Thursday 20 March 2008

Strength

Strength



[Entries closed!]






Juhi the Fragrant (119)


Her strength lay in her honour, she knew. She knew what she had to do. Her war weary hands cradled her son, for the last time. The child, his face splattered with gunpowder and her blood, gurgled happily. The stench of battle no longer suffocated him. As the sound of the thunder of hooves grew nearer, she looked at him with a forlorn gaze, his dancing eyes reflecting her loss.


Finally, with an inhuman effort she gestured. Krishnabai took him in her hands and made him clasp his small palms around the handle of the flaming torch. The child suddenly cried out and protested, as if sensing the danger. But, Krishnabai was firm.


As they rode away, Damodarrao cried.



Mandappa KC (108)


I could trample a thousand souls

My words could kill a hundred hearts

My actions bereave a score minds

And my glance could silence mouths


But a little butterfly could melt my soul

A glancing wink could melt my heart

Dylan could melt my mind

A lollipop could melt my mouth

How strong am I?

Strong enough to stand my ground?

Strong enough to flow with the crowd?

Strong enough to carry you? Am I?


An ant made me wince in pain

While I withstood the howling monsoon rain

I build a thousand fires, but I'd burn in the same

How strong am I? How strong am I?



Rush.me (119)




“Did You Hear, Tina Is Expecting A Child??"

"Tina Didi, Mummy Ne Yeh Badam Bheje Hai… Chhote Baby Ke Liye"

"Tina, That Girl Na, Who Went Abroad For Studies… Some Bartending Course…Huh!! Some Guts This Girl Has, I Tell You!!"

"Didi, Yeh Baby Ke Papa Ki Photo Hai??"

"I Also Heard, She Met Some Online Friend Of Hers And Went For A Holiday With Him…Didn't Even Think Of Her Parents Once…."

"Didi, Agar Boy Hua Toh Name Hoga Tarun Aur Agar Girl Hui Toh..Umm… Teeshaa… Okay!! "

"But, Weren't They Planning A Marriage Or Engagement Something?? Whatever, The Forefather's Name Is Gone, Forever"

"Didi, Papa Ne Kaha Milk Peeke Strength Aati Hai… Aapko Toh Bahut Jarurat Hai.. Yeh Lo!!!"



The Red Ronin (120)

a single bead of sweat trickles
down, through short hair
over the mighty brow as the nearby vein
pulsates steadily to a rhythm, designed
by a lean heart steady yet intensely aware
of peculiar modulations abruptly rising
in anticipation of the signal; emanating
from the uppermost echelons of power and strength.




a tiny messenger departs towards the ancient heart
bearing wisdom to engage in action the grand organism
known only by man as mighty. The resulting synapses
sparkle and crackle and infuse the ancient one with a viguor,
unrelenting and unrepentant. This insane passion
explodes from deep within, tearing apart limitations
and renders asunder the truth; in melancholic form.
The finale ends with a resounding clap as bone meets bone.





Dok Saab (120)


"Now break this",
Grandpa had tied all the sticks together.
Gaurav Couldn't.
"See! Unity is Strength." Grandpa smiled.


"Baba, that saying is outdated.
I couldn't, doesn't mean it can't be broken.
Those sticks broke because they were rigid.
This bundle is rigid too, and you just need more force to break it.
Try breaking this, Baba"


Gaurav gave him a rubber stick.
It just bent and bounced back however hard Grandpa tried.


"See you could not break even a single stick.
Do you know why, Baba? I'll tell you why. Because it's flexible.
Baba, in this age of single child and nuclear families, unity is meaningless.
The real strength lies in the ability to bend during adversity and bounce back."



Nandini (119)


I looked blankly at the question “What is your strength”

Was it -

My smile? Granddad always said I could get away with murder with my smile.

My sharp tongue? Used to the hilt, while ticking the errant gardener, when the

waspish oldie hid our cricket ball ,when the irritating salesman didn’t take no for an

answer.

Spinach? Mom always heaped our plates with it, saying, “it’ll give you

strength”.

“Spinach” was my scribbled answer.

The interviewer looked and remarked “Ms Sen we asked for your strength, not

your eating habits”

Sigh!!!! Mom you were wrong.

I tried to smile – the interviewer just looked stony.

Grandad you were wrong too.

I felt too weak to try my third strength.



Jyoti (122)


RUDABA

Rudaba was the eldest of Shamshuddin's eight children. Losing her mother at 11 left her a blurry eyed drop-out from school and a mother to her siblings. Her marriage to Abdul Rasheed brought her to the town. But Rasheed' s accident shattered her dreams of studying again. Austerely, she resolved to educate their son Munawwar.

This afternoon they were going to a fair after school. She had been pinching pennies. He ran out of the school gate shouting with joy "Ammi nayi topi …" , not noticing the truck. She shrieked "Munna, mere bacche…."

The headlines read: "40 kg woman stops 400 kg truck: saves child". Her small room was filled with cacophony " What gave you the strength?"

Ruda whispered, "Love"


===============================================================


Manu Maharishi (75)


S- (to begin with) is Superman wearing underwear over his pants.

T- is Thomas Edward Lawrence's maddening desire to be extraordinary.

R- is Randle Patrick McMurphy's rebellion against the tyrant Nurse Ratched.

E- is Erin Brockovich's fearless self-conviction and blatant sense of humor.

N- is (also) Norman Bates's insanity .

G- is Gandhi agreeing to partition.

T- is Terminator's journey of realizing 'why humans cry?'

H- is Hoover Family's last performance in Little Miss Sunshine.



Coffee is my poison (117)


dedicated to my parents.

from strength to strength.


i hated you

you didn't let me

just...quit.

picked me up,dragged me through this

murking binness

...life.


you were my strength

when all seemed wrong

lifted me up

you made me strong.

from you i learned

right from wrong


never to hurt

always be polite.

you gave me

my conscience

that inner voice,

telling me whats right.


you are the ones

who put me

before yourselves

always,in everyway.

forsooth,even when i can't see you

you are with me always


telling me what maybe

best for me.

and i hurt you

yelled at you

misunderstood you

certainly i hated you.


you still loved me!

cared for me!

put me ahead!

the only issue in your life was me!





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Konfessioner Singh (117)


It was an accident, my hearing it on the phone.They didn’t know how I would react, besides it just wasn’t the done thing. Young girls from good families take such news calmly, over a glass of milk perhaps. So, I was to be told and someone had to do it.

The phone had been ringing for a long time now; parallel connections always cause twice the trouble. I put the receiver to my ear and focused on the clock…

He’s gone.

4:00 a.m.

Early evenings in the porch… arguments… long walks…days at the farm… books…bridge… who would fill those hours?

It’s six years since that dawn, it took more than strength to pull me through.

Wednesday 5 March 2008

Song

Song



[Entries are now closed!!]



Heady Concoction (86)




Song of Acrimony


"Just SHUT UP!" bellowed a bewildered Bunny,

But Heena was licking her honey

While chirping changing melodies

Engrossed in performing parodies.




On song she certainly was,

All caution, to the wind, did she toss.

But Bunny was ballistic.

Not mysterious as her mystic.




Heena looked up...terror in eyes

Sticky finger stuck in the skies

"Why make a song and dance..."

She mumbled feebly in a trance.



Bunny was beleaguered

A bomb as if triggered.

'Joy comes naught for a song'

Misty eyed, she realised after long.




====================




Priyanka Chakraborty(78)


Nature’s Song




A low-pitch of the north wind and,

a falsetto from down under,

a vibrato from the clouds, and

a melisma from thunder.




Swishing of the trees, as if

cords being strummed.

Crashing of the waves, as if

bongos being drummed.




All together it sounds as,

a song from the heavens

in midst of it, there's the

cappella of the ravens.




I stand on the porch,

listening to my favourite song.

Nature sings its opera,

making me sing along.




============================



Dok Saab (99)


You will, won't you?
Won't you sing my song?


Written in the ink of love
On the pages of my soul
I have poured my heart
I can not be all wrong
Won't you sing my song?


Song of my love for you
Whatever tune it may be
Whoever plays the music
I just want you to sing along
Won't you sing my song?


These meaningless words
Waiting for you to kiss them
And give them your melody
Haven't they waited too long?
When will you sing my song?


You will, someday, won't you?
Won't you sing my song?


================================

Richa Gupta(120)


"A LIFE UNSUNG"

It was amazing how she always found a song for every situation!! Like the day it was pouring yet she had come to meet me singing "badlon se aaj mein takra gayi..tumne di awaaz lo mein aa gayi" wringing her wet hair. I still laugh when I think of her singing loudly at her mother defending her messy room "chahe koi mujhe jangli kahe…" or her joy when she got posted at the border (Army Intelligence) "aaj mein upar, asmaan neeche, aaj mein aage zamaana hai peeche.." and today I see her…as they give her a 21 gun salute. Covered in the tri-color, and I can hear her sing "kar chale hum fida jaano-tan saathiyon" and I wipe a tear.





Mowgli (169)

Brazen heads; whining, mopping, mumbling, low,
Waiting; for a faithful hand, to begin the show.
Strolling so someone, the song begin,
So it starts and they, casually, join in.

But before, the artist appears,
All the trembling uncertainty longing’s built.
Hoping that their Beelzebub disappears,
When the song reaches crescendo’s hilt.

For a human artist arrived at zero,
Masses cheer him, “The Crucified Hero”
He sought to tame society, the rabid hound.
And bartering love, for a thorn made crown.

This man believed in love’s force,
His faith unshakable and reason its source.
Before his death thus moaned a song,
Misunderstood, misinterpreted for so long

Jesus:
“Sing me a song!
But-not-for-me-alone,
Sing out!
For you aare bless-ed
There is; not one among you
Who cannot, win, the kingdom!
The slow; the suffering
The quick
The dead”

Crucifiers and molesters; the people of ages:
“Hey zana,
ho! zana!
zana! zana!
ho! zana!
haaae zana!
ho! Zaaa-naaa
aaa!
Hey J.Cee.
Jey C!.
Won’t you daa-ie fo-hor me
Zana ho...
Zana hai...
Superstaaarr
rrr”.



====================================


Mandappa (111)




Song of the night.


The song of the night

Starts with the colour white

Whiffing clouds of grey

As the dusk turned late




Its half past 5 in some strange land

To corporate capitalism I lend my hand

Nowhere to run, my ground I stand

Let me listen to Dylan and his one man band



Seething trance pours out of somewhere

When will I get over this scary nightmare

Colours flash, some brilliant some rare

Im spinning around in my stationary chair




The night song ends in a flat

Because it ends with the colour black

I see no more as the colours fade

To you my friend, goodbye I bade!



================================




Nandini Sen (89)




His wife was in trauma and his unborn child was dying. But he had to leave them. As a professional singer, he had to fulfill an important contract.

When he started on his song, the fire of distress was raging within. As the song proceeded, the air got warmer, people started perspiring, flowers dried up, water began to boil, unlit lamps caught fire, flames dashed through the air.

Tansen oblivious to all this sang on.

That fateful day, Emporer Akbar and the world realized the power of Tansen’s song.



===========================




Truth Dude (120)



another day and another dream
and we're living

celebrate this and celebrate that
like you never had

your voice and your cheers
and no more tears

restrained love and a passion denied
my warm beautiful, beautiful sunshine

a stream of thought and a thread of love
the toughest binding

a home to go to and a pillow to sleep
just you and me

just you and me
together, we're free

in one place and sharing the time
and living a life so sublime.

like a song that resonates in my head
in adoring eyes on their love, hover

where a briefest touch
sets room on fire

a smile that makes life worth living
to serve your every whim and desire.



===================



Chaos (53)



She will outblind them all
As she tends to her costume of malice
In thickening night, with her strings of pall
For her pride precedes her downfall


Alone she stands in the palace lawn
Where windswept chambers mock her song
Like a rare orchid so fragile in bloom
Waiting for her nauseous dawn



==============================




Vaidehi Kapur (116)




There is a lovely song

In the food of Kylie Kwong

In the rains of Kalimpong

In the flurry of Ping Pong

Just listen all along.


In the bird that chirps

In the cricket that blurps

In the toddler that lisps

In the Lab that slips

In the horse that trots

In the coffee with froth


In the wind that whistles

In the dancer that swivels

In the heart's beat

In a couple's meet

In a painter's art

In a bustling mart


In the gompas gong

In the dusky bong

In the prospering fields

In the cow that yields

In your loving pet

At life's every step


Sow some aplomb

Come on, listen for the song.




==================================





Sarang Mahajan (120)





“The wind howls oddly,” I whispered.


I was at the terrace of a forest guesthouse with its caretaker, who vaguely looked at the wild grassland disappearing into the distant mountains, where the sun set.


“There’s an old tale here, Sir. A battle was fought here and this land taken from the tribal-men. They were all assassinated. But it’s said their last man had knelt on the bloody field and sang a song, which can still be heard when the wind blows.”


.

Fascinated, I closed my eyes…


And yes, I heard a painful voice floating with the wind.

.


The meadows shan’t be green again

My son will never play

But to speak of my lovely home

My song shall always stay…




=====================================



Mickey the Monkey (120)




"Mere piyaa gaye Rangoon…….."

Not able to sleep, I was listening to the radio.

"wanhaase kiya hai telifoon………."

Jane was away, attending Rushmi's marriage.

"tumhaari yaad satati hai……….."

I tried to call her, but her phone was engaged.

Whom could she be talking to past midnight?

"One-o-clock and you are listening to old melodies on Radio Missy,

I am your host & dost Richa.

Online with me is the lady who requested this song.

Hello, what is your name?

-Jane.

Jane, what keeps you awake so late?

-I am away from home and missing my husband.

Do you want to say something to him, maybe he's listening?

-Yes.

-Hi Mickey, I am missing you badly, this song was for you.


======================================

Sneha (25)




Deep whispers tonight

Compel me to sing the night song

I and my solitude walk hand in hand

Amidst thousand lanes well acquainted with night!



==============================


The Devil Diva (87)




The Siren Song




Born at sea

of Phorcys and maybe Nephrate.

Orphaned by Homer

in the Odyssey

You are the trio

The Sirens

Unmatched

Unparallel in History




Half woman and half bird

Molpe, Legeia and Teles is the third

Singing your relentless song

Urging the mariners along

the rocky shores,

to their destiny




Your songs are bewitching

yet no one knows what you sing

you mesmerize

entice

beckoning ships to wreck

and sailors to die

as they follow your voice

slavishly




the song of the Sirens

Ahhhh the Sirens' Song







====================================


Konfessioner Singh (166)




[Not up for the kompetition]

Spots of green
Stare from a face of red
Orange tears
Feed empty bowls
Of the dead…

Dry is this jugular
Coughing dry wheat
Mud simmers
Where once was Spring.

The young ‘un falls
Four legs giving way
His black tongue hanging loose
For a sip
A single sip
From someone’s
Pot of clay…

While she
With the possibly gold nose pin
The starry blackened gold nose pin
With
Two dots of blue tattooed
To tell
Her tribe;

She sells her plates
One for Two
Surprised with Three
Explaining
With pride
The use of each--
One for maize
The other wheat.

It gathers,
This red face paste
Inside my neck
My ears
Hissing in my ears
It’s dying song.

All this
While I race by nine villages
A thousand forgotten people
Ten crow-breakfast cow-carcasses
A child that walks on all fours
Another with no feet
A third with yellow eyes
And its a hissing blur...

So
Hear this,
Tremulous is the tune
Of a dry song.