Saturday, 27 June 2015

shaken awake

this wet June morning
rudely shaken awake on bed
on lips, Guru’s mantras
mind in fear of the earth’s trap
trembling hands pulling up pants

outside - unusual
empty of people and dogs
parked cars - calm, still
my fear gradually settling
wondered what news on tv

for a moment
no news – uneasy feeling
we waited, staring
at the screen, news channel on
seemed like a pretty long wait

and then “earthquake”
“in Assam,” India News said
our minds travelled
wondering about the east
yes tremors felt, no damage

Tuesday, 23 June 2015

a gallery of photographs

another Haibun attempt...

I am at a gallery of photographs…of events. I quickly notice two broad categories. One has everything in order, can’t make out if people are happy or not, enjoying or not. The other is chaotic, full of laughter, people appear to be having fun.

I imagine randomly selected photographs displayed on tables in a classroom. I wonder if they’d work as stimuli for discussion among students. Would it inspire learning? Would teaching sparkle? 

a gallery walk
stories looming large, flowing deep
my mind travels

Monday, 22 June 2015

so she took a ride

She lived in a concrete jungle –
a mundane life
duty bound
devoid of passion.

She was bored
as if her soul had been sucked out of her.

From her bedroom window,
she would often stare
at the mountain tops;
they seemed to beckon to her.

She heard the whistling winds
whisper messages into her ear;
and when the sky was a clean blue canvas,
she read notes being painted on it.

They were invitations!

Those were the moments she cherished -
her boredom forgotten
her soul back in safe haven.

Words came easy -
flowing gently on paper;
her mind singing,
her soul dancing.

And then she’d be engulfed
by the concrete jungle;
her cherished moment frozen.

Change was just an oscillation
between these moments;
and liberation
a mirage in the desert.

So, she took a ride -
the winding roads
forested roadsides
scarce settlements
all feeding her soul.

It was the beginning of her journey to liberation.

She takes a blade

I attempted this Haibun (combination of two poems - a prose poem and haiku, popularized by the 17th century Japanese poet Matsuo Basho) not long ago after watching the movie 'Hemlock Society.'

She takes a blade. Her hands shake, as she sobbingly holds it above her wrist. Her hair, her clothes, are all wet from standing under the shower. Her tears flow in unison with the water, unabated. She is heartbroken! Her man has been caught kissing another girl.

The blade failing its business, she curls up in bed. Her sobs won't stop. She feels hurt. She feels anger. She hears screams inside her head.

Restless, she stands on her bed, shirking off her feelings in ugly vigorous gestures. Off her bed, she throws every object in sight, her screams muffled. What else can she do?

Dying is her only option at this moment of despair. The blade fails her, so she schemes another way of ending her deeply felt unbearable sorrow. Next moment, she is at the door of her father’s place, ringing the doorbell anxiously.

the moon half smiles – at
a distance, a shadow-dance
her heartbeat racing