The fatigue seeps in
As the journey goes on
And the cool breeze of a rainy day
Sweeps in through the window
To ruffle my hair.
I despair -
I came home to sleep
In my mother's lap
And let her weave dreams
While caressing my hair.
And yet I find myself
Beckoned to actions
Of no visible joy.
And then,
To derive solace
I adopt the following belief -
Those are Mom's blessings
Which are blowing in the wind.
[Written while traveling. During my Kolkata trip, June 2008]
Showing posts with label kolkata trip. Show all posts
Showing posts with label kolkata trip. Show all posts
Thursday, September 04, 2008
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Kid
The Need To Live
Dementia.
Cancer.
Angioplasty.
Paralysis.
Stroke.
‘She is bedridden for a year.’
‘But it is good that he did not suffer too much.’
‘Which hospital?’
‘Visiting hours?’
‘Her eyes were completely blank.
She didn’t even notice that we were there.’
In a city of ten million people,
Death is a daily occurrence.
But every so often,
A child is born.
And all one needs
To restore the will to live
Is to stare with wonder
At the smile of a child.

(written 24th June 2008, during my Kolkata trip)
Cancer.
Angioplasty.
Paralysis.
Stroke.
‘She is bedridden for a year.’
‘But it is good that he did not suffer too much.’
‘Which hospital?’
‘Visiting hours?’
‘Her eyes were completely blank.
She didn’t even notice that we were there.’
In a city of ten million people,
Death is a daily occurrence.
But every so often,
A child is born.
And all one needs
To restore the will to live
Is to stare with wonder
At the smile of a child.

(written 24th June 2008, during my Kolkata trip)
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Toothpaste
The sight of the twisted toothpaste at my friend’s place reminded me of my mom. By habit, I always follow instructions while squeezing paste out of a tube – "squeeze from bottom upwards". This results in the tube always having a uniform shape. However, back when I was in school and had just started having my own room and toilet, there were days when my mom would use my tube of paste. And on those days, the effect on the toothpaste tube would be devastatingly different. It would look stricken by some disease, with many contortions here and there. In one day, my mom would distort all my efforts at uniformity.
I tried to bear with my mom’s habit at first. But later, I took a strict stand – if she was to use my paste, she would have to use it my way. After repeated reminders, my mom finally learned to use toothpaste in my fashion.
That was years ago. I now wonder how my mom would have felt when her little child, who she had taught to walk, eat, talk, even brush, started scolding her about the proper usage of a toothpaste.

PS: This pic came up in Google Images when I searched for "toothpaste". I just had to post it. I thought that the following caption would create a nice connection with the above post:
"With its' twists and turns, life goes on..."
I tried to bear with my mom’s habit at first. But later, I took a strict stand – if she was to use my paste, she would have to use it my way. After repeated reminders, my mom finally learned to use toothpaste in my fashion.
That was years ago. I now wonder how my mom would have felt when her little child, who she had taught to walk, eat, talk, even brush, started scolding her about the proper usage of a toothpaste.

PS: This pic came up in Google Images when I searched for "toothpaste". I just had to post it. I thought that the following caption would create a nice connection with the above post:
"With its' twists and turns, life goes on..."
Wednesday, July 09, 2008
Memories Pops Out of Nowhere
On my visit to Kolkata,
Memories pop out of nowhere.
One day,
Car stuck at random intersection.
Tap at car window -
Hawker selling fare,
Sweet fruit called 'Aash Phol'.
As kids, we would spend afternoons
Devising ingeneous strategies
To bring these fruits
Down to earth.
'Fruits' of our labour,
Eh?
Of another summer holiday
Long gone past.
Another day,
An expert driver
Takes us through
The winding roads
Of a short-cut.
I read the signs
And I notice
The name of the road -
Gorfa.
A friend lived there,
A friend with similar tastes
In music and life.
He would always invite me home
But I never went
Giving one excuse or the other.
That day
I crossed his street
For the first time.
But our paths do not cross anymore
And probably never will -
But who knows?
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