Me ,myself and I

Whilst I was attempting...
To peep out of my closet;
My silly fears started grinning again...
But then as I sensed the adrenaline pumping;
They weren't my foes after all...
Conquering my all powerful phobias;
Gave me a high...
Slowly with all humility...
I knew I was raising the bar...
Friend..or..foe...it's all within me;
I embrace my soul...with all its complexities;
Befriending myself forever.

My job or u'rs

They dumped upon me...
Work which I thought...
Was not my job.
Frowns showed up;
As I took it up;
And the essence went all sour...
And as the moist breeze kissed me...
Whilst my ambulance ride...
 I realized ...
Work is what I m here for...
Work well done is contentment...BUT;
Work done out of joy is bliss...
& I resented not putting up my best smile...as I took up my part.

whilst i was stirring

The raws looking all colourful...
Ready for the whistle;
It simply struck me...
What if there wud be no fire beneath my cooker...
My sambhar wud never be.
As I was smiling......
At the folly of my silly thought;
I realized ...
There's so much...
My hubby's luv;
My parent's blessings...my kanna's grace;
My senses by me;
The roof above;
My satiety all appeased;
The nature abiding by our safety;
The obedient machines....
This much and so much more...
That I've always taken for granted...

If only

As words pour off...I wish ;
If i could recite ...
Unto u're sweet ears...
That u may smile tenderly...
And nudge me gently;
While u reshape my thoughts...
Appreciate my good..
&help me shun the not so right..
With thou eyes if I
Could see thou world...
Then my words ...Would be etched in gems forever.

counting on a hobby

To be in peace with oneself...
Is an art worth investing;
If colors give u joy...
Paint the world;
If its a tune...
Sing u're heart out;
If prayers calm u...
Chant them;till u know u exist;
If flavours delight u...
Cook for the mankind at vast;
To everyone  his task...
his way to attain God...
Coz its worth investing.....To find u'reself once a while.

worth a try

Some are sheer joy...
Delight in every ounce of existence;
I strive ...&strive yet again...
To be one...
One amongst the scarce.
Difficult it may seem...
But pure pleasure it is...
To strive every moment...
Coz u're a victory...
As long as u try...

...awaiting the dead...

The blazing fire as it spreads its ugly wings...
Consumed many hopes...
Under its ruthless desires...
Perished many souls;
Roaming aimlessly the dead are screaming for justice.
Near ones wait endlessly ...
Anticipating miracles...
Falling castles of hopes,dreams,prayers and joy...
Mumbai blasts are tales of horror...
Of Desperate People Making A Living Out Of Unassuming Lives...

expression

Writing is to my soul...
 What an  idol is to a priest...
What honey is to a bee...
What my hubby is to me;
It strikes a divine chord.
And as i write...
I feel my muscles release...the tension easing
And as i devour the essence of the ink that I blotted on the white;
I suddenly begin to feel good...
My words may be crude...But;
It conveys my feelings true...

Awaiting the dead

learning gujju the gossip way

Aha..so following my heart...my hubby that is, i reached Ahmedabad....that is not seven seas away anyone may claim...but the language barrier..i never understood a word of gujju and never in my worst nightmare thought i would ever have to...But destiny paves it differently and weirdly 4 each of us...And mine has landed m in this soup....and here i am keenly wanting to share and understand the tiniest joke ,gossip and relevant information too...but words hit m bang bang bang....My eyes popping out to assimilate...my ears fanning out and head throbbing...all this and much more to understand gujarati...But its gossip ...the curiosity of it which actually motivates...U don't wanna surely miss on this one...So my dear ,i'll cross a thousand seas 4 u the chilled way...hmm the gossip way...

beginner's panic

Dating back to the time when i wanted to b a writer...just after having finished my hsc...and i thought this is just what i must b doing...i can vividly remember the day when mom was cooking and i tried to approach her meekly and said '"mom its not mbbs...i wanna go for B.A literature", and mom was stunned and the typical mallu mom she is she asked me," why do u want to do it?"and i told her," may b i wanna b a writer muma"...And conveniently and confidently as ever she took me into her stride and aura as ever...she knew ..she always knew, i may rebel..but eventually....for me muma papa always had the final word...And muma said,"o.that....but u can always write after u've become a doctor."And i submitted to her wishes with little emotional upheavels.but today as i hold the pen...or tap these keys..i feel warm and happy...as ever muma was right i could always write...and i m glad i troded the path they felt was better...But after the years that passed i m unsure of how much  i could actually express...i've been so aloof on this front.Better late than never...so here i m...tapping merrily...afterall sharing is venting and fun....But the one thing i better get on hand urgently...that, i keep improvising is a dictionery...hmm.