Wish I Was A God No More

Yet another year
I am decorated
and celebrated

They make
more of me
and bigger too
more money, I guess
to show their faith

They don't like me
anymore
for who I am

They make me
more human-like now
a Army man,
a policeman
a politician
a cricketer
a movie star
a cartoon character too

Adding more colours
and more grandeur
It resembles me
yet it does not

Have they lost the plot
or am I too old
to understand
I know not

Everyday
flowers
crackers
loud music
and dancing
leaving
a decaying
destruction
in its fray
to be cleaned
by the untouchables

And in time,
its time to say goodbye
with much fanfare and noise
they see me off
Visarjan they call it
dumping me
in the big wide ocean

There are thousands more
every year
me and me and me
choking the waters
and its peaceful inhabitants

When all is done
and dusted
left alone
and abandoned

Awaiting as I dissolve
in ever delaying plaster
a million fish and more
die a silent death
in service of humankind
whose all but abandoned them

What use am I
a god for none
there to feed
an ever rising ego
and kill
those silent beings
that I lovingly
brought into a
nurturing world
long lost its way
to greed and pomp

Wish I wasn't
a god no more
wiped from memory
of a humankind
so blinded with me
that they fail to see
the destruction they bring
to my most beautiful creation

I sigh
and wait
yet another occasion!

Prompted to write when I saw this terrifying video - https://www.facebook.com/indiatimes/videos/2222166398014603/

I Am My Relations

I am my relations

I come from
My burdens
My obligations
My responsibilities
And identities
That cage me

I come from
My desires
My needs
My aspirations
And incompletions
That fail me

I come from
My connections
And disconnections too

I come from
In me
Within me
Out me
And Other me

I come
From
The womb
The blood
And the soul
That embody me

I come from
The name
Of the family
And the caste
That birthed me

I come from
My neighbourhood
The smells and sights
The senses and noises
That shaped me

I come from
My work
My titles
My power
And the seats
That feed my ego

I come from
The streets of my childhood
The memories of my past
The food that I feed
And the body that I call mine

I come from
The grass
The flowers
And thorns
That nurture me

I, we, us
Aren't we one
Us, we, I
We are one

In oneness,
I am enough

Dilip The King

Quiet were his steps
Invisible almost

Colour to paper
is all he desired

Gasped with joy
when he found
sketches, crayons, paints
laid out in invitation
beckoning him
to flare his imagination

Silently he began
every waking hour
A palace he imagined
Bringing it alive
hue by hue

Not a word he spoke
all of day one
disappearing
in breaks
to his still world
filled with colour

Day two we noticed
when meals he missed
consumed as he was
by his art

Feverish in his endeavour
adding layers of depth
to his thriving imagination

He brought it to life
colour by colour
blacks, reds and blues
in stressed richness
adding dimensions
in mysterious ways

Not a word he spoke
amongst forty others
A craftsman he was
still in his art

As colours emerged
so did he

We saw the shift
certain and real

from flirtive eyes
to steadfast gaze

from fidgety hands
to firm strokes

from drooped shoulders
to arched back

from established frowns
to almost smiles

As his art came alive
He came alive

Feverish in his pace
He slept little
as day three dawned

He knew
his time had come

Quietly he walked
Still, he gazed
as forty pairs
watched
with bated breath

'Art I love
day and night
yet, colours
not have I
at home or school

Colours I see
colours I seek
all around me
even in the drab
of my spaces

To heaven
you brought me
and let me be

You saw me
even as I am
hidden from me

Accept my frailties
with grace you did
and here I am
with grace
I say
Thank You'

and with that
he unfurled
a fantasy palace
brought alive
from deep
in his being
befriended with colours
that danced on paper
under his able command

In that moment,
his eyes shone bright
having found their light
from within his heart
steadfast and sure
they made home
to shine bright
for ever more
Never ever
to be shut again

A journey
just begun
for in art
Dilip (the king)
had found
himself
only himself
truly himself

Note: This is the story of 14-year old Dilip who attended a 4-day outdoor experiential camp by Dream a Dream and where he discovered his inner strength through art

Raped

Tata (grandpa)
I fondly called him

Then the Rapists
one after the other
all
known to me

Kind eyes
turned lusty
heavy bodies
smelly orifices
Were they 17?

The beatings
Threats
Sneers
Cold laughter
Sent a chill
Until a log was I
Dead, yet alive

The laughter still rings
jarring my being
drowning my screams

Pleadings
Just 12, I am
falling to deaf ears

Would it be over soon
Wished I of death
Willed I of death

Time became a whisper
Dark I befriended
For light
an unfortunate reminder
Still alive am I?

12, I said?
Just right
They cheered
Hunger in their eyes
Meat I be

Let me go
Not to my birther
For I don't wish her
To see me
butchered

Let me go
To my creator
So he can face me
For it must be a He

7 months?
I know not
Time stood still
The day it began

My body
My being
My soul

RAPED

Doll (Guddi)

Circumstances
Brought them together
Made them neighbours

Both lost their partners
In the autumn of their lives

One didn't want children
Children didn't want the other

An unlikely pair indeed
One threw tantrums
Demanded attention
The other sought
Freedom
And just a little love

One thing stood true
Both loved life
In their everyday
Ordinariness

Years together
They found a rhythm
That spouses struggle to find

An unlikely pair
They indeed were

Her children took her away
One dark day
Life was never the same
For either hence

One lost her freedom
The other her crutch
Both lost their friendship

Age was not on their side
Days went to nights
Nights to weeks
Weeks to months
Months to years

Her loneliness gnawed at her
Without her friend
She felt distraught

The decline was quick
Death came soon after
Nothing either could do
To rekindle their unlikely friendship

She watched her friend go
Too soon she thought
A few more years
Together?
Maybe?

Soon her children
Didn't want her again
Back she was
In the same neighbourhood

Nothing was the same
Without her friend
Strange was the lane 
Unfamiliar were her days

A silent tear
A prayer
Now and then

Off she went
Living on
A doll (Guddi)
For that was her name
In her tongue

That Knowing Frown

Some go quietly
Having lived

Some kick and turn
Wishing more of
every tiny breath

Yet others suffer
Unwilling to let go
Something! something
Holding them back.

She was one of those
Fierce ones
Holding onto life
Like a child
To its favourite toy

Kicking and turning
Fighting with a frown
Battle scars and all
Holding onto life
With all its betrayals

The frown
Is all I remember
Fierce,
Unforgiving
Ungiving

She clenched her fists
Bring it on
In her demeanour

Through
Loss,
Pain,
Suffering,
Loneliness,
Betrayals
She lived on

A few weeks back
A flicker I caught
A tiny one
Letting go

The battle
We well know
We all will lose

She did too
Last night

In her final moments
Like in life
She needed none
She had none

Death took her
Where it awaited her

And just like that
Today, she was
Just bone and flesh

And all that stayed
That knowing
Frown!

Impulse

He saw an approaching train
An impulse
What if...

He took a tiny step forward
An impulse
What if...

His imagination
Having taken the step
Felt the thud
Deep in the bones
The crack of the skull
The mangled remains

All too quick
He watched his body
Disappear beneath

In a moment too soon
Life was sucked
disappearing soul

In a jolt
Back he was
The train
Sped past him
Leaving him sweaty
And shaken
Just a step behind

An impulse
Gone too soon...

Darkness Within

It creeps up slowly
When you least expect it
Where you least expect it

You feel the shift
Deep in your bones
In a moment of pause
Before the floodgates open

You wish it to go away
You will it go away
It takes over

A moment
Of vulnerability
Is all it needs
A thought
A feeling
A question
To own you again

In a perfectly sane day
It creeps in from within
Grabs you hard
And takes you down

Paralysed I was
In dissonance
Bright sunshine
Happy people around
And the enveloping darkness
Within

It gnaws at me
For hours on end
An epic battle
I know I will lose

I slump down
My body gives way
Succumbing
To the enveloping darkness

Frantically,
I seek
Threads to grab onto
Bits of happiness
Joy and laughter too
Memories of happier times
Love and friendships

The more I seek
The more futile
It seems
For those very thoughts
Feed this frenzy

Taking me down
To darkness within
That seems
Impossible
To rise out from

I give in!

Belief?

A young boy of 10

unshackled yet

full of life and desire

happy and carefree.

Yes! he said to life

camps, sports or Arts

everything he wanted to try

one life after all.

I saw him grow

creativity was his potential

engagement was his approach

and grit was his friend.

He fell a few times

learnt to rise every time

with the same charming smile

happy and carefree.

Pride I felt

as I saw him

become a man

my work done.

He went his way

into an exciting world

to seek more of life

to create some of his own.

years later,

met him as a man

full of purpose, determination

and the same toothed smile.

Pride I felt

as I saw him

be the man.

my work done.

Yet, something

didn't sit right

the choices

he chose to make.

Abandoned his brother

with decisive finality

who chose to marry

outside his religion.

'We don't have anything to do with him!

he didn't care for us

our religion,

our reputation.'

Shattered,

I sought a chair

a moment longer

let it sink in.

Opportunities

Safe environments

role-modeling adults too

Everything and more...

...That one day

he would be a better man

creating

a better world.

Yet,

Here he was

choosing hatred

over love

choosing divisions

over humanity

choosing religion

over family

choosing...

The same toothed smile

but a different man

It didn't make sense.

have I failed?

Did something go missing

in my commitment

in my role modeling?

How could it happen?

A young boy of 10

Had become a man

that worried me

scared me

overwhelmed me.

What world did he enter?

Who did he meet?

Experiences he had?

That he became a man

unknown to me.

Is it Belief?

that shapes a man

beyond his childhood

in the dark chambers

of his being.

Belief,

where does it come from

I know not anymore. 

Nostalgia

In a disturbed early morning slumber

a brewing desire 

and then it came

Nostalgia.

It's sweet fragrance

wafting into my senses

the pleasure of pain

from a time in childhood.

My senses beckoned me

I sought it out today

the familiar taste

Yum. Lemon rice it was.

The just crisped onions

the almost friend peanuts

the sweet tingling lime

simmered in a yellowed rice

ah! The lemon rice from my childhood.

It was a Sunday ritual

from our favourite joint

It had no name

like most good places.

Just known by its owner

Ranganna, he was

A balding, paunchy man

with a busy smile.

A packet of the glorious yellow

with a stingy sprinkling 

of spicy chutney

perfect for a Sunday morning.

Most times it was dad

who made the trip,

on his rickety Bajaj

sometimes, inviting me to join him.

We could never have a full packet

for we had to share, 

learnt to share

knowing to stay within our means.

Sometimes mom sneaking her share

onto a our emptying plate. 

while we savoured every bite

of the delicious Lemon Rice.

It was that kind of memory today.

While I got the lemon rice

the experience of family

on a Sunday morning

sharing the ritual

was sorely missing.

Each could have a packet-ful

and more

and yet, I sat there alone

eating my fill, amongst strangers. 

Wishing, pleading, seeking

my childhood to come back 

just for a moment

just for a moment.

so I could fret and fume

that I had to share 

and yet find joy 

in the sharing.

A silent prayer 

gratitude

to my father

for this childhood memory.

A memory

that rekindles Nostalgia

known only to someone

that still seeks.