A SALUTATION TO THE GURU.
A SALUTATION TO THE GURU.
I was born with eyes.
You gave them a perspective.
A vision of life.
I was born with hands.
You showed, when to extend the palm.
Or form a fist, as per the demand.
I was born with legs.
AN ODE TO MY PROCREATOR.
AN ODE TO MY PROCREATOR.
Holding the eraser for assurance.
You extended the pencil to me.
You didn’t dictate the definitions,
But waited patiently for me.
You never erased, instead slashed the mistakes.
“Mistakes showcase your endeavours,
Corrections, your learning ability.”
You would say.
You were my mighty Hero,
Unlike the ones the world described.
Your care didn’t harbour dependency.
As your flaws,
You never camouflaged to hide.
“We are all Humans in the making”.
You would profoundly say.
Your unconditional love.
Your emancipated care,
Helped me become and grow.
My Begetter. My Alma Mater.
To you I owe. To you I bow.
DID YOU ENJOY THE SHOW?
DID YOU ENJOY THE SHOW?
At dawn, the sky was painted with Sun’s soft glow.
Her dreamy eyes watched it with visuals of the future,
Playing before the innocent eyes.
The Sun travelled to the zenith,
Hot, heating and burning bright.
Running and rushing to fulfill her dreams.
With wet temples, feet sore, she lost the pace of time.
The Sun had now descended. It was twilight.
Her creased body noticed the grey sky.
Saddened at this juncture.
Her eyes flooded, longing for the white sky.
Pouring, until the sunlight was nowhere in sight.
Drained. Laid on her back, she heard a voice call.
“So did you enjoy the show?”
Dazed. She retorted, “Show? What show?”
“The Sun’s show! Playing right before your eyes.”
Jolting out of the trance she replied,
“But I was in my show.”
HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY.
HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY.
You aren’t a person or a relation.
You are an Emotion.
A prayer in elation and depression.
Even the healing and strengthening Mantra chants fade.
When one utters the word “Maa”.
(SUGGEST A TITLE FOR THE POEM)
The hind head fallen over the back,
The pleading eyes, stared.
The outstretched angular arms,
Called to the wide, hide sky.
Before the towering almighty.
For years, every hour each day.
DARKNESS
DARKNESS.
I am dark.
But I don’t defy light.
I am omnipresent.
But I don’t belittle the finite.
I am dreaded.
But generating fear is not my type.
I am mystic.
A note to younger self
A note to younger self.
If not now, then when?
I have watched you grow.
I have felt your woes.
I have seen your cries,
And also the dimples on the side.
The challenges you posed,
Also, the ones you didn’t show.
Crevices Of Hopelessness
Crevices Of Hopelessness..
The moon stayed.
Stayed for long. Really long.
The tiring wait,
Blurred the vision,
Shrunk the heart.
The weakened winks,
Now breathless, lost hope.
Hope to see the light.
Watch the sunrise.
THE SURGE OF INK.
THE SURGE OF INK.
Drowned. Chocked and Constrained.
The pent-up emotions, slid open the barrage.
Splashing over the sheet,
The Ink let go of the surcharge.
With the swell of love,
GIRL IN A MILLION Book Review by Monica Gupta
GIRL IN A MILLION Book Review
ANITHA PADANATTIL’S GIRL IN A MILLION: A TALE OF BONDING AND REDEMPTION.
“Never judge a book by its cover”, said someone. “A thing of beauty is joy forever” said another. Agreeing with the former and justifying the latter, the vibrant book cover of Girl in a million immediately captivates the attention and the pages hold you. Told in the 90s at the beautiful town of Oothukudi, the story moves back and forth between the past and present. Sagharika also known as Dr.S, the protagonist, along with other minor characters, Marge, Shruthi and Ratna are crafted well from their adolescent age knows as Core Z to their adulthood, covering details of their schooldays, to facing horrifying events, to moving away in different direction as they pursue their individual goals. The plot pivots around these girls. How they connect? The secrets they share. How they come to terms with the ill-fated past? What binds them? How their personalities lead them to their individual fate? And most importantly, how these girls leap the time and space distance to stay bonded?