I Have Memories

I have memories
Of strolling with my mother in the evenings.
Of the nippy, gentle autumn breeze,
And the bright red leaves falling from the trees.
Enamored, I used to run after these.
It was like being in a magical land of fairies.

I have memories
Of losing my heart to him.
Of the laughter and love I felt only in his company.
With him by my side, I was never lonely.
I felt so much like the orange colored autumn leaf
That twirled as his love-like zephyr swept me off my feet.

I have memories
Of Death scarring parts of me.
Of stealing moments that were lovely.
Everything around me seems to weep mournfully.
And, yellow autumn leaves glide gracefully
As the light wind guides them to their destiny.

Waste Not, Want Not!

Locked in her room, she’s busy writing poetry,
And the testament to her efforts
Are the pieces of crumpled paper on the floor.
Paper – that was once a life-giving tree

The house is busy with the wedding reception party.
The guests fill their plates with more than they can eat.
The rest is thrown in the garbage cans on the street.
Food – that in some houses is a scarcity.

It’s nighttime, and he’s brushing his pearly whites,
And as he does that while looking in the mirror,
The tap is running, and in the drain goes the water.
Water – for which some people trudge for miles.

It’s a hot summer, and the AC in the room is running.
But as she goes to the bedroom to lie down and sleep,
The AC and lights are left on, and they consume electricity.
Electricity – that in some homes is a luxury.

Waste not, want not!
Remember what you throw away
Are the very things for which others pray.
Instead, be grateful for these things that you’ve got!

Waste not, want not!
There is no alternative to Mother Earth.
As her children, we are all related.
So, use all things wisely, as these are all we’ve got!

The Rainbow – A Story

Once upon a long time ago,
There was a little village.
But, it was unlike the others
As the colors dwelled in it.

And, it had a single street
Where the colors lived.
Red, Blue, Yellow, Green,
Indigo, Orange, and Violet.

But, it wasn’t a happy place,
For the colors often fought.
Each vied to be the Captain,
The Leader of the entire lot.

And so, they tried very hard
To pull the other one down,
At times, through sabotage,
Or by other means unsound.

Then, one dark stormy night,
A wanderer sought shelter.
And he soon came to realize –
The colors hated each other.

As they sat around the fire,
They asked the wanderer,
“Who among us is Superior
And the one true Leader?”

In silence, sat the wanderer,
Then he said he had a plan,
But, to decide the winner,
They’d have to stand in line.

So, as the night disappeared
And the sky turned a dull grey,
The colors stood together,
Held hands and stretched.

Violet, Indigo, Blue, Green
Yellow, Orange and Red,
Side by side were seen,
In a rainbow in the Heavens.

“So now tell us,” they yelled,
“Who among us is better?”
“You can see for yourselves,”
Replied the wise wanderer.

Then, it dawned on all of them
That each one was beautiful
With a place in the spectrum
And that they were equals, too.

As the wanderer left the village
With the rainbow in the skies,
He left peace and love in his wake,
And the hope for happy times.

The Mirror and the Girl

“You’re fat!” The mirror said
As she looked at her reflection in it.
“Actually, fat is not even correct.
If there’s a word beyond its superlative,
Then, that word would be accurate.”

“But,” in defense, she retaliated,
“Years ago, there was that incident,
Due to which I was badly affected.
I eat whenever I feel stressed.
Food comforts me, and I can’t help it.”

“Be that as it may,” the mirror stated.
“There’s a lot of weight on your waist.
Actually, it is not a waist but a waste.
Rolls of fat piled up from all you ate.
A little less of that, and you’d look great.”

“Yes!” She agreed, “Please be empathetic.
I have been trying to exercise and diet.
I start, but find it difficult to stick to it.
Cardio, walking, aerobics, and weights –
I try hard, but it always gets interrupted.”

Back at her, the mirror just stared.
“Stop making excuses!” It declared.
“All that ever matters is the present,
And it’s true that you’re unhealthy and fat.
Actually, fat is not even correct…”

Before it could complete its statement,
She struck it, and it broke into fragments.
Victorious, she screamed, “Take that!”
And around her, the thousand little bits
In unison retorted, ” You know, you’re fat!”

Dear Time

Dear Time!
Only fools think that they can bind
You in seconds, minutes, hours, and days
Like a captive held in a cage.

Dear Time!
You flow like the river of Life.
Paradoxical, you are in your ways,
As a minute can be like seconds or days!

Dear Time!
With a clock, you can’t be defined.
It only takes a glance into the week’s days
To understand how you really play.

Dear Time!
Monday is your first child.
Looming high like a stony mountain.
Getting over it is such a pain.
It’s really difficult to comprehend
How its hours get so stretched.

Dear Time!
Tuesday is your second child.
Spreading like a path across rocky terrain.
A milder hike as Monday’s inertia remains,
Yet, it demands a lot of strength
And stamina to get to the day’s end.

Dear Time!
Wednesday is your third child.
Winding like a track in a dusty landscape,
Forcing a brisk walk without a break.
For an escape, the heart begs,
But the minutes do not relent.

Dear Time!
Thursday is your fourth child.
Like a trail sloping downhill with grace,
It’s the middle of the entire trek.
The hours show lights in the distance
And prod the feet to keep trudging.

Dear Time!
Friday is your fifth child.
Like a boulevard with colors that blaze,
Promising fun in the sunset’s haze.
The day starts picking up pace
And whizzes by as the weekend is ahead.

Dear Time!
Saturday is your sixth child.
Like a piazza to party and celebrate,
To rejoice, make merry and just revel.
The minutes shrink as they rush away,
And the day ends even before it begins.

Dear Time!
Sunday is your seventh child.
Like a bed that with a soft mattress is laid
To rest and just recuperate.
The seconds slow down with elegance
As it’s time to meditate and give thanks.

Dear Time!
No one can decide
How you would ever behave!
Only fools think you can be caged
In seconds, minutes, hours, and days!

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.

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.

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.

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!

Doors

Nia sat alone in her room.
With curtains drawn, shrouded in gloom.
Her mother slowly knocked at the door.
Then, entered it to find her sitting on the floor.
On seeing her mother, Nia started crying,
“Why, mom? Why? After all this trying?”
Tears ran down her big brown eyes.
As her mother sat near her and sighed.
Holding Nia’s hand, she gently spoke,
“When one door closes, another will open.”
“Really?!” Nia screamed incredulously.
“Why was this door open if it wasn’t meant for me?
And if the next one is indeed the one, what’s that guarantee?
It’s just hopeless!!” She tearfully said continuously.
“Nia,” said her mother, “Listen to me carefully.
Each door that opens has behind it a sea of possibilities,
And every door that closes leaves us with some learnings.
When a new door opens, those turn into experiences,
Which are guiding stars as we navigate unknown oceans.
Add hard work and determination, and you’ll reach your destination.
All you need to do is reassess your priorities and abilities,
And seek to improve in the areas that need it.
So, let’s see what you could do better for this examination,
And let’s also keep our minds open to other career options.”
Having said that, she drew open the heavy curtains.
As sunshine entered the room and brightened everything,
Nia wiped her face and got up from the cold floor.
She felt ready for whatever lay beyond the next open door.