A heaven near Mumbai

My recent trip to Matheran made me realise that natural beauty in India is grossly underestimated (of course only by Indians). The boulevard I walked through is still vivid in my memory. Charlotte Lake was lush green and made one wonder whether this is what Heaven looks like.
My legs did ache for the rest of the day but it was worth climbing up the high mountain and appreciating God's creation. It was a nice break from the daily city rush. It helped me soothe calm down and soothe my restless nerves. Any place lush with trees will always make you feel rejuvenated and refreshed. Matheran, Lonavala & Khandala are just the places to go for a forest walk and reinforce your faith in God and his picturesque creation.
I am sure there are many other unexplored locations near Mumbai and in Maharashtra and I would love to go there one day. This trip to Matheran was fulfilling especially because of the company of friends and loved ones. My I-day went really well.

Milkar bichadna

Woh pehla gaana
jo yaad dilaaye kisiki
woh muskurana,
chhedna, hasna
us geet ko gungunana,
aansu dilaaye kisiko.
Milkar bhi mil na sake,
aisi kismet bhi hoti hai yaaron.
Dilon main koi doori nahi,
phir bhi meelon door ud jaata hai pyar yaaron.
Ro ro ke bhi alag hote hai log,
kyunki milkar bichadne se darte hai log.
Dilon main pyar rakhkar,
ant tak use yaad rakhna chahte hai,
nafrat ko koi jagah nahi dena chahte hai yeh,
ant tak us pyar ko yaad rakhe
isliye door chale jaate hai log.
(Written on 22/02/09)

Death

Is this the ignorance of death that eludes us?
Helps us escape the thought,
and run the daily chakra mechanically?
Is it God's handiwork that makes us forget
the eternal black truth?
Or else we wouldn't move or walk,
the earth might stop.
This earth wasn't meant to stop, right?
Therefore we move along with it,
like a wheel in mechanical motion
spinning on its axis.
Its spins pre-decided.
But we don't have to think of death,
of its finality when we look into the mirror
combing our hair.
Death is just there,
like the kajal in our eyes,
smile on our lips,
love in our hearts
and money in our hands.
So, is the puppet ready to take a backseat?
Who'll ask?
It'll just disappear, there, somewhere.

(Written on 19/02/09)

I press my lips with the chapstick,
what was I thinking?
Would they look luscious,
attract attention with the pout?
Will it help to not show the otherwise
poor chapped pink strawberries?
I think the pale pink poor urchins
compliment my type, my body.
Lusciousness seems out of place somehow,
doesn't gel with the otherwise unkempt self.
Smooth strawberries do not even provide
self-confidence as big as their pout.
Then why waste your time
thinking that lusciousness makes you standout somehow.
Don't bother the mind into the pout,
the kissing and the meeting of eyes.
It doesn't go with your type somehow.

Woman

The all encompassing, all loving mother, wife,
stands a pole to her family,
a rope to bind them.
The cross with arms wide open,
to take in all the tantrums and love.
To bleed for others' smiles,
shed the water in
and wipe the tears out.
Taking in the fears,
the strength of the home,
the pillar that never falls
but frails.
Withers in old age,
with memories for company.

A few random lines

(1)
I see, I dream, I wish,
I conceive an idea,
I see, I shatter, I break.
I shed water then I forget
I am low but still I grow,
then again I dream
and circle completes.
(2)
Don't make an effort to write,
it is not in everybody's might.
But still just write few random lines,
not to show off but to let out
the little wish to write.
There walks the great lion strutting along the way.
His kingship worshipped by many,
with no fear along the way.
When will I learn to break,
the clutches of rhyme.
Learn to write
with no rhyme scheme in sight.
The lion comes in sight again,
making me weave dreams once again.
I fly and fly and keep weaving,
never to touch the reality.
There is no wish to touch the ground
No desire to be anywhere
But there and only there
where the heart beats and time flies.

Merry Christmas and the good old school days!

Another eventful year comes to an end with the last of its holidays going on. Every year Christmas reminds me of my Christian Missionary school days. Mary Immaculate Girls' High School celebrated the festival loaded with activities. It was fun to watch some bright students enacting Mother Mary and looking innocently at the baby Jesus (it was a doll, except for one year when a real baby was used). Of course, girls who got the role were teacher's favourite and star students of the school. They were remembered for the rest of the year as 'oh-the-girl-who-got-the-lead-role.' But I remember my role as a shepherd or a king. I used to be so happy to be a part of the drama (I wonder why as these roles never had any dialogues or even movements on stage. We just had to stand in one place and smile at the baby doll).
Another thing I remember is the yummy strawberry ice cream. It wasn't exactly yummy but it was provided by the school and holidays were due next day made it taste good. I don't remember but I think we had some take-home gifts as well. Like a pencil, scale and eraser set. And of course the lovely Santa who threw toffees at kids engrossed in the play.
These things were not exotic or fun in today's grown-up sense but somehow completed my picture of a complete happy christmas. They are a part of my good-old-days-memory now. Merry Christmas and a very happy new year. :)