Freaky mind

Life in constant war with death

by no means I was involved.

it was war of a century

but I never knew where it was,

in or out.

Followed everyone's path

with fierceness

with a fife near my lips

looked here & there

with utmost fervour.

Deep inside me

was a gazebo

but i found nothing to gaze

just the material earth & the kinetic sky

with the war behind.

Became a kleptomaniac

from everybody's looks

became lame & tensed

when i tried to keep one foot at a step

peeking behind for the warriors to take me,

from me within.

closed my eyes & prayed till nothing happened

it was all a freaky mind

with nothing ever happened

and nothing to discover in it.

granny

As i pay my tribute to githanjali.. i dedicate one of her poems to my granny written by githanjali..
The Heart of gold
Grannies are many
And many more there will be
But this Granny
I am talking about
Is none other than
My Bibi.

My granny is not
just mine
(though very much she's my own)
she's in no small measures too
yes, that's exactly, what she is
with a heart of gold and as large
As the ocean wide.

Sympathetic she is to the core
she'll deny herself a morsel
And feed u more
She is always there when needed
sunshine, rain or thunder
Whether it will cost her health
She little cares for that
just that moment all she cares
Is that you need her care.

If i am not much in pain
Its because....
She's on war path with HIM
Her prayers go hand in hand
with my grandpa's
Knock the doors of
Heaven above
And melt the heart of god.

I worship the ground
she walks on, and kiss her
with my eyes --- bless her soul!
She is the most adorable
cause, she's not just my grandma
she's the maker of my mother divine.

When she laughs
i like her best
for she has those moments rare
I pray to god and wish her well
for all the times to come
may god give her
tons of courage
to cover my form
With a touch -of-iron
In her heart of gold.

gitanjali

i was going through one of my mothers poccession .. a book of poems by githanjali..... i came to know her pain, her distress thorugh her poems.. this girl of sixteen ,called gitanjali, died of cancer and her mother came t know of these poems several months later after her death..

As i was going through the book, i felt some phrases, which felt some closeness between me and githanjali.. may be the feelings of our inner self, would be similar or we in other words, we were sharing the same feelings.. only thing she wrote the poems ,after she accepted the reality, the reality of death..

i quote some of her mind here , which i felt very close to mine..
The Sound Of Silence
The sound of silence
is over-bearing
my feeble heart & soul.
Its knawing at me,
day and night, even
when people around
me are galore.

The sound of silence
is deffening for i am
carried away by my thoughts
even though when its a
pin -drop silence
my mind is in chaos.

There are so many questions
i ask myself
but meet a sound proof wall
the same sound...
of silence
bounces back
and hits me hard.

This sound of silence
will soon one day
carry me to the ...
silent tower
which i often see
in my dreams...
upon the hill top.

The way to the tower
is well trodden
hence
i am not afraid to go
for i have not sinned
or wronged any living soul..

womans day

I know that i am being very lazy now a days.. but lots of work to do.. being a woman is so tough but i love womanhood.. well yesterday was the day for women.. but i think, each day is ours.. we inherit lots of qualities than men.. i am not being a feminist by saying so.. i just meant that we may be more stronger mentally than physically.. our feelings are in our hands.. and our freedom of expressions are vast.. but men they do have their limitations, but enjoy more of their freedom..
But anyhow we cannot live without men around.. even though some of them make us the most uncomfortable person ..
Anyways hats off to those many women , who have achieved a lot in life and has made our country proud.. i bow before my mother and her ancestors who has given me the freedom to be what i am.. and to think beyond what they thought..