Ishu's Tales-C

Ishu was perched atop the boundary wall of the house when she saw a bright yellow blob come down the approach road to their house. She squealed with delight & leapt towards the tiny iron gate. The bright yellow autorickhaw - even brighter in the overcast weather - halted lightly just then & before Mahesh could get out of it, Ishu was inside!

Two minutes later, she entered the house in her father's arms. She could smell the aroma of soft warm idlis from the kitchen. With a grin firmly pasted on her face, she alighted & ran in to get her 'class' drawing book & maths test-copy.

"3 stars!", exclaimed Mahesh, "what a lovely scenery you have made! Come here!" Mahesh was proud of Ishu's love for colours - yellow skies, red grass, blue houses, black people...

A Rainy Mumbai Evening...

It was a rainy Mumbai evening. As the local train laboured itself into the station, a whole lot of people, in varying stages of being dunked by the Almighty lunged themselves towards it, in full faith that the one before & the one after them in the melee would ensure that they get in. As the train started to move away from the platform the tensed muscles eased a little & the ‘inmates’ started to settle in.


Understandably, the doors & windows were fastened lest the rain water gets in. It was very hot & musty as the drenched brushed against those who were lucky enough to save themselves from getting wet in the rain.


I looked up as a drop of cold water plopped on my hand from a bystander’s umbrella. She smiled to me & I smiled back – it will get better at the next major station.


The in-train announcement confirmed that we were approaching & the heavy iron doors were pushed open to a welcoming gush of breeze & a mass exodus of people. The breeze brought along with itself, a shower of tiny droplets & 3 little street urchins – 2 little boys & a little girl.


One of the co passengers was quick to ask them to alight – but to no avail. One of the boys, only marginally elder to the other two, dangled on the pole at the compartment door for a few seconds, & the train was moving again. He made the two little ones perch safely at the door itself & placed a huge poly-bag between them and the exit steps. A little while hence, the two were fighting over a snakes & ladders board they had fished out of the bag.


The erstwhile co-passenger, who was intent on shooing the kids away, stood smiling as they asked the elder kid to arbitrate which snake was bigger in length. To my surprise, they were comparing the difference in the numbers at the head & tail of the snake instead of the visible length. Maybe, something in the free education scheme was actually going right.


Oblivious to us all, the kids in their tattered clothes & shoeless feet sat counting numbers from 1 to 100 on the metal board. I sat there & wondered at their gleeful innocence even as the winds lashed in with fistfuls of mirth.

The Centuplicate...

When lightening shines, into the night, I miss the time of broad daylight...

Sometimes for those old times' sake, I miss the sounds that silence made,

When I'd lay up, in the night, shaken by some thought up fright,

And when it rains, I miss the thrill, of wiping rains from the iron grill,

Balancing the drops, lest they may fall, tiny drops in hands so small,

I look to the sky and miss the stars, hidden by the blazing lights,

that surround me...

Sometimes when its dark, I miss the night,

Sometimes when I'm brave, I miss the fright...

Walls of Choice...

Bubble: Part II

From inside of a bubble, my bubble, life looks colourful. On the circle that surrounds me, I see myriad shades of coloured waves forming & then bursting into coutless more hues n patterns. The world outside looks beautiful. I stand with my nose flattened against the transparent walls of the bubble...life outside is radiant & shining...it lives unlike the inert unchanging air of here inside. I sigh and turn back to explore more of the bubble I am in, secure & safe, untouched, uncoloured, unchanging & I loathe it.

The one on the outside does not want the bubble to break...he keeps it from alighting as long as possible by giving it tiny boosts of air from below...& I float, like a tourist in an Indian jungle safari, caged as I see the vibrancy of life outside...

I am the child, the one outside my parent. 

The colours of the world outside are paints & not hues. There is a slight difference, which I dont understand as of now. They wither with acquaintance. 

The dynamism is uncertainity & confusion, unroutine & unfathomed.

Someday I will see the difference...and long for the inert unchanging unmoving air of my alight bubble & hover over the world guarded by the flimsy sheath of my hearth. My nose hard pressed against the wall...seeing beyond the colours that I see today...& knowing, that all the shades that I saw as a child were but on the walls of my own home...

Barnie!

My piece of Sky...

Moon Child

I kind of hate writer's blocks. There were so many things that came to my mind...about the RP vendor on the street...about the Dinosaurs, about the second coming...But lazy as I am, I did not write : :

So thought I will try break it with this thingie...A pic of a 'fraxing" kid on a moon :D Going on & on...sliding off, climbing on (the moon) so very like the monotonously unique hum-drum of our lives! I am sure...I was more imaginative when I was a kid...when i thought winds are caused due to to moving of branches...one moving branch moves the other, that one another & so on...till everything starts to move n wind is caused!!! Dint get it? Its something like the stirring of Bournvita in a glass...the spoon moves, the milk moves...:P

Chuck!

Fear...

The curtains move in the playful breeze
That comes flying from the leaves of trees
The quite child from under the quilt
Looks up to see if all is still
It looks all fine, so off he goes
To sleep again, but his woes
Do not end, though he pretends
That he is brave!

After a while
One little eye
Ope’s to see if all is well
Looks ‘round-confirms,
The quiet room & sleeps again.

The curtains still, the breeze subdued
The child huddled, to his teddy glued
His tiny mind, now up in arms
Why its so quite, why its so calm?
The child is all alone
And theres no one else at home…
His tiny eyes well up with tears,
Not of remorse, but untold fears
He shuts them tight…

The sunlight peeks from o’er the hill
To find the child sleeping still!
The naughty sun then full of glee
Plays on his eyes n off he flees
The little child now up from sleep
Jumps off the bed n down he peeps…
.
.
.
.
.
.

Finds no one there
Was just a fear?
Maybe it was, but just in case
Before he’s off to sleep today
He’ll peep to see that all is safe!

:)