Friday, June 17, 2016

Nurturing life

One day while going for my walk I saw a small plant raising its head and trying to grow from the earth I walked on inspired by the struggle of the plant.To me it represented the struggle of life we all undergo.
After several days had passed I saw two green leaves shaking from the plant. its struggle was bearing fruit. I thought about my life and thought my struggle too would bear fruit.
Several days passed and the plant bore a bud. I felt excited as I was seeing my life in the growth of the plant.
Next day I saw someone had uprooted the plant and thrown it. Dejected I picked up the plant and brought it home. I planted it in my garden and today it is a beautiful rose bush.
I see the metaphor of life in the growth of the plant. As life thrives when nurtured with attention and care and withers away when left unattended so did my plant.
So care for life in whatever form it comes your way.

Tuesday, June 14, 2016

The making of hard Jake

As I look yonder below the cliff I see the mighty sea. I think of my life as a sailor. I have sailed through the world. I have seen life at close quarters and experienced the highs and lows of life. I have two wonderful kids and am happily married. But this is not my story. This is the story of hard Jake, and how he acquired such a strange name. He was not always hard and serious. He was a boisterous, affable and lovely boy who had one love in life and that was red lipped Gina.
We were all residents of Goa and life was good. Merchant navy is a good profession and you get to see a lot of life, I had sailed a lot with hard Jake and can vouch for the fact that he was a hard working lad.
Let us go to the time when hard Jake did not have that nick name and was simply Jake ( I didn't know him then). People say that he was a very charming lad and was loved by all. Hard working and sincere he was the apple of his captain's eye.
Let me also tell you about red lipped Gina, she was a pretty gal with a laughter that sounded like bells jingling. She was Jake's love interest and was very popular.
One day there came green-eyed Romeo on the shores of Goa. He was not a native of Goa, and had sailed from a far off land. Nobody knew his actual name. Everybody called him green-eyed Romeo because of his green lusty eyes. From the beginning he had eyes on Gina. He would cast lusty long looks on Gina, who was aware of this but ignored him.
One night Gina had gone for a party, she was looking lovely in red dress and had applied red lipstick which looked lovely on her. Jake had gone sailing and Gina missed him. It was a dark night and she returned late to her apartment.
Green-eyed Romeo had followed Gina to her apartment and knocked on the door. Wondering who was it at this late hour Gina went to answer the door. She saw Green-eyed Romeo and was about to shut the door in his face. But he barged in and caught hold of her hands. He then struck a hard blow on Gina's face which sent her reeling. He next pushed her on the bed and parted her legs and raped her.
Gina was reeling with pain she took a rope and hung herself from the fan.
When Jake returned from ship he came to know that Gina had committed suicide.He was shocked. He also came to know that people had seen green-eyed Romeo entering her apartment. He immediately rushed to green-eyed Romeo's shack and struck him a blow. He hit green-eyed Romeo hard but being a law abiding citizen he did not kill him.
He was heart broken and spent many days at the bar drinking himself to the death. But gradually he sobered and went about life as usual. But life was not the same without Gina and the happy lad had turned into a hard man who did not have feelings for anyone. People started calling him hard Jake and when I came to know his story I told Jake to move on in life but he said there was no life without Gina.
Jake is an old, lonely man now. He never took another partner and lives a lonely life.

Wednesday, June 8, 2016

Portrait of my teacher

She was a woman short in height with sturdy legs that were pock marked. Her sturdy legs and plump body carried her everywhere. A familiar figure in the small town where I lived. She was a mother of two. Her son was afflicted with down's syndrome and daughter was married when I first came to know her.
A strict teacher, she enjoyed teaching and went about the chores of life in  a disciplined fashion. A fighter to the core she used to walk to the school where she worked. Sari tied high on her torso, one could see her sturdy legs peeping beneath her sari. I didn't like her as a teacher but she was an inspiration to me.
Nobody ever saw her husband, perhaps he was no more or perhaps she was separated from her husband. The word divorce cannot be associated with a traditional woman like her. Come to think of it, she didn't look like a woman who needed a husband to complete her life.
I have seen single men complaining that they have to look after their children alone. But never did my idol complain. She proudly paraded her son afflicted with down's syndrome and looked after her daughter when the daughter was pregnant.
I wonder where she is now? Is she broken down in spirit or is still her tall, proud sturdy self?I thank life for giving me a glimpse of a tall woman who was short in height.

Monday, June 6, 2016

Writing poems

I'm not a poetic soul, hence writing poetry doesn't come naturally to me. Yet I have taken to writing poems inspired by a friend. Poems help me satisfy the sudden impulses within me. I don't follow any rules of poetry just pen down my feelings. Hope my poems appeal to my readers. Please comment on my poems and let me know how you have liked them. I express my inner self through my poems and in the process let go the stress which has been bothering me. In one of my poems I expressed the inner torment that I was going through. It helped me get rid of the noises within my head. I wish my readers would comment and let me know what they think of my poems.
My favorite genre is short story and I have read short stories of O'Henry, Guy De Maupassant, Ruskin bond, RabindranathTagore, Anton Chekov and many others. Short story as a medium appeals to me.
I began writing short stories when I was in the 12th Grade. I didn't publish my first story and I'm planning a book ( A novel). But it is still to see the light of day. I want to write about life as I have experienced it. The joys, the sorrows and the pitfalls. Each event shaping my personality.
I think of myself as an optimist, still better a realist with positive leanings. I have gone through a lot of pain and suffering at the personal level. But it has not made me bitter, rather I have developed sensitivity towards my fellow beings.
Pain of dejection, unwarranted sufferings have all been my lot and I want to write a story with a positive end, though life doesn't always give happy endings but I feel my cloud always has a silver lining. I will begin my novel soon. Till then keep reading my blog and commenting on the posts.

Wednesday, June 1, 2016

You feel I don't understand your pain

You feel I don't understand your pain.
The pain of lost moments,
a feeling of incompleteness
The futility of expecting
from a person who failed to understand you.
You an achiever
a dynamic personality
a vibrant person flowing through life like a river
gushing with energy at the bends.
He a weakling in spirit and physically.
Do you think you did justice to yourself by
bestowing all your love and warmth on an undeserving person
A man who did not understand the sense of completeness a woman requires.
No, dear you didn't do justice to yourself and others by wasting your inner self on
an undeserving soul.
Rise afresh and look around there are good men around you.
Yes, dear I understand that you hesitate and falter from
unrequited memories but believe me there are greener pastures just yonder
Just look around and reach out your hands.