The strangest thing though is this.. till date I had been spared of such direct questioning of my single woman status! And I honestly believed that I would always get away with it, because somehow I was different!
How many decades ago was it that the liberation of womenkind began? How many trends have come and gone, to be ultimately replaced by "Tulsis" on the silver-screen?
I mean there is normalcy y'know to my existence as well... I do regret not having found my soul-mate, or having found and lost them several times and swallowing the stark reality that love is not necessarily an eternal emotion... I clinch at the thought of growing up and growing out of my child-like fantasies of romance... There's enough of that pain in my life. And a dear Aunt came along to remind me of yet another pragmatic truth.... that I was getting old, and fast, without having achieved anything - neither career-wise nor on the personal front!
Oh well, its times like these that poetry comes to the rescue I guess :) Found an old notebook that I had penned down some verses in... Penned another in it, and decided to post 'em all together on today's post.
I began with good intent
We all begin with good intent,
And so the man was born!
My mind it sowed the seed of love
In a land more fertile than bone...
A man I sought - I thought, I felt
A man I screamed to need,
Groaning, I soaked all his love
Alongwith that his weed.
A barren man, my eyes perceive
Barren, barren is my soul.
Emptied of, that something - coarser than lust
Coarser and completely unwhole!
I began with good intent
I began well indeed
I had a man, licked off the scraps
And lost a friend to need.
Perplexed I waited
For the friend to rise again
A Phoenix from the ashes of damnation -
Here ends my tale, for I'm waiting still
A witness to my own condemnation.
The man, the friend
Long gone, hearty and well-faring:
Laughing, looking on as I became
A victim of my own ensnaring.
Dedicated to a friend without whom I would have never woken up to face the realities of life and love. Thank you!
The irony of her inferiority
The woman, she is a good mason.
Skillful masonry enshrouds her
Yet, she leaves a key-hole open
To help man's perspective cripple her.
The woman, she is a good hawker.
She knows her wares so well:
Yet the man beats her in salesmanship
For all her communication, she cannot sell!
The woman, she's a good diplomat
She learnt tact the hard way:
Yet the man's unscrupulous wit
Beats her in politics everyday.
The woman, she is a good artist
Sensual, sentimental et al:
But the man can sell better copy
At the cost of the woman's downfall!
The woman, she is divinity
All goodness and beauty within:
But reigns Supreme does the man,
For he has not her conscience for a sin!
Random pieces of my work
We all sit
In this crowded place
Each mind travels
To places afar.
My mind draws a blank
No creation here
Yet its quiet belies
Perplexity and chaos.
Where do you want
to be, free thought?
What do you think
your thoughts should be?
Such painful emptiness
Yet revelling are thee?
Patience and adaptation
Long lost friends
Where do I find you?
Why must I find you?
A squirrel in my heart
Scurries up and then down
Never a sign does it show
Of a smile nor a frown.
It goes about, collects love
Like acorns in summer,
Yet knows that love is like a bubbly
Unscrew and the fizz always dies by winter.
But this squirrel of a heart
In its scurrying, found a friend or two
The fizz was gone thats the honest truth
But come winter, she hoped love would burst anew.