.

Just a serving of kindness
with a side of true love.
Nothing more and nothing less
for everyone on earth.

Just a slice of peacefulness
with a spread of contentment.
Nothing more and nothing less
for everyone on earth.

This is my wish for Christmas –
A feast for all our souls.
Something spiritually scrumptious –
A feast for one and all.

This is my wish for Christmas –
So we may learn to give
and make this world a better place
for everyone who lives.

On Happiness

So, since when did happiness become a problem?
Didn’t God make all of us in a likeness of His own?
We spent millions searching for a gene or chromosome,
and describing all the neurotransmitters in tomes.

Did we find the secret to everlasting contentment?
A pill, powder, or syrup to eliminate all resentment?
Could we capture exuberance in a little bottle
for a shot of exhilaration to put life in full throttle?

Why did it take us centuries to finally realize
how happiness can be manifested in our lives?
That, at times, we need to stop spinning on our axes
and seek within ourselves a state of pure bliss.

A touch, a melody, a fragrance, a taste, a picture
that revives a memory or creates a feeling of rapture.
Being thankful for all that was, is, and yet to come.
And giving away things to those who have none.

Not all of us were born with a silver spoon,
but we all have what it takes to be happy as a boon.
Just like a basket is spoilt by one rotten apple,
a smile easily spreads the jollity virus in people.

Light is best appreciated when there is darkness.
Just so, life is balanced by cheerfulness and sadness.
And if you need guidance, take a look at the little ones.
So, since when did happiness become a problem?