অনুরণন

We lived together for many a year. The growing up days were not easy at all. Hand in hand we braced it all. You watched on me as I tried to steer a paper boat on a stream that sprung up from rain o dear! You were the only one to witness my dance uninhibited. You were the audience before the show. You have been my student as I loved to teach. Ah! the blackboard, me and you together it taught me to learn. You stood by me and gave me rest. As i faced test by test. I have cried in your arms and laughed in your chest. My little corner, my own space I came to you, when I lost pace. I hugged you tight and let it pass while you kissed me good night. I have dreamed many a dream and sung many a song in your garden of grace. You gave me friends, you saw me win you saw me lose you saw me grow up within. I owe to you We owe to you, a better life. but tell me, what can we do? You let us go and I'll let you know For the last time, I'll sleep with you and let you know. I have memories of you t...

There is nothing here, No Time. No Tear. Smiles happen, By Practice I fear. Often from home Stories I hear.. Of festive joys & deaths O'dear! I know of two worlds. A day there, is an endless night here. I dream in both, asleep in neither. Sometimes in thrill, I measure the distance, in miles and metres. Either way, From Home I stay Afar. Away.

As i scrolled through the pictures dad sent in a web album faithfully titled "Mummy's Garden" , my eyes glistened up. Each picture meant more than what it intended to. It unearthed emotions which were buried about 8 months ago and made unreachable, to avoid those very tears. Moms. Why are they naturally inclined to taking care of something, all the time? Weird they are. Not that earlier the garden at home wasn't taken care of. But I could see a refreshed interest being taken by mom in these green beings now. I am sure the flowers never looked so good earlier, I know there weren't even so many plants earlier either. I know dad never took photos of these and sent it to anyone earlier. He was never so proud of "mummy's garden" earlier. It seemed like their own little world had taken shape anew. I'm sure mom spends a good amount of time watering the plants, tending to them, adding new ones, weeding out the old ones, re potting , cleaning etc. Just l...

indeed india, i miss you. well, to start with, i miss your typically morning noises.. the bustle of households, the chatter of housewives, the business of house maids, 'back-up' music of neighbourhood cars, pitched calls of street hawkers, kick starts of 2-wheelers, school buses making their way through.. and repititively, the melody of MS's suprabhatam. i miss a day's omnipresent-naturally occuring blunders.. the overflow of garbage bins, tar roads punctuated by lawful dig ups, traffic junks, hunk-honks of auto rajas, fights for vacancies at bus foot boards, warning less electricity breaks, saying no to beggars, a single rain's flood warning .. and all the associated uncertainties.. i miss the stimuli to my senses... the vividity of feminine drapery .. colorfully spun sarees and flirtily favorable dupattas, aromas of samosa and chai, nostalgia of ameen sayani on AIR FM RAINBOW, taste of the temple's sacred water, sourness of roadside pani puri, freshness of ...