Walk Into the desert of my life

Walk into the desert of my life…for I call for you,
I will cry away your tears, for mine has dried into patience waiting

Pick up this pebble lying lost along the beaches of this forsaken lagoon
For I am waiting to be noticed……acknowledge my presence.

Look up for I am that broken cloud which doesn’t have you,
To bring downpour of bliss and euphoria

Allow me to touch and feel you, for I am all there
To take you on a ride to that utopia of silent acceptance of romance

Hold me for the rest of your way for I am no walking stick
But a stranger who is walking away into the strangeness of oneself

No one understands me probably for I am little labyrinth in my own self
I am not asking to simplify complications; your silent stare can come to some consolation

I want to be wanted, I desire to be desired, love to be loved.
To share my glass of wine with someone…to cheer the camaraderie

Collect the broken strings of my life to relate a relation meaningful
You can make it work, you can make me come alive, you can.

I take a stroll round the uptown parks, and come back like every other yesterday
Give me a reason not to come back….in the sense coming back to what I was.

I am as helpless as a baby immediately out of his mother’s womb
A baby who doesn’t even know to cry out with innocence and want

Look into my eyes to find eyes looking back at you in question
Eyes which hardly want to blink; in fear of missing your sudden glimpse.

You mean the world to me, a thing beyond this world, or let’s make it this world alone.
For let me limit my world to this world. Where this world tends to infinity and beyond.

Let the impostor of my dream and slap of this reality merge,
For you are the only probable difference between them.

Consider me for once for I have considered you forever
This drink is worth a drop if not a peg

You cannot be of a better use to anyone
Rather, no one else can need you as badly

Walk into the desert of my life…for I call for you
I will cry away your tears, for mine has dried into patience waiting.

- Chetan Tibrewala

.

Curtain-Raiser

As I stood on the podium,
A wave of loneliness took over,
I looked downwards,
I saw only cheer!

They call out my name and yet,
Their glee fails to touch me!
Why don’t they judge me?
Will they tear me apart now?

Illuminated and spotlighted,
I feel bare and naked,
There is no comfort, no respite
Do I feel caged?
But isn’t this liberation?

Suddenly, I look skywards,
A smile escapes my lips.
These shackles spell doom,
Always.

- Janvi Gandhi
janvi.87@gmail.com

Plain Jane

I don’t have the long pretty hair,

For you to lose yourself in.

And my cheeks aren’t that fair,

That your touch would make them pink.

I don’t have those deep blue eyes,

In which you might want to drown.

I don’t have the long lashes,

To flutter up and down.

I don’t have a sweet, melodious voice,

That might melt your heart away,

I am not even a tender angel,

That in your arms could sway.

All I am is what you see,

And I am no poets dream,

No fairy tale will tell a tale,

Of the plain-Jane that is me.

I have tried hard and now,

I am tired of this game.

To be a muse, to be a woman,

I don’t want to change

Try to love my smile,

And try to love my frowns,

Try to love my crazy hair,

And my cheeks so brown.

Love me for being who I am,

Else it’s not worth the hype,

I’d rather lose your love my man,

Than be a stereotype!

- Shakti Salgaokar
shaktijs@gmail.com

A Tribute to Pink Floyd

Waiting for you with paranoid eyes,
lost for words in the course of life,
Like a brain damaged lunatic, with something more than just that young lust in my mind,
still filled with high hopes for the happiest days of my life,
all the time I wished you were near; all the time I wished you were here.

With any colour you like, I wanted you to colour me,
spending all the time & money that I had,
with sorrow in my mind I ran like hell.
Marooned was I, poles apart were we.
I even thought of saying goodbye to the cruel world,
The thin ice was melting day by day.
Before I, finally, stopped the useless chase
where I could find no love, no trust & no signs of life.

Trying to re-build the wall,
was the given task.
Starting to breathe fresh again,
was a difficult ask.
The empty spaces in the wall occasionally questioned,
‘What would be outside the wall?’
But firm was I, I`ll be once again learning to fly.

I knew the show must go on.
It was not the end & was time for
"Killing the past & coming back to life"
Then came the great day of freedom;
the day when it was the hero’s return!

writing the epilogue as an advisory note,
don’t bother about such tiny things,
life`s a saucerful of secrets,
explore it, enjoy it!
If you wish, nothing can turn it gray;
Booze, rock, Pink Floyd
& of course, have a cigar everyday!

- Mihir Chitre
mihirmumbaikar@gmail.com

-

Break Free, Girl!

Asked a son of his mother,
“Should my wife have a boy or a girl?”
Said the mother,
A boy,
Oh, he will bring you abundant joy,
If you guide him straight and right,
He will fly in the sky of life like a kite,
Love, respect and value his mother, wife and daughter, and prove to be a gentleman so rare in sight!
If it will be a girl,
The beauty of happiness in your life she will unfurl,
If you mould her well and lead her on the right path, she will shine in her journey of life,
And irrespective of hardship or strife,
She will shape even more beautiful lives as a mother, daughter and wife.”
The son was convinced and told his mother,
Be it a boy or a girl,
Both would be to me as precious as pearl,
I will nurture and nourish them, so that they will sparkle like a gem,
And on society’s brow, be a diadem!

It is said, “A woman can make a house or break a house, if she wishes.” I would like to modify this statement to be as follows, “A woman can change her mindset, and influence many other lives linked with her own, thus bring about at least a little change in society, if she wishes. Maybe not in all circumstances, but at least to some extent, women are also active agents in the creation of inequality against women.

In an article in ‘The Times of India,’ Psychotherapist Susan Darker-Smith said that she found many female abuse victims identified with characters in famous children’s literature and claimed the stories provide ‘templates’ of dominated women. Her statement perfectly puts forth what I would like to say, “Look at the story of Rapunzel who waits to grow her hair for a prince to climb up. Why doesn’t she just knock the door down?” Why did she have to wait for years to grow her ‘mane’, just so that a prince could come to her rescue……..when the easiest and most sensible thing to do would have been to climb down the stairs?!! Duh!!

Hence, I believe that if women put the first step forward they will get rid of the ill treatment meted out to them and they will see that they do receive help from ‘many quarters’.

- Pallavi Uday Arur
pallavi.arur@gmail.com