As much as I try hard to think , I can’t think of any disaster sort of situation in my life. blame it on my forgetful nature or the fact that I don’t let any event ‘s feelings clog my memories and moods for long. But if there can be any day that I can disastrous , it be the only day at my job when I got scolded really bad by my PM. I can not recall the details but all I know is that I acted lazy and careless that week and so by Thursday , my module was much delayed. Friday was declared a sudden holiday so the panic set in by lunch. It was a miracle sort that the task was finished with help from PM and another senior team mate. I had never been so embarrassed in my life before that. and I have made sure the record stays so.
This reminds me of disaster management session we had in our office last month. It was related to natural or the locally created disaster situations and how people should respond to it w.r.t work. Later that night , I thought about how thinking clear , being pro active , being independent , asking for timely help , re-evaluating our actions and having a backup plan ready is so damn important. All this seems to take a lot of time but it eventually saves a lot of time and effort.
Do you have yourself covered for disasters ?
different words -
feeding on emotions same
fear , hatred , anger;
some one got the thrills,
corrupted by the power
of the mask worn;
growing each day
from terror her eyes showed;
indulging in the game
outside the boundaries
once well drawn.
Hunted she was,
and maybe always,
haunted she would stay;
by the scars
his vile intentions
would become her nightmare.
She got rid of the letters and the gifts the day she met a prospective groom for the first time. Later one night, she found the only photograph of his, hidden in her favorite book. His smile looked different , heart broken almost. She realized he wanted her to wait. And she did. All her life.
The same december month,
exactly an year back,
below the dark blanket of night,
I found a friend in you.
half crazy, half fun,
a newly discovered color
on my life canvas.
Now again its december,
but I know not where you are,
you waited long, I know
you held on to your faith
I know.And me,
while sorting new threads
broke the one strand
that took the best colors
from the stars of last december..
This is a translation of the following poem (in hindi)
isi december ke mahine me,
theek ek saal pehle,
sardi ki kaali raaton me,
chat par kone me baithe,
ek dost banaya tha maine…
thoda natkhat, thoda paagal,
meri zindagi ke canvas
me ek alag sa hi rang ..
aaj fir december aaya hai,
khabar nahi mujhe uski
vo intezaar kar chala gaya
main naye dhaagon ko suljhaate
us dor ko tod baithi
jo kabhi pichli december
taaron tale baandhi thi …
Written for Months of the year challenge season 2
A lso linked to Open Link night @ dVerse Pub
Strings of my life jiggle
early memories;quality time,
none i can keep close.
Written for Haiku-Heights , 3WW
Often he thinks,
how she would remember him;
the voice that filled her
or the silence she talked,
the images on her laptop
or the blurred ones in heart,
the kiss of first meeting
or the awkward hug of last,
Will he find himself
Dissected on canvas sheets?
as she tries to paint the feelings
her words failed to express,
Will he be branded as the lava
that burnt into her defenses
and left her marked forever
without fear of consequence.
or will he deserve forgiveness
in the name of forgotten past
and be just a name to her
not even the way she called.
And he laughs loudly
at his desperate thoughts
that walked away to be forgotten
and now desire not to be lost.
This poem was inspired from the lines
“Will he find himself,
Dissected on canvas sheets?”
from a poem by MindlovesMisery .
Its a full moon night again – the night you so loved and will always love.
I still remember talking to the moon about you and hoping you would call.
You had your own days to call, your moods and your rules, your .. everything was yours.
I was your friend , I was your entertainment , I was your kind of person – whatever that meant.
But the moon was not yours – even though I loved it ’cause of you, It was mine.
It woke me up at midnight and told you have not slept. I used to text to ask.
It sang me lullaby, the days I would wait for your call while you slept early.
It came down to my window on days I ignored it;as if complaining to me.
It.. Its everything to me many nights. even on no moon day, I know its there.
Unlike you.. who came to teach me love and gifted me pain the same time.
Unlike you.. who wished to stay alone yet attracted me the same time.
Unlike you .. who was so out of my reach yet appeared almost mine.
who moved out of sight,not out of mind,yet will never out of my life -
You made me a lover of yours and the moon alike …
You love your eggs half-cooked and you never ceased to remind me of that fact. Every breakfast of mine including eggs will ensure we have this very conversation ending when I would invite you for breakfast at my place and promise to make it according to your taste. Though you never came, I do practice making half-cooked eggs – perfect enough for me to nibble the corners and leave the rest for you to finish out of my hands.
the tears one try to suppress;
silence showers pain.
Finally i managed to write a haibun as prompted by Victoria here. Ideas for the post from Magpie Tales [image] , Haiku heights , Sensational Haiku Wednesday
I still remember well
when I saw him last;
the paper brown dress
and the matching cap.
bundles of folded paper
some colored some bland
delivering all to right place
yet never seen empty hand.
“where is my letter sir”
I never failed to ask
“no one wrote to you dear”
he said and he had a laugh.
So when I was able to spell
I promptly set myself to task
and wrote a one-liner to me
to give to him next time he passed.
He never came that day or next
i forgot of him and the mail
and now I we no longer see them
since people learned of emails.
Written for PAD challenge day 4 , Sunday Scribbling , Poetry Potluck
Between the loud conversation
in the overlapping pauses
we look at each other
from corner of the eye;
the silence has its riches -
i take a sip of its memories,
you nibble at the dreams
while our present connects us,
with the painful realization
that no words can be persuasive
enough to bind you to me
no feelings can trap yours
You are as much unknown
as my heart feels you inside
as much toxic is your presence
as heavenly seems your touch
your eyes overpower my words
and the remaining breaths
you seal with one last kiss
your musty essence erasing me -
one goodbye that was to be final,
I realized it not then,fortunately.
Prompted @ We Write Poems , Three Word Wednesday
Maya fell in love with him the very first time she met him. But she did not know this then. Every time they met , she came more and more impressed with him , his manners , his ideals and his way to live. He was there to help any one who asked , any one who needed but was shy to ask. You just had to tell him about some one in trouble and if he could, he would help. The hours spent talking to him on call , the daily meeting for samosa and tea after college , the movies where he slept throughout, she always looked forward to these moments even if they never were alone. But she lacked the courage to accept that she loved him. Theirs was a group of friends hanging together always, she the most shy of them all but he managed to make her talk. Only he could make her agree to all the stupid plans they made for any free day. But she never realized it. It wasn’t time yet maybe.
Then he proposed her best friend. She had never seen them so happy. And so Maya was happy too. As luck would have it, the relation lasted less than a month. No reasons asked , no explanations given initially. But he still accepted her calls , talked to her of the day and soon he began to talk of the relation that was , how he wanted it and why it ended. Her best friend resented him talking to Maya and there would be arguments every other day whenever his call came. He cried for weeks – Maya listened patiently. His pain turned into anger – Maya fared through that too. He made work his life – Maya still managed to be there. But still she had no courage to talk to him about herself , about them. She feared rejection. She feared losing the friendship.
And one day he went away for further studies. For few months she still got calls from him, but every time she wanted to say how much she missed him , he talked of her best friend.
Her best friend is married to love of her life . He is lost in folds of time and memories . And Maya is nursing the pain she got for herself.
You are not just a page
in the diary of time I lived
but more like a bookmark
to the time I lived a lie…
Prompted @ March Challenge [ day 17 - Courage ] , Theme Thursday [ luck ] , Thursday tale [ image prompt]
Prompted @ Magpie Tales
You hated it all your life
yet you loved my curries -
how could you not know
it had the garlic,you loathed.
It never gave the peculiar aroma
that might have given it away
for that I was always thankful
since you relished so much the taste.
Each morning i would peel them
and store them in tiny container,
and to further hide it from you
i pushed them into the corner.
With time you forgot about me,
and i forgot the tiny garlic cloves
sitting in the same place all while
they turned into rotten stuff.
The sickening smell filled my space
like your memories trapped my heart
the garlic i could throw out of my home
I guess,that was the much needed start.
No more garlic , no more flavors, no stink
You loved , but no more , the feelings finally sink.
Prompted @ Magpie Tales , Submitted to One Stop Poetry
Every other night she would wake up, sweating and breathing hard.She exactly knows the reason behind this, but can not control her actions. And every such night she feels guilty for ever being touched by him. He,the caring cousin who fondeled her childhood with his unchecked hormonal drive and triggered her sick dreams.
Submitted to friday flash55
Moods were blue,
blue not of the sky,
sky was of shade dark
dark like my sorrow,
sorrow took form of tears
tears that fell on heart,
heart’s door opened
open just to let memories
memories of you Inside.
Written for One Shot Wednesday
I need to kill boredom,
not that i have nothing else to do
but i still wanted something new;
I ask you for some ideas,
another attempt to make you
speak something;tired to see you mute.
You give me some hard looks
eager to let your imagination
descend into the books you read;
But also aware that will not rest
unless you provide me an object
to keep myself engrossed and busy.
So you send me off to the attic
to search for the grandmom’s album
that no one seen has seen in ages
Am glad i went off at once
without another thought to the task
now that i hold in my hand,the rewards.
This image of her and her sisters
she kept below the pillow on her bed;
i never saw her this happy till the very end.
Will you and me fade the same way
just in each other heart;or will i have
your hands to hold when i beath my last.
I might have been thinking aloud,
’cause you come and hold me close
and whisper in a surreal tone,”love you a lot”.
Inspired from Magpie Tales & 3WW