Vidya Shankar's Blog, page 4
June 22, 2020
UNCANNY FICTION
The mystery fiction was un-put-down-able and nothing
Would have induced me to bring my nose out of it
But for the scowl of my husband who had walked in
On my reading to grimly remind me
Of a long working day on the morrow;
And of his hand pointing to two others
That showed time was proceeding towards midnight.
Yes, I had to sleep so I could do justice to the day
That would be breaking soon. Marking the page
I parted with the book, and with wavering hesitance
Got under the blankets.
I was soon fast asleep, and quite deeply too
And in the haze, I was startled all too suddenly
By a heavy repulsiveness creeping over me.
A chill down my spine
A heaviness around my stomach
My thighs locked between another pair
A smothering constriction in my face ―
Was that a pillow I was suffocated with?
Tried I to kick my feet about as much
As the movement would allow
And fiercely flailed my arms
Trying to push away the asphyxiating offence —
A moment of luck probably, and the pillow
Overturned. My face free, I screamed
Ear-splitting intense howls for help.
(Why wasn’t I opening my eyes?)
(Why wasn’t my husband coming to rescue me?)
But the heavy repulsiveness choked my cry
My mouth was gagged with cloth
Smelly and foul
I clawed my way fisting through strong arms
(Why wasn’t I opening my eyes?)
(Why wasn’t my husband coming to rescue me?)
And just as I yanked the obnoxious stuffing out
And threw it away, I jolted to wakefulness
Eyes open, gasping and sweating, I bolted upright
And tried to decipher the darkness and the silence.
All safe.
Gingerly, I got off my bed and tiptoed to peep
Into the adjacent room
My husband, earphones and spectacles in place
Sat at his computer, at his work, blissfully unaware
Of the noise I had made a few minutes earlier.
Slipping back to the bedroom, I switched on the light
The nightmare having left me too shaken to sleep
I picked up my book, opened at the bookmark
Began to read again the passage
I was last reading before giving in to sleep
And… I was hit by the words in the book ―
“A chill down her spine
A heaviness around her stomach
Her thighs locked between another pair
A smothering constriction in her face ―
Was that a pillow she was suffocated with?”
The book that I dropped then was a hot brick
I stared at it unbelievingly, breath held tight
Moments passed… moments of sickening suspense
But nothing uncanny happened
Regaining my breath and composure
I picked up the book again so I may read further
With the book came something else
Something soft, and (how did I know it?)
Smelly and FOUL!
My blood-curdling scream brought my ear plugged husband
Panic running to my side.
#vidyashankarpoetrywww.facebook.com
Would have induced me to bring my nose out of it
But for the scowl of my husband who had walked in
On my reading to grimly remind me
Of a long working day on the morrow;
And of his hand pointing to two others
That showed time was proceeding towards midnight.
Yes, I had to sleep so I could do justice to the day
That would be breaking soon. Marking the page
I parted with the book, and with wavering hesitance
Got under the blankets.
I was soon fast asleep, and quite deeply too
And in the haze, I was startled all too suddenly
By a heavy repulsiveness creeping over me.
A chill down my spine
A heaviness around my stomach
My thighs locked between another pair
A smothering constriction in my face ―
Was that a pillow I was suffocated with?
Tried I to kick my feet about as much
As the movement would allow
And fiercely flailed my arms
Trying to push away the asphyxiating offence —
A moment of luck probably, and the pillow
Overturned. My face free, I screamed
Ear-splitting intense howls for help.
(Why wasn’t I opening my eyes?)
(Why wasn’t my husband coming to rescue me?)
But the heavy repulsiveness choked my cry
My mouth was gagged with cloth
Smelly and foul
I clawed my way fisting through strong arms
(Why wasn’t I opening my eyes?)
(Why wasn’t my husband coming to rescue me?)
And just as I yanked the obnoxious stuffing out
And threw it away, I jolted to wakefulness
Eyes open, gasping and sweating, I bolted upright
And tried to decipher the darkness and the silence.
All safe.
Gingerly, I got off my bed and tiptoed to peep
Into the adjacent room
My husband, earphones and spectacles in place
Sat at his computer, at his work, blissfully unaware
Of the noise I had made a few minutes earlier.
Slipping back to the bedroom, I switched on the light
The nightmare having left me too shaken to sleep
I picked up my book, opened at the bookmark
Began to read again the passage
I was last reading before giving in to sleep
And… I was hit by the words in the book ―
“A chill down her spine
A heaviness around her stomach
Her thighs locked between another pair
A smothering constriction in her face ―
Was that a pillow she was suffocated with?”
The book that I dropped then was a hot brick
I stared at it unbelievingly, breath held tight
Moments passed… moments of sickening suspense
But nothing uncanny happened
Regaining my breath and composure
I picked up the book again so I may read further
With the book came something else
Something soft, and (how did I know it?)
Smelly and FOUL!
My blood-curdling scream brought my ear plugged husband
Panic running to my side.
#vidyashankarpoetrywww.facebook.com
May 15, 2020
Take a Breather
Take a breathing break, take a breathing break
Heed to the comforting feeling of being awake
To the monotonous dictates of moneyed pressure
Say nay, though not necessarily altogether.
When shuffling your feet in a queue eternal
Or stuck in traffic, the clock ticking away to infernal
When kitchen fires work to profusion
And the not-so-neighbourly next-doors sound to intrusion.
When data exceeds the functions of Excel sheets
And our phone makes too much irritating bleats
Say nay, though not necessarily altogether
To the monotonous dictates of moneyed pressure.
And heed to the comforting feeling of being awake
By taking a breathing break, taking a breathing break
And heed to the comforting feeling of being awake
By taking a breathing break, taking a breathing break.
Wake up to breathing, breathe into sleep
Breathe in the aroma of morning readiness deep
The pain of depression and fatigue unfortunate
Breathe with love as a friendly smile or motherly hug affectionate.
Breathe in music, breathe in colours
Breathe in the nothingness that pervades the Universe
The favourable do breathe in as do the adverse
But now take a breather for reading this verse.
www.facebook.com
Heed to the comforting feeling of being awake
To the monotonous dictates of moneyed pressure
Say nay, though not necessarily altogether.
When shuffling your feet in a queue eternal
Or stuck in traffic, the clock ticking away to infernal
When kitchen fires work to profusion
And the not-so-neighbourly next-doors sound to intrusion.
When data exceeds the functions of Excel sheets
And our phone makes too much irritating bleats
Say nay, though not necessarily altogether
To the monotonous dictates of moneyed pressure.
And heed to the comforting feeling of being awake
By taking a breathing break, taking a breathing break
And heed to the comforting feeling of being awake
By taking a breathing break, taking a breathing break.
Wake up to breathing, breathe into sleep
Breathe in the aroma of morning readiness deep
The pain of depression and fatigue unfortunate
Breathe with love as a friendly smile or motherly hug affectionate.
Breathe in music, breathe in colours
Breathe in the nothingness that pervades the Universe
The favourable do breathe in as do the adverse
But now take a breather for reading this verse.
www.facebook.com
April 24, 2020
The Mirror of Erised
There stands innocently the Mirror of Erised
Brought home here from Hogwarts
I wonder what I will see when I stand before it
‘erised stra ehru oy tube cafru oyt on wohsi’
Says the inscription on it
It’s no Greek or Latin
Nor are the words cryptic that requires
A clever head to decode them
No, the words are just a reflection
‘I show not your face but your heart’s desire’
(Omg! What a lot of spelling errors
And an apostrophe is missing!)
Anyway, so here it stands, the Mirror of Erised
(Or Desire, l can it, now that I know
It’s only a backward reading)
And I wonder what I will see in it
Will I, like Harry Potter, see pain from the past?
Or like Ron Weasley, a glorious future moment?
I am sure I would see neither
For, the past pain is passed over
And future is not even a tense in grammar
No regrets, no expectations either
But I do have desires for today
A craving for chocolate, you see
And times are tough and chocolate a luxury
But enough of this soliloquy, let me just go
Stand before it and witness the truth
So moved I did before the silverness
When, just then the doorbell chimed
Who could it be in these lockdown times
I wondered, and opened the door
Standing there was my next door neighbour
‘Some chocolates for you,’ said she giving me
A smile and a saucer of rich brown squares
‘I made them at home.’
There I was standing before the Mirror of Desire
On my left hand was a saucer of chocolate
The fingers of my right hand and my lips
Streaked with delightful brown
Who said there was no magic in the world?
Footnotes
Mirror of Erised is a magical mirror that features in Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone. Harry sees himself with his dead parents, while Ron sees himself as school prefect.www.facebook.com
Brought home here from Hogwarts
I wonder what I will see when I stand before it
‘erised stra ehru oy tube cafru oyt on wohsi’
Says the inscription on it
It’s no Greek or Latin
Nor are the words cryptic that requires
A clever head to decode them
No, the words are just a reflection
‘I show not your face but your heart’s desire’
(Omg! What a lot of spelling errors
And an apostrophe is missing!)
Anyway, so here it stands, the Mirror of Erised
(Or Desire, l can it, now that I know
It’s only a backward reading)
And I wonder what I will see in it
Will I, like Harry Potter, see pain from the past?
Or like Ron Weasley, a glorious future moment?
I am sure I would see neither
For, the past pain is passed over
And future is not even a tense in grammar
No regrets, no expectations either
But I do have desires for today
A craving for chocolate, you see
And times are tough and chocolate a luxury
But enough of this soliloquy, let me just go
Stand before it and witness the truth
So moved I did before the silverness
When, just then the doorbell chimed
Who could it be in these lockdown times
I wondered, and opened the door
Standing there was my next door neighbour
‘Some chocolates for you,’ said she giving me
A smile and a saucer of rich brown squares
‘I made them at home.’
There I was standing before the Mirror of Desire
On my left hand was a saucer of chocolate
The fingers of my right hand and my lips
Streaked with delightful brown
Who said there was no magic in the world?
Footnotes
Mirror of Erised is a magical mirror that features in Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone. Harry sees himself with his dead parents, while Ron sees himself as school prefect.www.facebook.com
April 20, 2020
An Ode to my Admirer Beau
Hang on, wait a bit, be patient will you?
I know you love reading my poetry, old or new
But before I reach it to you through
I need to read it to my admirer beau
You see, when I am done with a verse a-new
I hesitate to show it to the world without a preview
So I call out to him, my immediate guru
To come sit beside me, conduct a critical review
He does too, often dragging his feet overdrew
Sits where I can see him, signals me to continue
For he knows there’s no other way through
I am, after all, his dearmost sweetheart true
I then read my verse, without further ado
Dipping into it as I would into chocolate fondue
Savouring every syllable like a sweet cashew
Emoting its sensuousness without any subdue
Through this reading my love he sits through
And though with poetry he has little imbue
It is never with a feeling bored and untrue
But intoxicated as if by coffee home brew
And when I finish reading my versified view
He smiles with adoration as if he’s had tiramisu
Says it's too good, (do I also hear him say ‘phew’?)
And gives me a kiss for the rendezvous
Thus it is that all my poetry a-new
This delightfully verbal process it goes through
For, though he offers no contemplative point of view
Sharing it with him is as sweet as honeydew.
www.facebook.com
I know you love reading my poetry, old or new
But before I reach it to you through
I need to read it to my admirer beau
You see, when I am done with a verse a-new
I hesitate to show it to the world without a preview
So I call out to him, my immediate guru
To come sit beside me, conduct a critical review
He does too, often dragging his feet overdrew
Sits where I can see him, signals me to continue
For he knows there’s no other way through
I am, after all, his dearmost sweetheart true
I then read my verse, without further ado
Dipping into it as I would into chocolate fondue
Savouring every syllable like a sweet cashew
Emoting its sensuousness without any subdue
Through this reading my love he sits through
And though with poetry he has little imbue
It is never with a feeling bored and untrue
But intoxicated as if by coffee home brew
And when I finish reading my versified view
He smiles with adoration as if he’s had tiramisu
Says it's too good, (do I also hear him say ‘phew’?)
And gives me a kiss for the rendezvous
Thus it is that all my poetry a-new
This delightfully verbal process it goes through
For, though he offers no contemplative point of view
Sharing it with him is as sweet as honeydew.
www.facebook.com
April 18, 2020
A Tribute to our Healthcare workers... the blue butterflies of today
#TSLprompt #Day17#Robertfrostbluebutterfly#VidyaShankarpoetry
The blue butterfliesMasked and sanitisedMove aboutFlurry on flurryFrom one one ward to anotherFrom one bed to anotherWhere the quarantined lieClosed to the world
An aged shivering handClinging to a gloved comfortAsking will I dieWithout seeingMy loved one last time
A starOf ineligible fameOnce a master of toastsLies insipidKnowing who the real hero is.
A baby cryingFor a mother’s warmthA mother whose bodyIs on fireAnd may soon end upOn the fire of the pyre
In the mire ofAn invisible warThe blue butterfliesMove aboutWith a spring to their stepFor, unless they hurryEvery bedEvery needMay not be metEvery needExcept theirs
Their need to hugAnd enjoyA quiet family meal
Their need for safetyWhen reused masksAnd overallsOf no unmixed coloursAre the orderOf the day
Their need to cryWhen the wheelsOf deathHas freshly sliced a life
Their need to celebrateAnd all but singWhen a flowerFloats out weak but smilingHaving ridden outThe wrath of the crown
Their need forA breath of fresh airFalling with abandonLike a skyflakeHappy and gay
But the blue butterfliesThey abandonTheir desiresAnd move onUntiringlyThrough a warThat might show
For dayswww.facebook.com
The blue butterfliesMasked and sanitisedMove aboutFlurry on flurryFrom one one ward to anotherFrom one bed to anotherWhere the quarantined lieClosed to the world
An aged shivering handClinging to a gloved comfortAsking will I dieWithout seeingMy loved one last time
A starOf ineligible fameOnce a master of toastsLies insipidKnowing who the real hero is.
A baby cryingFor a mother’s warmthA mother whose bodyIs on fireAnd may soon end upOn the fire of the pyre
In the mire ofAn invisible warThe blue butterfliesMove aboutWith a spring to their stepFor, unless they hurryEvery bedEvery needMay not be metEvery needExcept theirs
Their need to hugAnd enjoyA quiet family meal
Their need for safetyWhen reused masksAnd overallsOf no unmixed coloursAre the orderOf the day
Their need to cryWhen the wheelsOf deathHas freshly sliced a life
Their need to celebrateAnd all but singWhen a flowerFloats out weak but smilingHaving ridden outThe wrath of the crown
Their need forA breath of fresh airFalling with abandonLike a skyflakeHappy and gay
But the blue butterfliesThey abandonTheir desiresAnd move onUntiringlyThrough a warThat might show
For dayswww.facebook.com
The Grammar of Forgiveness
#TSLprompt #Day17#ForgivenessI sat down this morning
At a half past ten, my laptop
Waking up for the day
All was well since waking up till then
But just as I opened an empty word doc
Looking to write a poem on forgiveness
The day came upon me
Without so much as an apology
Beginning with the ringing
Of my phone.
My friend, to whom I could not plead a 'No, please!'.
It was two hours later, when she finally said
‘Hey sorry dear, I think I took
Your whole morning!’
But I could not go back to my waiting word doc
For, the alarm in my stomach
And my patient husband too
Requested in remorse, and so we had lunch.
Meal done, which thankfully was appeasing
And the washing too
I headed to my desk
Not for a poem or two
But worksheets few
So tensed up I some past and past participle
Continued through the present
To a future perfect
Dealing with the conditionals
And the infectionals
My main clause for all this work being
That I didn’t want to come up
With excuses as my students would.
Maybe I should have come up with an infinitive —
To err is human, to forgive divine
And proceeded to be
Declarative about today’s prompt?
But as that would be a complex state(ment)
For me when regular school would commence
So, I subjected myself into grammatical agreement
With my verbs
And when I was finally done
My active voice had become passive
I needed a shower (for it was a hot day)
A walk on the terrace (a reprieve)
And more food (obviously) and coffee too
But in all this, I had forgotten my husband
So I had to kiss him and make up
For the hours of neglect
Told him to bear no malice
And absolved myself by cooking up
An excellent dinner of upma
My dear husband let the disappointment pass
For he knew I still had not come up
With an apology letter, oops, poem
But the night is upon me now
And my eyes allow for no more writing
So I guess I’ll have to let pass
My forgiveness poem
And with it the certificate
For I wouldn’t be in the league
Of poets with thirty plus one prompted poems.
#VidyaShankarpoetrywww.facebook.com
At a half past ten, my laptop
Waking up for the day
All was well since waking up till then
But just as I opened an empty word doc
Looking to write a poem on forgiveness
The day came upon me
Without so much as an apology
Beginning with the ringing
Of my phone.
My friend, to whom I could not plead a 'No, please!'.
It was two hours later, when she finally said
‘Hey sorry dear, I think I took
Your whole morning!’
But I could not go back to my waiting word doc
For, the alarm in my stomach
And my patient husband too
Requested in remorse, and so we had lunch.
Meal done, which thankfully was appeasing
And the washing too
I headed to my desk
Not for a poem or two
But worksheets few
So tensed up I some past and past participle
Continued through the present
To a future perfect
Dealing with the conditionals
And the infectionals
My main clause for all this work being
That I didn’t want to come up
With excuses as my students would.
Maybe I should have come up with an infinitive —
To err is human, to forgive divine
And proceeded to be
Declarative about today’s prompt?
But as that would be a complex state(ment)
For me when regular school would commence
So, I subjected myself into grammatical agreement
With my verbs
And when I was finally done
My active voice had become passive
I needed a shower (for it was a hot day)
A walk on the terrace (a reprieve)
And more food (obviously) and coffee too
But in all this, I had forgotten my husband
So I had to kiss him and make up
For the hours of neglect
Told him to bear no malice
And absolved myself by cooking up
An excellent dinner of upma
My dear husband let the disappointment pass
For he knew I still had not come up
With an apology letter, oops, poem
But the night is upon me now
And my eyes allow for no more writing
So I guess I’ll have to let pass
My forgiveness poem
And with it the certificate
For I wouldn’t be in the league
Of poets with thirty plus one prompted poems.
#VidyaShankarpoetrywww.facebook.com
April 9, 2020
The Topsy-turvy Tree
#Napowrimo2020 #Prompt9#ConcretePoem
THE TOPSY-TURVY TREE
It seems that you can’t climb this tree
Wearing those constraining intellect-coated
Spectacles of illusion
For this is the imperishable tree
With a paradoxical downward growth
Taking its roots at the top ―
Our thoughts streaming down as its trunk
Emotions its branches
Pleasures and deflections its leaves.
Once sans the rational eye
Ascend it progressively
Breath and awareness your equipment
From leaves and branches through trunk
Till you reach the root ―
The zenith of Ananda
The pure and absolute Bliss
The joy that Life is.
Know this tree to know Truth.
#VidyaShankarpoetry
(Source: Kundalini Tantra by Swami Satyananda Saraswati) www.facebook.com
April 4, 2020
UNCANNY FICTION
4rd April - Day 4#Napowrimo2020 #Prompt4#PoemBasedOnAnImageFromADream
The mystery fiction was un-put-down-able and nothing
Would have induced me to bring my nose out of it
But for the scowl of my husband who had walked in
On my reading to grimly reminding me
Of a working day tomorrow;
And of his hand pointing to two others
That showed time was proceeding towards midnight.
Yes, I had to sleep so I could do justice to the day
That would be breaking soon. Marking the page
I parted with the book, and with wavering hesitance
Got under the blankets.
I was soon fast asleep, and quite deeply too
And in the haze, I was startled all too suddenly
By a heavy repulsiveness creeping over me.
A chill down my spine
A heaviness around my stomach
My thighs locked between another pair
A smothering constriction in my face ―
Was that a pillow I was suffocated with?
Tried I to kick my feet about as much
As the movement would allow
And fiercely flailed my arms
Trying to push away the asphyxiating offence —
A moment of luck probably, and the pillow
Overturned. My face free, I screamed
Ear-splitting intense howls for help.
(Why wasn’t I opening my eyes?)
(Why wasn’t my husband coming to rescue me?)
But the heavy repulsiveness choked my cry
My mouth was gagged with cloth
Smelly and foul
I clawed my way fisting through strong arms
(Why wasn’t I opening my eyes?)
(Why wasn’t my husband coming to rescue me?)
And just as I yanked the obnoxious stuffing out
And threw it away, I jolted to wakefulness
Eyes open, gasping and sweating, I bolted upright
And tried to decipher the darkness and the silence.
All safe.
Gingerly, I got off my bed and tiptoed to peep
Into the adjacent room
My husband, earphones and glasses in place
Sat at his computer, at his work, blissfully unaware
Of the “horrific” episode a few minutes earlier.
Slipping back to the bedroom, I switched on the light.
Too shaken to sleep, I picked up my book
Opened at the bookmark, began to read.
A few passages down, I was hit
By the words in the book ―
‘A chill down her spine
A heaviness around her stomach
Her thighs locked between another pair
A smothering constriction in her face ―
Was that a pillow she was suffocated with?’
The book that I dropped down was a hot brick
I stared at it unbelievingly, breath held tight
Moments passed… moments of sickening suspense
But nothing uncanny happened
Regaining my breath and composure
I picked up the book again so I may read further
With the book came something else
Something soft, and (how did I know it?)
Smelly and foul!
My blood-curdling scream brought my ear plugged husband
Panic running to my side.
#VidyaShankarpoetrywww.facebook.com
The mystery fiction was un-put-down-able and nothing
Would have induced me to bring my nose out of it
But for the scowl of my husband who had walked in
On my reading to grimly reminding me
Of a working day tomorrow;
And of his hand pointing to two others
That showed time was proceeding towards midnight.
Yes, I had to sleep so I could do justice to the day
That would be breaking soon. Marking the page
I parted with the book, and with wavering hesitance
Got under the blankets.
I was soon fast asleep, and quite deeply too
And in the haze, I was startled all too suddenly
By a heavy repulsiveness creeping over me.
A chill down my spine
A heaviness around my stomach
My thighs locked between another pair
A smothering constriction in my face ―
Was that a pillow I was suffocated with?
Tried I to kick my feet about as much
As the movement would allow
And fiercely flailed my arms
Trying to push away the asphyxiating offence —
A moment of luck probably, and the pillow
Overturned. My face free, I screamed
Ear-splitting intense howls for help.
(Why wasn’t I opening my eyes?)
(Why wasn’t my husband coming to rescue me?)
But the heavy repulsiveness choked my cry
My mouth was gagged with cloth
Smelly and foul
I clawed my way fisting through strong arms
(Why wasn’t I opening my eyes?)
(Why wasn’t my husband coming to rescue me?)
And just as I yanked the obnoxious stuffing out
And threw it away, I jolted to wakefulness
Eyes open, gasping and sweating, I bolted upright
And tried to decipher the darkness and the silence.
All safe.
Gingerly, I got off my bed and tiptoed to peep
Into the adjacent room
My husband, earphones and glasses in place
Sat at his computer, at his work, blissfully unaware
Of the “horrific” episode a few minutes earlier.
Slipping back to the bedroom, I switched on the light.
Too shaken to sleep, I picked up my book
Opened at the bookmark, began to read.
A few passages down, I was hit
By the words in the book ―
‘A chill down her spine
A heaviness around her stomach
Her thighs locked between another pair
A smothering constriction in her face ―
Was that a pillow she was suffocated with?’
The book that I dropped down was a hot brick
I stared at it unbelievingly, breath held tight
Moments passed… moments of sickening suspense
But nothing uncanny happened
Regaining my breath and composure
I picked up the book again so I may read further
With the book came something else
Something soft, and (how did I know it?)
Smelly and foul!
My blood-curdling scream brought my ear plugged husband
Panic running to my side.
#VidyaShankarpoetrywww.facebook.com
April 1, 2020
THE PARROT IN MY MANGO TREE
Early bird poem 01/04/2020 #napowrimo2020
Standing in my grilled in balcony
Looking at the beauty of the mango tree beyond
I was distracted by a ruffle in the leaves
It was not the wind, the movement was purposeful
As if made by a hand.
There being no trace of life, my spine shivered
At the ghostly apparition and my breath came
In a quick gasp only to be held in silence
For, there appeared a little hooked coral
A beak plucking at an obstructing mango leaf
Now once, twice and again till it came loose
And fell down. The obstruction now out of the way
The coral set to work.
As it bit, little by little, into the tempting smoothness
Of the large mango, I tried to trace the camouflaged
Body amidst the green foliage.
Waited I patiently for it to reveal itself, my biding
Was not in vain. The parrot, engrossed in its meal
Moved out from its hiding as it pecked
The unexplored parts of the fruit.
I watched with silent amusement the bird
And its undisturbed act. And when satiated
It flew away, a carefree, unworried bird into the skies
Leaving its half-eaten fruit for its meal
The next day.
There was no greed too, its wings opened out
When it flew showed no signs of fruit
Tucked in for its brood.
Was that why it lost not its freedom
While I looked on from a lockdown place?
#VidyaShankarpoetry
#earlybirdnapowrimo2020
www.facebook.com
Standing in my grilled in balcony
Looking at the beauty of the mango tree beyond
I was distracted by a ruffle in the leaves
It was not the wind, the movement was purposeful
As if made by a hand.
There being no trace of life, my spine shivered
At the ghostly apparition and my breath came
In a quick gasp only to be held in silence
For, there appeared a little hooked coral
A beak plucking at an obstructing mango leaf
Now once, twice and again till it came loose
And fell down. The obstruction now out of the way
The coral set to work.
As it bit, little by little, into the tempting smoothness
Of the large mango, I tried to trace the camouflaged
Body amidst the green foliage.
Waited I patiently for it to reveal itself, my biding
Was not in vain. The parrot, engrossed in its meal
Moved out from its hiding as it pecked
The unexplored parts of the fruit.
I watched with silent amusement the bird
And its undisturbed act. And when satiated
It flew away, a carefree, unworried bird into the skies
Leaving its half-eaten fruit for its meal
The next day.
There was no greed too, its wings opened out
When it flew showed no signs of fruit
Tucked in for its brood.
Was that why it lost not its freedom
While I looked on from a lockdown place?
#VidyaShankarpoetry
#earlybirdnapowrimo2020
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I AM A MANDALA
#NaPoWriMo2020
#Prompt1
#ActionMetaphorSelfPortrait
I am a mandala, a Kalachakra, a cosmogram
An esoteric resonance of the micro and macro
A meditative connection of the skin and the subtle
The Mooladhara and the Ajna
The tantric framework of the pranic body
Built with layers of intricate repetitive designs
Of karma and moksha, creation and destruction
The realms of wisdom building at every layer
Choosing to fill the spaces
With the jarring patterns of angst and agony
The mandala to waste away, putrefied and cancerous
Or with the ethereal flow of peace and love
And as the dimensions extend outward
To cause a harmonious balance with the Universe
I am a mandala, a Kalachakra, a cosmogram
Radiating as a mantra my glowing form.
Footnotes:
Kalachakra, cosmogram: other names for a mandala
Mooladhara, Ajna: Chakras or energy points in the subtle body. Mooladhara is the base chakra and Ajna is the third eye or awareness chakra
tantric: related to mantras, meditation, yoga, and ritual
pranic body: subtle body that gives life to our physical body through breath
#VidyaShankarpoetry
www.facebook.com
#Prompt1
#ActionMetaphorSelfPortrait
I am a mandala, a Kalachakra, a cosmogram
An esoteric resonance of the micro and macro
A meditative connection of the skin and the subtle
The Mooladhara and the Ajna
The tantric framework of the pranic body
Built with layers of intricate repetitive designs
Of karma and moksha, creation and destruction
The realms of wisdom building at every layer
Choosing to fill the spaces
With the jarring patterns of angst and agony
The mandala to waste away, putrefied and cancerous
Or with the ethereal flow of peace and love
And as the dimensions extend outward
To cause a harmonious balance with the Universe
I am a mandala, a Kalachakra, a cosmogram
Radiating as a mantra my glowing form.
Footnotes:
Kalachakra, cosmogram: other names for a mandala
Mooladhara, Ajna: Chakras or energy points in the subtle body. Mooladhara is the base chakra and Ajna is the third eye or awareness chakra
tantric: related to mantras, meditation, yoga, and ritual
pranic body: subtle body that gives life to our physical body through breath
#VidyaShankarpoetry
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