Inspired!

Life of the party

That lady in red

Ruffles of scarlet encasing her grace

She treads in measured steps

Making the bystanders envy her stilettos 

For kissing and casing her feet!

She tips her green gloved hands

Offering the greeter a chance

To peck on her fingers 

As her sweet fragrance lingers

Captured in their breath!

And she dips her head bidding a bye!

“Camellia, come hither”

Her beau the butterfly signals

She turns around and pouts..

Spreading her palm before her face

And pulling the lover towards her 

As she pulls her finger back and forth!

Does she have strings wrapped around her tips

Maneuvering lovers like puppets?

I know not!

All I know is that she swirls around in that red  ruffles  

Making me twirl a ribbon of words

Watching her in awe, as she treads the garden party

In rockstar aplomb!

“Camellia, stay where you are, how you are”

I’ll come thither

And capture you on my lens and sense

Letting out a sigh and letting in your sighting!

A love not(e)

As you tread on the vagaries 

Of these heart lanes

And stop to stare

At the juxtapose

Of the fallen and the rising

Freeze not, and freeze my senses!

Under you feet, the margin of that path

Aligning the ever evolving

Textures of these soul planes

Lie the pavers to my perception.

Beneath your glide, gleams my muse

Unearthing the inspirations, imaginations.

As you take the road, cruising through the unknown

Greeted by the imagined

Daunted by the unexpected

Walk assured

Of my ever abiding presence

Tucked away in the unconscious insides

Of your psyche!

Pause if you must, well up if you should

But keep going

Aided by the crutches of my invisible support.

Let me revel in that perseverance

And knit cozy poems

Proclaiming my enamor.

As it is abstract, this attendance, so it is absolute!

Verse

As she looks out of the window

Through the things of this inside 

She spots not one

Not two

But many!

She smiles like she found out a secret

To eternal joy.

A smug security settles on her content being

She tries to count those many

Those many that color her life

Breath a new meaning, fulfillment

Even peace 

Upon her blessed existence 

She tries to count them

Those perspectives 

That broaden her world view

That widen her prospects

To find happiness 

Everywhere she treads.

This, That and Whatnot

As I sit here in my living room couch and feel this strange sense of leisure, I think of all the people around me that are such go-getters. The spouse for instance - this man wastes no time in thought to execution to a point where his spontaneity and urge to extract every intention into action puts the 'let's take life easy' other half through mild anxiety. While hydrating myself in this weird spring weather that is kind of putting up a competition with the weirdness this specimen that is typing out this baloney has, I sit and wonder where my 'take it easy' attitude has emerged out of. Is it an innate factory defect or is it something that I had acquired over the past few years? 

There were times, as hard as it is for me to believe at the juncture I am at right now, where yours truly was the poster child of 'do it and now' but somehow down the line of growing up and growing old and raising rugrats and playing Martha Stewart, the spontaneous 'little miss do it and now' became the boring big missus 'ah, we'll do it tomorrow' :-D and The boring big missus wants to do something about it and do in all earnestness.

The other day, while I was killing time on my one and only social media presence, in my  feed popped up the screenshot I shared above. Now Shri Amitabh Bachchan needs no introduction in the subcontinent - He is the superstar that had stayed relevant from his prime somewhere in the seventies through 2020. Bravo Mr.Timeless, take a bow! With the attention span the current world has, it is indeed a feat that you stay glued and put in the hearts and minds of the ever evolving and distracted Indian junta. The current generation might not know about the pedigree of Big B - His dad Shri Harivanshrai Bachchan was a prolific poet of his times. I started noticing Amitji after I read some of his father's works and a decade ago, I chanced upon Big B's blog - there were a few times he responded to my comments directly. On one instance, I asked him if he writes the blogs himself or has them ghost written!  - (Pat came the reply "I write them myself Laxmi, and it is such a pleasure.") So I'll put my trust issues aside for argument's sake and get to the point and believe my fatherly figure and his commitment to blog by himself without delegating it to a staff member . 

So this superstar of India had been blogging for fourteen years now! That's not the wow for me. The 'wow' is the over 4000 posts he had written to date. Apparently 'Mr.Indian Demi God of the Indian silver screen' never, ever took a break from his blog. Nope - not even a single day went without him writing! 

Now what's a humble homemaker with < 1% of the business of Amitji to do now, with this tidbit of information? Feel small? Feel stupid? Feel like an utter waste of oxygen? Feel inspired? Feel the pinch of taking things too easy? Feel all of the above and a truck load more?

Yes on all counts. Actually, a resonating, confident yes on all counts! So, the virtual cosmos whipped my lazy backside into check (for how long, I know not) and here I am, forcing myself to write and not give the pretext of a dinner prep or a full kitchen sink to skip doing what I should be doing. 

In the other news, I read that Irfan Khan, one of India's finest actors who passed recently and too soon said something on the lines of God patting you on the back and asking you to get down at the next stop while you are busy having a jolly good time on this ride called life! That's probably a supplementary inspiration to the Grand and wise senior Mr.Bachchan. And the universe, the sweet, felicitating force that it is, shall always give us cues to take ourselves a step ahead. Only when we keep our senses open and receptive. I am sure there isn't any dysfunction in that department.  And wherever else the repair work is to be done, I'll get to it in my overalls and the tool kit, tinkering away and looking for that reprimanding hint wherever the need pops up.

For now, It's a post alright! I better take a print out of the screen shot and stick it on my fridge door, cause that's the only spot I am not really doing my social distancing with, and it might come handy to deliver the relearning whenever the mojo derails.

:)

Ponder

May rolls in, so does another month of sheltering in place and so do the allergies in the air though moi is confined to the safe spaces inside the home. Lack of routine is a daunting pleasure. As I work from home, adjust to a 'pretend' routine and act as 'in routine' as I can, I also find it harder than ever to keep up my deadlines.  "I can do it tomorrow"a little reassuring, procrastinating, 'you are here to stay and your time is unlimited' delusional voice coaxes me to take it easy. And, every now and then, I end up taking it easy.

But sometimes I get the memo. 'I am not here to stay' the arch nemesis to the duality speaks up and I do. like really, get the memo. Over half a decade ago, when Marie Kondo wasn't as main stream as she is today, thanks to her Netflix gig, I made her one of my spiritual masters upon chancing on her book 'The life changing magic of tidying up. Nothing spoke to me like she did during my gestation stage, with that intense nesting phase I went through while I carried my second born. I always keep saying this in my head but anything that speaks to me, invariably ends up having a spiritual after taste to it and Konmari as she calls herself, isn't any different. Though I had been a non hoarder all my life, Kondo's advice about tidying up read like a spiritual scripture and I for once was so excited with the allegory of actual tiding up of my space. So during this time of unrest and leisure, I once again decided to look through each nook and cranny of my home *and my heart* wondering what there is that I want to keep and what there is that I want to let go.

I am glad to admit, that I didn't find much of a baggage at least without (now, the within is falling into place as well, and it better do that!) So here I am, rearranging my pantry, cleaning all my condiment and spice jars and re labeling them and going through all my clothes, holding them close and asking the universe "Does this spark joy?"  - Konmari says 'Pay attention to the tremor in your heart - you'll know when u love something and don't focus on what you want to discard, instead focus on what you want to keep!' So "Do I want to keep this?" is a more powerful and meaningful question to ask ourselves if we are confronted with the ever confusing task of 'let go'

And like every ponder, this has to lead to the culmination too. Cleaning is like meditation. It is like choosing what to keep in that heap of thoughts that cross our minds. Which one to give traction to? Which one to hang on to? Which one to fuel and which one to let fizz out? And in the end, the Zen of what stays, what matters and what counts is where the beauty lies. It all boils down to the simple act of choosing what to keep! :)
So giddy up, tidy up and live it up!

Reverse

Through the sheet of glass

Through the stack of blinds 

Through the invisible air

And visible greens

The sight travels

The heart follows

Resting now, on sprouting life

Newness peeking through the stagnation 

Bringing in prospect 

And like magic, out of nowhere 

Materializes the miracle of creation 

The same omniscience that settles inside 

Below the rubble of intellect

The bubble of ego.

Reassures the restless thought

To snooze a bit

And let in the glow!

For what can the eyes behold 

In the absence of light

And what can the being perceive 

In the presence of the identity

With this vessel.

Let go the sticking 

Let in the  bliss!

A-Z April - Day 26 - Z for Ze Obvious :)

Hey Stripey, stupendous little feller

Do you ever marvel at your garb

Like Moi does?

Tracing every black stripe

Tickled silly in awe

At the symmetry

Geometry

Stark complementary coloring

That inspires fashion ramp walks

Crazy clickers

Pseudo Poets

Stung on life nature lovers

Looking to capture your perfection

To be displayed under the title

"Inspiration."

Hey magnificent beast

What takes to make you?

What strokes, what skill, what palette it takes

 To bake you

In that mixed media

Releasing the prototype of nature's magnum opus

Into the wheat fields of wonder!

Hey Missus, Or Mister!

That is a pretty benevolent look you cast

In my direction.

The visual froze the senses, charmed the consciousness

Knitting wordage in homage!

Hey you Art, posing as an animal

I wish you could see you

Like I do!

Photo by Jeff Griffith on Unsplash

Mara Triangle - Maasai Mara National Reserve - Kenya.

A-Z April - Day 25 - Y for You

That face

That stares back at you -

Look through that reflection

Reflecting upon the irises of your eye

Right into hers.

She might look forlorn

Waiting for a miraculous moment

For someone to reach through

And pull her close

To ruffle her hair

And hold her to heart!

She might look lost

With those puppy eyes

Pleading for some love

A little smile, empathy perhaps.

She probably is as lost as you are

Perhaps searching for that belonging

Just like you.

Don't sponsor her drama

And cry out loud in chorus.

She is a little strayed

But you don't need to be.

That face that looks at you

Through the looking glass.

Love her before you look elsewhere

Hold her close before you join her in a quest to be held

Somewhere else, in some reluctant arms.

Better yet, Just don't look somewhere else.

Your home is within

So is your power

And your source of endless love

On the other side of the mirror

Awaits your power, your prowess!

She'll lead you to loving the world

Only if you lead yourself to love her.

A-Z April - Day 24 - X for Xystus

                                                    

Under the arbor

The embrace of the lush green branches

I settle snug

Wrapped in a cocoon of comfort

Cool breeze grazes my skin

Seeping into the insides, inspiring a smile.

Words flow like water towards gravity

Wanting to soothe the parched surfaces of the soul.

Under the umbrella of Verde

Verses dance like little kids in mud puddles

Splashing dirt over their dresses

Oblivious to stresses

The grown up world so carefully curates.

Under the shade of the trees

Numerous wishes sprout like saplings

Spread like ground covers

The senses dig into the muddy earth

Trapping soil in the fingernails

Those trapped scraps of the sphere

Put a twist to the obvious

Bringing into focus

The negative spaces in the painting.

Under the shade of creation

I settle with my intent

To learn, to have fun

To flow with the energy and to see the unshown

Hear the unsaid

Treading on the trails of this magic

Feeding on the buffet of the sensory feast

Existing, in the truest sense.

A-Z April - Day 23 Q for Queue got jumped!

As I count and tally 

On day 22

I let out a gasp

As there's something amiss!

Now what's a math atheist to do?

The one that doesn't look numbers in the eye.

Any count seems obsolete - dates, dollars or even birthdays.

But a challenge is a challenge is a challenge

Once you take the plunge, you settle the score!

So Calvin's bestie does the crunching of digits

"What you avoid, only confronts you

So don't run! Face it"

Random advice for the significant other

Rings in the ear

And one two three

A B C

The census begins and stops at Q

Oh wait a minute - someone jumped the line

In the mumbo jumbo of their busy brain!

So it's reconcile time

Letting things in the queue

Though the abruptness be forgiven

What's a pseudo poet to do

Without poetic liberty

And Justice.

Quiet late in the order

But quiet inside the border

Here's the entry, with a supplementary

The ceiling fan's floor perspective

Rendering the meaninglessness

To the verselessness.

A-Z April - Day 22 - What's with Windows?

I wish

I figured

What's with the windows

Using these windows -

The endowments of anatomy

Built in the visage.

I wish I carved them

On every surface that's worth a delve

On hearts, on thoughts, on fears and hopes!

What if windows substituted words?

If they raised curtains on visuals

The guarded, masquerading ones

That carry the magic in them

The talismans of life.

What if they were the only sources of wisdom

The subtle road maps to tremendous treasures?

What if they were the telescopes offering dekkos of outer space

What if they were formulas of success!

If they were user manuals

Speaking fluent showings

Unraveling the unsaid

That needs to be noticed!

I wish these windows never close on me.

On Retrospect

It's naive that I wish so 

As the wise and the learned say

Widows open when doors close.

Except we keep looking at the doors a tad too long!

What if they connected us like networks

In the transparency of their shining surfaces

What if we clean them with soap suds, ever so often

So the view on the other side is never distorted.

Do we even need wishing wells and magic wands to unravel the myths

Aren't windows enough??