A NEW CHALLENGE.

Corinne, of Everyday Gyaan is always coming up with new ideas to motivate and inspire people to write more and this is her new challenge.

 

 The 7x7x7x7 Writing Prompt :

Grab the 7th book from your bookshelf. 

Open it up to page 7. 

Pinpoint the 7th sentence on the page. 

Begin a poem that begins with that sentence and limit it in length to 7 lines.

The 7th book on my bookshelf is a book very dear to me - Chicken Soup for the Mother's Soul.

The seventh line on the seventh page goes like this - 

"Have to make a really tough decision, a choice that is actually brutal."

The duality of choices

wears me down

It tries and tests me;

It is that moment when

I remain strong

Listening to the heart and instinct

Seldom going wrong.

The choices we make in our lives, big or small; temporary or a permanent one, is always a fight between our heart and our mind. I would like to say that the heart is right always, but cannot discard our judgement. Whether we made the right choice or the wrong one, only time will tell.

       

ALL THE JAZZ.

 

 The first time I cried, 

Must have felt music to her ears,

She must have smiled through her tears- 

Of joy, pain and relief.

The first time I laughed,

It must have felt music to her ears,

She must have beamed with pleasure 

Ready to show it off to the world.

The first time I gurgled,

Her heart must have skipped a beat

She couldn't wait to hear more.

My first word, 

Must have brought a tear,

Her heart must have sang a symphony

Every milestone I achieved,

Was music to her eyes

And soul.

Pampered and stubborn

I ganged up with my brothers

Was their partner in crime

The mischiefs we did    

And the music we faced 

As a consequence....

  

Teenage brought crushes

For each day, the heart sang

A different tune

Every time I saw him

I would go va va vroom.

Every laughter,

Every smile,

Every handshake

And goodbye

The silences and

The void

Memories-

That rolls down your eyes

Or

Plays on your lips

As a smile,

A prayer    

The fears

Every tug at the heart

Creates Music.

Written for GBE2.

 

     

COSMIC RHYTHM.

The gentle sway of the trees
The buzz of the bees
The cool breeze
The way we breathe.

Flames dancing in the wind
Embers flying
Rush of adrenalin
Kindled by spark within.

Incessant lapping of waves
Gushing of the stream
Cascading down to fall
Soothing ripples that gleam.

Rotations, Revolution,
Birth and death,
The very heartbeat,
Seasons and evolution.

The clap of thunder
Flash of lightening
Pitter patter rains drops
The gust of storm winds.

FOR - dVerse Poets
            Theme Thursday 
 

 

    

SPLIT.

A pact made, signed,

Sealed and tucked away

In the depths of the heart

Conscience, the only witness

Of this act

Holding hands, silently

Promising to walk...together

Two steps farther

A hand breaks away

For a greener pasture

The deal broken,

The shards lying 

To be picked up

When pain is the vacuum

Smile, a saving grace

Zen master you must be

Moving on, not even a 

Backward glance, no adieu,

No words to right a wrong?

OR

Was it a blessing in disguise?

   

For - The mag 

 

  

TIDINGS.

"Aiyoo, Devare!" 
How can a day
That started off well
Took to bad and
Then to worse???

"Mazaa aaya" 
A wonderful, relaxed time - 
Friends, good food and gossip
Indeed a time spent well.
"Sacchi mazaa aaya."    

Bleeding, he was brought home
My son and his heroics
Hurt and gashed,
Had to be sewn up
"Ek pal, zindagi badaldi"
Charmed the nurse....all well.

Related by blood
Connected by heart
She succumbed to cancer
Was in awe of her beauty,
In and out 
Bidding a long distance goodbye
"Devare...sakappa."

 For -  dVerse poets 
Use of foreign tongues in poetry :
"Aiyoo Devare" means Oh, God! in kannada, a vernacular language of Karnataka, a South Indian State.
"Mazaa aaya" means - had fun, in Hindi, our National language.
'Sacchi mazaa aaya" - Really had fun, in Hindi.
"Ek pal, zindagi badaldi" means - one moment changed my life, in Hindi.
"Devare...sakappa" means, Enough God, in Kannada.
    
      

NEVER SAY NEVER

 

Go out and venture,

Isn't life an adventure!

Good and bad in balance

Things are bound to happen

In the cycle of life.

A ship safe in the harbour

Isn't happy to be there

Put it out

Where it has to be

And see it dare

Danger lurks in very corner-

Of our mind

Fear and stagnate

OR

Do and die

Never say never

See through your fear

And give life a try. 

For - dVerse Poets

Poetry Jam  

     

THE HOMECOMING.

WARNING: For those you find this lengthy...it is.

The plot of this story is outlined by Rajrupa Gupta - Indian Fiction Workshop.

THE HOMECOMING.

 Suicide. Dheeraj has been thinking about taking his life these days.
This seems to be the only solution to his problems. Not that he
considers himself to be alive. Breathing, living, going through the
motions, which classify as living…yes. But, being alive was something he has forgotten years ago. And, taking his own life meant easily letting go of all that he has fought for.

 He had fought hard to live, even when the chances were slim and the odds against him. He had survived on hope and love alone. Love for his family and in the hope of reuniting with them. Here, he was now, with his wife Suguna and son Chirag, clueless about the life they were living. They were not happy. Till now he has not been able to connect
with Chirag at an emotional level. Sugana is understanding and
patient. Chirag is the problem! It is like taking one step forward and a whole yard backward. Dheeraj is more depressed now than ever. Though he is considered a hero among the other jawans of his army unit, he feels like a looser at home. Life has been playing a cruel joke on him.

He walks up and stands in front of the mirror. There was nothing
familiar with the person he saw in the mirror and the person he had
been. A disfigured face stares back. Gaunt and hallowed face; blood shot eyes, red rimmed with lack of sleep. A permanent frown between his brows; lips drooping in a grimace; a scar running diagonally the length of his left cheek. The stitch marks on the scar visible making it look like a millipede. His nose a bit crooked. He looks at his hands, the little finger missing from his left hand and other fingers misshapen from being broken at different places. He now walks with a permanent limp, his legs having borne the trauma of multiple fractures. Whenever he smiled it turned out like a smirk, annoying people. He is 40 but looks older than that. He had been decent looking back then. Close cropped hair, well muscled body making him look shorter than his 5.8” height. Youthful looks with a strong character and a thick moustache. The moustache now covers a scar.

He had suffered unimaginable atrocities at the hands of his enemy
where he was a prisoner of war for more than 4 years. He had vowed never to let his past interfere with his present. And, this was
proving hard than fighting his enemy. He looked scary and people
stayed away from him, even his own son.

Dheeraj’s eyes then falls on the photo that is hung on the wall to
his right. Rather, he sees it deliberately. The photograph was taken
more than 5 years back, his last visit home before his trip to hell
and back. It had been a happy occasion, Suguna’s second baby shower. She looked so radiant in the photograph. She had decked up like a bride. The traditional ghoongat covering her head, the red sindoor adorning her forehead on the parting of her hair, the bindi between her eyebrows matching the deep orange colour of her saree. Her smile was so beautiful. They both looked so happy, and they had been. The future seemed so promising and dreamy for this Subedhar Major and his family. The house had filled with songs, happiness and laughter. She was in her last trimester of her pregnancy. She had conceived again, 10 years after Chirag. They both had decided on the name of the child. Suraj, if it was a boy and Diya if the baby was a girl. Both of them had hoped for a girl.

He then walks to his bed and slumps on it. There had been no baby.
Suguna had given birth to a stillborn baby…. a girl! She had gone into a shock hearing that he was “missing in action, presumed dead.” She had lost both her baby and her husband, until he had chosen to come back from the dead.

His thoughts are interrupted by the sound of the calling bell.
Opening the door, “Chirag? Why are back from school so soon? Is
everything ok? Did you have a test or an exam?” His questions are met with a silence.

Chirag locks himself in his room and throws his bag angrily on his
reading table knocking off some books, pen holder and a lamp, sending them flying on the floor. First, it was his classmates, then the Principal, and now, his dad. How he hated to call him his dad! He gets into unwarranted fights with his friends because of this man. He feels embarrassed to go out with his friends. His peers shun him. He so wanted his dad to come back. But, now that he actually has, he feels difficulty in accepting him. He is confused and at loss.
 
“Chirag…I heard some things fall. Are you ok?” Dheeraj asked from the other side of the door. This irks Chirag further. He opens the door to find Dheeraj standing there and so shouts at him. “Why couldn’t you be dead? Why did you have to come back? Can’t you just mind your own business? Look at what you have done. You have ruined my life!” He bangs the door shut and bolts it from inside. He can’t believe he said that to his dad. He feels guilty now. This is the man he idolized as a child. This is his dad who taught him how to fish with bare hands in the pond; the dad,who taught him to swim; who kidnapped him from school whenever he was
back in town on a holiday. The two of them were inseparable. Dheeraj had even got Chirag an army uniform and they would go to the nearby park where they would play the game of war. They took toy guns, painted their face black and play the game. Sometimes they included a couple of Chirag’s friends. They never got tired of it.

When Dheeraj re-entered their life, Chirag was super excited. He
wanted to relive all those childhood moments and memories. He always boasted to his friends that his dad was a war hero and how he aspired to be like him.  But, that was only till he saw his dad properly. Not just his physical scars or deformity, but also his depression and nightmares. Now he was just angry and confused. His idol had fallen from grace.

Suguna was having her coffee break when she got the call.  It was
Dheeraj. “Tell me Dheeraj. Is anything the matter?” Dheeraj smiled in spite of the turn of events, which he was yet to tell her. He almost never called her when she was working.  She was so sure and her voice sounded strong, so very unlike from the Suguna he had left 5 years back. It was such an irony that their lives were divided into THEN and NOW. Each one led his or her own life all those in between 5 years.“Dheeraj?” He brought his attention back to the present. “Guna, Chirag is not at home” says Dheeraj. “What do you mean? It is just 4 pm. Maybe he has stayed back at school for his NCC class" reasoned Suguna. "He was back home early, Guna. That was around 11.30 in the morning. He was upset and angry. You know he does not talk to me or share anything with me. He had his lunch and left home. I thought he was going to meet his friends or just to cool off.  His Principal had called a few minutes back.” He hears Suguna sighing and he continues. “He got into
a fight with a few of his class mates. Hit them pretty bad. The
Principal has placed Chirag on suspension.” Suguna is clearly upset now. “Ok...Dheeraj, hold on. I am leaving now, will take an autorickshaw and will come home as soon as possible. I will call his friends.  Please will you go and check if he is in the public library or his art class.” Saying “ok” Dheeraj disconnects the
phone.

Suguna deep breathes while traveling back home. She wants to stay
calm. She cannot panic now. Life was throwing googlies at her time and again and she had been dodging them and was emerging a winner. She was tiding the waves. But, it still got on her nerves. It seemed that their troubles were never ending. It was like life was settling score with them for having given them happiness for years, only to take it back. She wanted to be angry with Chirag. She wanted to blame some one but whom?? Dheeraj? Knowing well his vulnerable mental condition, he tried to stay away from interfering as much as possible. He had also started training probable aspirants who wanted to join NDA thus keeping himself busy and contributing to the family income. He was undergoing therapy to overcome his depression. He still was fighting a lone battle. Chirag was not to be blamed either. He was at a stage where reasoning with him was futile. He had to grow up too soon and had to act responsible. He had been her reason to live and so her strength. He needed counseling, she thought. She hoped that he would come back home on his own and willed not to fear the worst.

The pain, the hollowness and the constriction in the chest…the all
too familiar feeling was returning. The memories she had blocked till now were resurfacing. She had lost her husband and she had paid with the life of her unborn baby by going into shock. For months she was like a zombie, the trauma too much to bear. Her parents and in-laws took care of her and Chirag. And one fine day, as if waking up from a nightmare, she decided that she couldn’t live in denial and self-pity anymore. Dheeraj was a strong man who never shied away from a challenge. He would expect the same from her. She wanted to live in dignity and not as a dependent. She wanted Dheeraj and Chirag to be proud of her. She had initially taken up a job as a Receptionist. She passed the BA exams privately and also did a computer course. She now was working as an Accounts Assistant in a College.

The Auto rickshaw she is travelling in hits a pothole. She comes out
of her reverie. Calling Chirag’s friends one by one, she only hears
the complaints of each parent against him. She feels beaten. She
returns to an empty house. She calls Dheeraj on his mobile. He answers immediately. But, he does not have to say anything. She can make out from his voice that he has not been able to trace Chirag.

She goes into Chirags room. Opening his cupboard and going through his books, drawers, she checks for any clue, which may point out as to where he might have gone. She comes across his art book. He has drawn the pictures of some caves and forest, pages and pages of it. She is perturbed.  As soon as Dheeraj comes home, she shows him the picture. He pales. “Guna, give me torch, a bottle of water. I will pack a change of clothes for Chirag. A packet of biscuit. “ He is talking to himself rather than to Suguna. She squeezes his shoulder. “What’s happening Dheeraj? Will you share your thoughts with me please?“ “Guna, we will have dinner together. I will bring Chirag, I promise you that. And yes, make his favourite puri-kheer. “

Suguna’s patience is wearing thin. It is almost midnight. It has been
4 hours since Dheeraj left. She has been calling him on his mobile,
but hearing the ‘not reachable’ message. In her desperation, she has made calls to her parents and to her in-laws. They all have arrived. The mood of the house is somber. Her mother and mother-in-law have finished making dinner for everyone. They are talking in the kitchen in a muted tone.  The TV is playing. No one is really paying attention to it. Her father-in-law has dozed off sitting.

The calling bell rings. Suguna runs to open the door. She collapses
in Chirag’s arm with relief. Dheeraj and Chirag help her and make her sit on the couch. She is sobbing now. The others surround them.
Dheeraj’s dad wakes up hearing the commotion. He commands everyone to stay quiet and not bombard them with questions.“Dheeraj, will you please fill in?”

Chirag is hugging his mom and crying with her, repeatedly saying
sorry. Dheeraj begins – “When Suguna showed me Chirag’s drawings, I was taken aback. It was our secret place, Chirag’s and mine. We would go there and I would tell him stories about wars and our life in the Army. Today, he was hurt and also scared to face Suguna after being suspended from school. He did not know what to do. So, he ran away and hid in the caves. He was secretly hoping that we find him. I guess he wanted to see if I still remembered, if I still cared.  He wanted to see whether I could be the same dad to him, as I once was. Hope I was able to help him. Chirag?”
 
“Yes, dad. I was stupid and naïve. My classmate’s taunts were making me believe things that I did not want to. You were my hero. And when I saw you the way you are, depressed and having nightmare every night, staying aloof, I felt so lost. I wanted my hero back. Ma…I am sorry. I so misunderstood dad. I thought looks were everything. Ma, the caves are in the forest and quite a climb. Dad did it, with his bad leg. He came all the way for me. It hurts him a lot to walk even short distances, but he climbed up to the caves. He took pains for me. He cares for me ma, and I hurt him so much.” Dheeraj hugs Chirag with tears in his eyes.

Suguna first goes into the kitchen where there is a small mandir. She lights the diya and thanks the God for keeping Chirag safe and
bringing him back home. She then brings a bowl of kheer and feeds it to Chirag and Dheeraj.

This is a part of the Indian Fiction Workshop.