My growth as a Writer and as a Person

I'm growing, Slowly, gradually,
Word by word and poem by poem.
I am discovering who I am,
Thought by thought and muse by muse.

I'm groping into the depths of my psyche,
For those golden words of inspiration;
Great ideas are turning up like unexpected treasures;
The deeper I go more gems I see,
But the depth of my psyche I can't measure,

It'll be an interesting journey,
I assured myself when I started.
The mine is very deep and unpredictable;
I have got so much more than what I wanted.

I find a burrow.
Sometimes a burrow diverges into two;
Which one should I go into?
I'll choose the one that poses a greater risk.
Occasionally, I may choose the other.

What lies at the bottom,
At the bottom of this bottomless mine?
This I cannot fathom.
But all burrows will eventually lead me to the bottom.

I may also encounter the remains a skeleton,
Pressed under a heavy rock.
I want to remove it- it symbolises my darker nature,
The path of my journey does it block.

I'll keep collecting all the gems I've found,
With the beauty of my nature, by them am I bound,
As I go along, these gems will be converted to jewels
I'll give them away to humanity. 'It's a gift', I'll tell.

I'm still wandering,
These networks of burrows are never-ending,
Maybe I'll hit rock bottom some day.
But that day is far away.

I was a young girl, safe and sound.
Within the confines of values, I was bound.
I was an obedient child, who listened to her mother.
To explore my deeper thoughts, I didn't bother.

I am an adolescent now, and a fire inside me seems to rage.
Those values of safety are like the bars of a strong iron cage.
Hows and whys constantly baffle me.
In my mother's words no reason I see.

Why do I have to be kind and good?
Why am I not free to 'wear' my mood?
Why do have to follow each and every dictum of society?
Aren't these norms a curse to the creativity of humanity?

Why can't I explore my colourful personality?
Of unexplored things there is an infinity.
Why is the world confined in little trvialities,
How you present yourself and those so called aids of personality.

Isn't there suffering in the world everyday?
Why don't we concentrate on taking it away.
It's better than 'being' good I say.
A noble deed would make my day.

A million rebellious thoughts cut across my head like a knife.
These thoughts bring great strife.
Maybe time will settle my inner turmoil.
But inside my soul does restlessness still boil.

These iron bars are being broken.
Maybe they'll become something else.
They'll not confine me.
They'll make me free.
They'll make me calm and happy.
But what they'll become I can't see.

My Sister , the Sleeping Beauty

My sister , I say is a sleeping beauty .
To torment me into wakefulness she feels it's her duty .

Every day during the twenty second hour .
All of us squeeze into this small bed of ours .

During the twenty third hour , we know she has slept ,
Because her heavy leg over my torso she has kept .

After some time , she has twisted herself into a coil .
I think ," Of moving so much why does she toil ? "

Then after some time I feel a kick .
At an odd angle her legs does she stick .

Like an ace footballer does she kick away .
These kicks are intentional I must say .
She infuriates me with her antics even during the day .
To infuriate me further into the night she has found a way .

She dances like a bharatnatyam dancer - ta taka thai , taka thai , taka thai ,
Her foot repeatedly kicking my sore thigh .
" When will she become stable ? " , I wonder with a sigh .
Time seems to drag , it doesn't fly .

She pushes me .I push father .Father pushes mother .Mother pushes father .Father pushes my sister .She pushes me .
An excellent explanation of Domino Effect this may be .

She crunches up like a frog , buttocks in the air .
To drape a blanket over her tiny body , she doesn't care .
My sympathy for her increases by a manifold .
I gently cover her ,protecting her from the cold .

Ah! Now all is calm .
The cold stillness of the night is like a balm .

I am floating gently , drifting off to sleep .
My breathing is slow,rhythmic and deep.

The next morning makes itself known .
I feel soreness in about every cell I own .

I look up . The little devil doesn't look like she has been dancing all night .
In fact her face is a jolly sight .

Today I'll set this little devil right .
But sadly , I suffer every night .

Parting

It's like the quiet before a storm
Tense and apparent .
Both of you can forsee ,
The winds , the thunder and the rain
And you know that there will be pain.
You just know the inevitable ,
That you have to part .
The silence is wrenching your heart .

All what's unsaid ,
Is somehow articulated in the heavy silence .
The flaws in each become glaring .
But the restraint is more painful than the forseen arguing .
One thought is mutual though ,
Why have the sunny days gone ?
Why have the clouds suddenly shown ?

Suddenly , the first breeze of parting blows .
It is small and insignificant .
But before it's forgotten , the winds start swirling .
On the skies can be seen , a long bolt of lightning ,
Followed by a clap of thunder , loud and booming .
Now the inevitability of parting is positively looming .

Both of you shout and scream at each other .
In solitude you cry .
All the unsaid thoughts start raining down ,
With such force that they become hail .
Inflicting deep wounds that will leave scars behind .

The rain ceases but the winds don't .
The clouds are looming over your heads .
The silence descends heavily , like a blanket of mist .
When will the clouds empty themselves again ?

It rains again with lesser intensity .
The words aren't as painful as the stones of hail .
But they manage to bruise your skins .
The clouds are emptying themselves .
But will you be able to wait ?
When will the sun appear meekly behind the clouds ?
You don't know .

Your friend leaves you behind ,
But no longer a friend ,
In search of a sunny spot .

You are left , standing in the rain ,
With tears pouring down your face ,
And pain searing through every part of you .
You come to the realisation that you have to move .
To search for a better place ,
And wade through the muck in search of firm soil .
Which is your only refuge from the rain .
Leaving all those pleasant memories behind ,
Which will continue haunting you .
your heart is heavy ...............

Train Journey

Chugging along with varying velocity ,
It offers a window to India's diversity .
Through the windows is seen .
The India that I heard of , but remained unseen .

An India that consists of villages and lush fields .
And rows of crops with rich yields .
Cows and buffaloes , hens and cocks .
Dense forests , hills and boulders and rocks.

Trees with branches long and snaking .
Many grasses , some green and some yellowing .
Underneath a bridge , flows a wide river .
On the waters , float many a streamer .

There are ghettos and there are slums .
Now the view looks pretty glum .
Poverty is stark all around .
I can see that I've landed on the ground.

There are giagantic factories with heavy machinery
They are the spoilers of the tranquil scenery .
The chimneys belch out so much smoke ,
I'm surprised that life hasn't choked.

The station edges near and near .
The platform becomes more clear .
Signalling an end of a long sojourn .
Bringing a full stop to this train journey .

Death

It somes slowly
Creeping towards you like a lizard on the wall
With soft steps
That become louder as the feet progress .

It's an occurence far away ,
Your near and dear does it steal away .
When they're stolen with might you grieve
Your own demise you can't perceive .

But about that occasion you often ponder .
"What happens then ?",Do you often wonder .
"Where will it lead me to?"
"Is there life after death ?Is it true ?"

The prospect of death scares you too .
When in some form or the other it glares at you .
You know your moments are measured and few .
Neither do you want life snatched away from you .

But sometimes it is an unimaginable blow .
You don't expect it at all .
It doesn't bother to warn .
An accident's disguise does it often don .

Sometimes it just approaches you ,
Taking you in it's dark caress , which becomes a tight grip .
But fortunately it releases it's grip on you
And leaves you free , only to take you again .

Now death is far away .
You don't worry about it night and day .
But it just flits across like a thought
A new zeal to live has it brought .

Is death as frightening as it's made to be ?
Time will tell and we'll see.

Birthdays

Another year has come and gone ,
Another birthday has finally dawned .
Bringing with it a new chapter of life ,

How I wish , a child I should be forever
To be weighed down with responsibilities never .
To be enclosed in safety's bosom ,
In a place where life is a bed of roses and a shower of blossoms .

But a part of me wants to grow
Seeds of opportunities in life's soil , I'm willing to sow .
Even if I have to encounter bugs and pests and rocks and stones .
The difficulties will never never break my spirit , even if they break my bones .

But life is a constant tug of war .
Am I a child or an adult ? I am not so sure .
Sometimes I want to be safe and sound .
But I also want to live a life of responsibility , I have found .

I am going to take everything in my stride .
Sometimes I'll swim along , or I'll direct life's tide .
I'll be cared for and I will care .
I'll absorb all there is and all what I have , I'll share .