Saturday, November 18, 2006

The Fast

Th Fast

Fifth november was my brother's marriage anniversary.
I was more awed by the fact that it was Guy Fawkes day in U.K. About this I reminded my parents to ask my well travelled bro when they rang him up to wish him. On second thoughts the sentimental cancerian in biley, my bro, might consider any parallels between the gunpowder plot and his wedding day insulting.So dear bro, no comparisions intended.

I have been staying with my parents on and off since 30 sep, which was Maha Ashthami,or the eighth day of the 10 day Durga Puja Festivities.

On 30th, enroute to Salt Lake from Fortune City,my parents took me to my cousins, bonnie and bobby. We had samosas, posed for bonnie's camera phone, presented my kid sisters with some of my choicest   dresses. A rather tight  squeeze for me now. Plus these  two sisters of mine were really turning out to be very pretty and very intelligent.
Consider it  my Puja  good deed.

Now on  the 1st of October my parents had an obnoxious visitor to their flat, who while barely 7 years older than me , by virtue of an early marriage to a neighbour, was called "aunty" by me.
I had been introduced to her when I was in college, so I found it mildly  irritating that she attempted to talk to me as if I were 6 yrs old. To add injury to insult this well meaning lady started using a very personal and offensive nickname for me, which only my parents and big bro were ever allowed to use.

Why I blew it I never will know, probably because my dad could jokingly have advised "Aunty" to call me by my formal, and infinitely more pleasant name, or perhaps because she had butted into our small crowded kitchen where baba and I were experimenting with a coconut dresssing for a fish dish and it was not coming out too well.

Excuses,excuses.I was prepared to be conciliatory when "Aunty", advised baba that next time she will call on him and come, and I icily asked her if that was to find out if his daughter was at home or not. since all I had done so far was purse my lips and grumble my discontent in a muted tone to my Baba, I could scarcely see why after offending me, she should choose to take umbrage.
So instead, I did, and I equally obnoxiously  advised her that as Baba and I kept the same company, if she was put off by mine there really was no need for her to take his cell no.

Well, after that "aunty" departed in high dudgeon,advising me that I was mentally "sick." Well vice versa.

Next being an excitable  quarrelsome creature, (really what  was I thinking those days!), I  had this almighty scene with my father, where I asked him if like saturn he had to be the baleful planet that drew such malignant people into the orbit of his family and friends.

My father who is overly relegious took my comment with extreme hurt, as for us Hindus, Saturn, the arbiter of fate,is such a feared deity, that those who do worship him, never do so at home but always in a public temple.

I am a bit of a sceptic, so all I meant was to use the kind of word weapon dad understood, to indicate his daughter was dead serious about how offensive she found some of the company he kept.

Well after this I really did feel mental, so I missed breakfast, lunch tea, et all.
The husband arrived and persuaded us to all sit at the dinner table together for a meal.Lucky for us, as dad and mom too had not been able to take much more than tea,toast and biscuits while their daughter was on a hunger strike to register both her protest and hurt.

The reason for writing this entire sequence of events is to show that while I am not really mental, how close we all come to being that way at times, and how unkindly calling a person "sick" can actually make her react like a sicko...

On fourth november I was calmly sickened by a fact,a fact that this blog will not reveal.
However much I wish to feel relief by blogging it out of my system.

To go back ,to O ct 17th, my birthday...This was not a good year for my birthday to be,and lets leave it at that for now. I have no words for what has been happening since 31st july.Lets see how it all turns out and maybe next year I shall write about this time of my life.
Or maybe a decade later.This is the 2014 me reading my 2006 self.And I am still not  ready.

Suffice it to say on oct 18 I moved to Naiya Patti,which is 15 min from my parents place,and houses my bro's tiny self sufficient flat.Baba wanted me to run it for a few days and give it a semblance of order,as it lies neglected while my bro is elsewhere in the world. Once a month dad opens it up and cleans it,but we felt by staying a weekend we could get more done.

Sure, like a battle or two and a whole lot of thinking and writing and cleaning.
I think the whole fourth november obsession started in Naiya Patti.

hey! I can't write here anymore -not now at least- its 12:12 a.m./ I should wrap up now,do some house work, go to bed.
Hah!2006 self, boy you were lazy  a mental basket case.
Care for meto   complete your incomplete ravings ?
On  second thoughts, I have got housework to do too!

All rights reserved
(c) Amrita Valan 2014

The digital Demon Doll

The digital demon Anto, my husband is upset at me. I have been super critical of his efforts to transfer my blogs onto a new template, as by mistake Anto the tech tantric who barely reads poetry has interchanged my poem on Anger with the title of another poem on Peace.
so the blog blithely titled "Peace," has now become a hilarious ode to a 3 faced virago, a shrewish she devil who eats men on toast, or swallows them whole.

Digital demon doll has got me down at the moment as a satanic she devil because I whooped with laughter all around his ears and hooted and jeered.... because he had not even caught on to his deed. Afterwards with that angelic dimbulb smile of a child he had turned to ask me if now it was alright.

When I emphatically stated why and how it was not alright, mister digitally dampened, got all upset and sulky.
Right now he has repaired the damage and gone to sleep on the sofa in a fit of sulks and dire threats about how I am somehow to blame for the misnaming of my craftily deceptive poems.

Actually digital dumbo and his technodisastrous poetosauress are 2 of a kind.

All rights reserved
(c) Amrita Valan 2014

Beauty


Too much exposure to beauty

Beauty every day

Renders beauty ordinary

Too passe and commonplace

I mean to say what if

 beauty lost her face?


What was so invaluable

That could be left ?

Futility took its place

Then I understood beauty should

Be

Guarded secret precious

An unforgettable treat

A novelty

A retreat

A quiet summer evening’s return 

Strolling back

Bag of vegetables in hand

To one’s home.

Or a chill wind blowing through veins

Piggybacking on his speedy motorbike

hands numbing

Exquisite relief at the  sight

Of sweet home

Beauty at your doorsteps

Just what you need.

Beauty

neither rationed nor 

tumbling out of  taps

Beauty

Wandering in walking out
Unexpectedly familiar guest.

Haunting melodic earthbound erratic nostalgic  poetry in arrest.

Woosome winsome virginal ravishing 

Shy Coquettish strong and handsome

Cute lovable foxy funny

 pure child like sweet fallible

Gracious graceful radiant lovely

Knowing intuitive ardent comely 

Brutal manly boyish gamine
Tortured serene eyes like famine

Teaser. Trickster. Cordial creature

Pleasant.Pious fresh desire

Unearthly brilliant muse genius

Disciplined mentor. Devoted  mother

dutiful loyal faithful follower. 

Kind compassionate worn caregiver.

Joyous victorious elated winner.

screaming agonized  defeated loser.

ecstatic hopeful life giver.
Nursing and sheltering Madonna-esque
Mother.

Sad and sorrowful resigned brave heart

Stoical stone like pieta

Shedding tears of silence

At the eve of parting

But never till  child has turned the

corner.

Grieving mournful broken by succour

at dreams departing chaste Lips of beauty
Forever praying
Raining blessings on
beloved.
At the last leave-taking
Bidding goodbye
To beauty that was creation
Beauty
 that was life  and action
That Is and  never ever shall
Be
Be sure the beauty of
The dear departed the first beloved

The newly separated the long underrated

The always overworked the forever unvalued

The too much maligned the too little privileged

The worthy unpraised The children

The lover The father The husband

The elder brother

Kid brother and sweet baby sister

Who walked her wonderful

First walk just for you

The baby who smiled

To light up your world too.

The friend who just knew you through and through

The richly undeserved fan

Who rooted and rooted for you

The challenging enemy the scornful haters

The rightful pride that made you better

To all these many

Beauties

Beauty bids her

Adieu

Beauty how can I

Say it too?

Unasked unwanted

Heart longed for

You came

Surely not to say

“adieu, 

Carpe Diem?”

God so much beauty

In this world I've seen

Even Stillborn and unborn

beauty

in my heart has been

Bid you goodbye beauty?

How shall I?

Take me along

Make death the promise

That beauty

Itself shall not die.

In the moment of truth

In the peace of dreams

In bright light and summer shade

Dark woods and deep glades

Fancy dainty alluring shimmering

Elfin sylvan seraphic mystic

Celestial majestic

Lost

In the wreaths and whorls of heavenly flowers

Splendidly splintered

compelling spellbinding an entire universe

Into an anthem of glory

Beauty forever brightening

Dazzling charming caressing

Ennobling creating

Abundant earthy blessings.

With a divine touch

Not enough said yet

Less said the more

Beauty I rant too much.

God  thank thee

For Beauty's touch. 



All rights reserved

(c) Amrita Valan 2014

.

Peace BCR

And sooth sayeth Akshara
Sooth sayeth I.
Peace if it rains on earth
Peace if only a clouds sails the sky.

I am Akshara
The written word
The pen is the only weapon
I know.
The world is
How you write it
The word is
How you think it
The act
How you magine
The scene
How you feel
And I know
Joy
or
Pain
is so
What you  
Make of it.

So make it Real and
good and true
Peace reigns
When hearts rise
Into the  blue-white hue.

So peace be
Unto you and you
And even unto you,
And
Blessed be,
All.

All rights reserved
(c) Amrita Valan 2014

Anger

I am Trikaya the
Terrible
Three faced
Woman
I speak many
Tongues
And
Interpret
The language of your
Desires on
A foreign shore.

Like buttery toast
I swallow
You; crunch
While slurping
I gorge
You are besotted
I smile in vindicated glory
You smile in sloth,
Enslaved.
Enraged
I suction you in
And spit and spray out
The waste
And
Always
I take
Your soul
For granted.

I straddle upon a broomstick and see
Blackholes of vision
I am at the event horizon
Of your
future
termination
I am an annihilator
Through
The worm hole
Of destiny
I always seek
The End
Is my
Mission.