The Real YOU

 

assorted color mask
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The Real YOU

 

Oh, so desperately I want to see the real you.

Oh no, not the facade, the real you.

No,not the fake you.

The unpretentious, unpolished you.

 

The YOU, with whom I can talk without being conscious

The YOU, to whom I can bare my vulnerable heart

The YOU, with whom I can take a leap of faith

The YOU, to whom I can talk about my hidden fears

 

Please be that YOU

Please . . .

 

 

 

 

 

The Rain

Water Droplets on Gray Textile

 

The gentle pearl-grey wind entangled my hair a little more

The sparkling moonlit raindrops drenched me and my soul to the core

That ecstatic moment on a sandy shore

I love, I cherish and really adore.

 

I loved the aroma and loved the touch

The sand melted under my feet as such

But I felt peaceful inside and outside

That beautiful night I really adore

When I walked with him in rain on that sandy shore.

 

The Scary Mirror . . .

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Photo by Christopher Hiew on Pexels.com

We fear what we hear

We cringe and try to disappear

 

We fear, What we see in the mirror

The scary lousy (un)truthful  mirror

 

Prisoners of our own reflection

We fear the rejection

Why?

 

She did it

You did it

Even I did it

Why?

 

You are FAT like a filthy pig

You are THIN like a stingy pin

You are FRECKLED like a dirty frog

You are PLAIN like a useless board

You are BLACK like a sweaty buffalo

You are BROWN like a clumsy gruffalo

And You, You are WHITE like a soggy marshmallow

 

Abusing, blaming and needless naming –

this is what if not body-shaming?

 

A thought-provoking article on body shaming:

https://magdalene.co/news-2045-mirror-mirror-on-the-wall-the-perennial-problem-of-body-shaming-.html

 

A Mother Never Dies

A Mother Never Dies

 

Close Up of Leaf

 

She only leaves the mortal body

to go to the heavenly abode

She only shifts from here to there

But it is true that a mother never dies …

 

You have seen the pyre

You have felt the numb coldness

You have done the rituals

You have heard the puraan

But it is true that a mother never dies …

 

Because the next day you wake up

You go to her room as all the other days

You see the empty bed, then you look at her photo on the wall

Her smile in the photo makes you smile

As it is true that a mother never dies …

 

Because after a few days while cleaning a shelf

You find a letter she wrote much ago to ask “Are you fine?”

You mumbles gently, “Ya, I am doing fine”

You heave a deep sigh, clutches the letter tight and smile

As it is true that a mother never dies …

 

Because after a few months while rummaging an old drawer

You find the red bangles she gave you on your first Karvachauth

You sit there for a while caressing those memories in your hand

You wear those bangles once again and smile

As it is true that a mother never dies …

 

Because after a few years while resetting an old cupboard

You find your first silk saree that she bought for you

You admire that saree once again and wrap it around you

You get lost in the memory lane and smile

As it is true that a mother never dies …

 

Because after a few decades while visiting your daughter’s house

Your daughter looks at you lovingly

Hugs you tightly and whispers in your ears

“Mamma, you resemble grandmaa so much!”

Her words make you smile

As it is true a mother never dies …

 

Moreover …

Many times when life becomes tough

And treats you rough

You can’t take it anymore and cry

Sad and shattered, you look at the night sky

A star shines on you, and twinkles a lil more

In those moments you are sure

That it is true …

A mother never dies …

 

P.S. – For all who lost their mother.

******************************************************************************

 

The Visit

via Daily Prompt: Trill

Trill

Image result for orphanage clipart

 

The trill of their voices still on my mind

Though I had left them a fortnight behind.

Neatly combed and properly tied-up laces,

Taught to be quiet, those dressed up faces.

But those eyes …

Those eyes I can’t forget.

Emptiness and longing in there

I think is beyond repair.

Today in the cold morning holding each other’s hands

Tied by many unseen strands.

Once Abandoned and deserted on garbage loads

Born behind closed doors then left to die on roads.

Curiosity flickered in their eyes for a while

Two or three in fact happened to smile

A few tried to break the monotony of standing in a line

When I extended the gifts in a pile.

They are the ones who know how to survive

Even in utter dejection and incessant strife

Some of them,  I BELIEVE, will eventually shine,

Will rise above the stigma, their lives almost fine

This sums up my visit to an orphanage

But …

What remains …

The echo of trilling and tweeting in the haze?

Ode to Parkinson’s

 Parkinson's

I got the shock of my life last night

When my mother saw me but failed to recognize.

Once strong like a mountain, now she is ill and fragile

Parkinson’s has taken a toll on her ability to survive.

Oh! What have you done to the woman who used to thrive with life?

 

Her once capable hands shake continuously

Making her unable and reliant; and this perturbs her profusely.

Her once high and proud head is now drooped habitually.

Her once unwavering and kind eyes are now all vague and lost strangely.

Oh! What have you done to the woman who faced every odd so bravely?

 

When I called her “Mamma,” she turned her face to me in vain

And tried to grope in the dark to get a signal from her brain.

I heard the angry pitter patter on the window pane of cold winter rain

I felt the cruelty of old age and tried to hide a tear of pain

Oh! What have you done to the woman who taught me not to feign?

 

Oh! Dear God! Something changed in those senile but still beautiful eyes

My mother narrowed her gaze on me, it felt like getting the most coveted prize.

“Don’t cry, don’t be afraid, my dear,” she repeated her old advice

Her words broken and unclear but still so wise.

Oh! See this woman who never fails to rise and shine!

 

You can take away everything from a MOTHER, You shoddy,

But not the MOTHERHOOD, embedded in every particle of her body.