arKane arKived
Tuesday, June 21, 2016
The Red Dress
With strappy laces
Going along the bend
Of my delicate neck
The red dress
With block print
Long and slender
Along my limbs
The red dress
Accompanied by
Brass earrings
That go ching ching
The red dress
Curly hair falls on it
Along the neck
Covering my dark skin
The red dress
And time of dusk
Birds flying home
Sun setting behind the buildings
The red dress
Black kohl framing big eyes
Matching red lipstick
French manicured nails
The red dress
Waiting for compliments
That redirect towards
Those under thirty girls
The red dress
Posing in anticipation
Of a text
“You look stunning”
The red dress
Demanding her
Pamper me, pamper me
We go to the salon
The red dress
Enters the dinner table
Blush berry sangria
And a friend’s fears for company
The red dress
Hails a cab
At about midnight
Covers up her chest
The red dress
Looks in the mirror
Falls in love
With herself
The red dress
Is off my skin
Tucked in bed
In the company of dreams
Saturday, January 16, 2016
Travelogues of a manic depressive girl in Sri Lanka
Crazy in the morning
Spirited in the afternoon
Calm at sunset
Sleepy by night
As the window changes scenery
Her mind changes moods
Beaches to hills to wildlife
Her mind is rough, sunny, hot
Then cool, chilly, frozen
And then it pours!
She goes upstream, then downstream
With the current, against the current
Drifting, drowning
Ebbing, receding
The high tides of her mind are dangerous
She dresses, undresses, over dresses
And then she walks in her night gown
Slow like the elephants of Pinnawale elephant orphanage
Helpless like the albino turtle of Kosgoda turtle hatchery
Mischievous like the squirrel that loves fries in Mirissa beach
Indomitable like the blue whales of Mirissa; blowing air
She needs to come to the surface to breathe just like those whales
She is deep like the oceans of Hikkaduwa
Violent like the waves of Kogolla
And then blue like the beaches of Bentota
Smashing like the mighty Devon waterfalls
Transient like the tea leaves of Nuwara Eliya;
Morose like the noise of the car engine on the south Srilankan highway
Blushing pink like the magnificent sunset
Stubborn as the rock of Sigiriya
Calm as the Buddha statues in every street corner
High maintenance like the precious gem stones
Old world and arty like Galle's dutch lanes
Attention-seeking like the cat in Negombo
She is Sri Lanka
Lanka is a mirror
Sri Lanka is a million emotions that converge
Like a tear drop in the Indian Ocean
Saturday, November 28, 2015
The Cultprit is the Victim and the Victim is My Mother
Mom says; "you have to have love to give it"
And that just says it all
What if there was a machine
that manufactured love
what if you could buy it in weight
what if you could hoard it and create inflation
what if you could store it in pots
Sow it in land and grow it
What if there was abundance of love
So much love that it needn't be a trade
so much love that it would rain
if you could give it without receiving it
if you could have it without deserving it
You could weight it and it would feel light
Sow it and it would grow
What if there was as much love as the ocean
Love is the strongest currency
But i am a pauper who sold her gold
I beg from strangers
Because those familiar
Are paupers too
and begging in another bowl.
And that just says it all
What if there was a machine
that manufactured love
what if you could buy it in weight
what if you could hoard it and create inflation
what if you could store it in pots
Sow it in land and grow it
What if there was abundance of love
So much love that it needn't be a trade
so much love that it would rain
if you could give it without receiving it
if you could have it without deserving it
You could weight it and it would feel light
Sow it and it would grow
What if there was as much love as the ocean
Love is the strongest currency
But i am a pauper who sold her gold
I beg from strangers
Because those familiar
Are paupers too
and begging in another bowl.
Saturday, July 11, 2015
Reflection
Instagram, Twitter or Facebook?
Should I look at my camera roll
The books I read
My email subscriptions
Or my desktop wallpaper?
Should I see it in the choices I made
My job, my marriage?
Or the accidents that happened in life
My friends, my old lovers, my roommates
Should I see it in my salary slip
Or in the food I order
My choice of poison
My brand of cigarettes
The color of my nail paint
The tv shows I watch
Where is my true reflection?
Certainly not in the mirror
Tainted by conventional wisdom
Should I go stand by a river
And stare in silence
Ponder in peace
About my existence?
Is my identity only my marriage
Or do I deserve my own story
Can I not have a dichotomy
Or should I pretend it doesn't exist
How do I stop a storm in my brain
Pretend I am completely sane
Do I bury my desires in the name of morality
Or do I take every chance in my one life to live
I chased your shadow when I was with you
I chased it when I was single
I can't stop chasing it until
The shadow breaks its silence
Is it a mind trick to stop thinking
Or to make the heart stop beating
Kundera said life is light
I don't want to let go
Some dead ends can lead to a golden stream
If we have the courage to dream
And break down the red brick wall
That stands so stubborn and tall
I tried fighting those questions
That's what I see in my reflections
Questions, so many questions.
Monday, November 24, 2014
The story of a depressed alpha male (prologue)
He hides in the shelf,
'Come out, come out'; she calls,
Unheard behind those walls
Stuck in a bell jar
Is a black hole that was once a star.
Tuesday, July 29, 2014
Fall and Rise
Before leaving for Ladakh I had a strange feeling that I might never come back. I was afraid that AMS or something else could take my life. That is why I actually made it a point to meet everyone before the trip – mom, dad, Shruti, Tarka (the drive through the rain), Avadhoot, office gang, of course my husband, and even his friends. I was sad that I couldn’t meet my sister but we spoke on the phone.
In Ladakh, our gang of 13 strangers went to the confluence of the Indus and the Zanskar rivers. Indus is India’s pride, all vegetation and life is presumed to thrive on the banks of Indus while the Zanskar flows all the way into Pakistan. We decided to go rafting in the Zanskar river. We got dressed in river shoes, body suits and life jackets. The leader rafter; Sanjay, gave us safety instructions before starting. He asked if anyone has done rafting before. Few had; including me. I said I had done rafting in Kolad. He said that Kolad is a warm river while Zanskar will be freezing. Zanskar has whirlpools which can pull you in while the rapids in Kolad are not that dramatic. Sanjay’s safety instructions included information on what to do in the following conditions:
When you fall from the raft – hold the rope encircling the edges of the raft
When you fall few feet away from the raft – look up at the sky to stay afloat and the raft leader will pull you up by holding your life jacket from the shoulders
Someone asked what if you fall and drift 10 to 20 feet away from the boat; he said; “good question!”.
He explained that in that condition he will throw a rope and one has to catch the mouth of the rope; which has a solid handle. He will pull at the rope to get the person near the raft and then the same rules follow: look up, hold the rope and he will lift you from the life jacket.
Now we were off on our rafting expedition. We were on 2 rafts; 6 in one, 7 in another. Sanjay was in the other raft but we had a younger leader. The first rapid was massive. It shook us right, left, up and down but we stayed put. After that there were no rapids for quite sometime – only beautiful landscapes to behold. Suddenly our leader spotted a whirlpool and started screaming –
Row forward! Get in !
Before we knew it, I was no longer on the raft. I was in the Zanskar river! Our raft had inverted completely!
I tried to recollect the safety instruction 1. Look up. I did that. I was atleast 19 feet away and going farther way from the other raft. I cried for help. Sanjay threw the rope and thank god I caught it by its mouth. I started pulling the rope and going ahead. Then I remembered safety instruction 3. Keep holding the mouth of the rope. So I held it back again and signaled him to pull. He pulled me and I reached near the raft. Phew.
I immediately held the rope tied to the edge of the raft.
Behold! Just as I was about to be pulled to safety another whirlpool pulled me into the water. I told myself to look up. I came out of the water gasping but I did not let go of the rope. Sanjay asked me to close my mouth or the water will go in. Then in one powerful stroke he pulled me up. I was safe. I didn’t speak for 5 minutes and then I screamed; “guys, I am alive!!”.
Meanwhile, the rest of the crew were all under the raft which was completely inverted. Luckily, they all held on to the rope on the edge or to someone’s jacket. One by one each of them were pulled up by our raft leader. Sanjay saved me first as I was alone and then went for the rest of them. All this happened in about 5 minutes. Thankfully we were all safe. The raft leader of the other raft managed to set his boat upright. There were 2 boys in canoes, also helping us out. The rest of the rafting journey was a beautiful and peaceful one. Once the rapids were over, people jumped into the water too. Everyone admired my presence of mind, calmness and bravery. Even the instructor said that most people panIc in this situation but ‘aap bombaywal hain’. He felt glad that I caught the rope. I am glad too! I felt really special. I feel extremely lucky to be alive!
I feel more courageous after Zanskar. Having been brought up to fear and be cautious, I felt a whole new liberation. I also thanked God, the universe and Budha for this experience.
Thursday, April 3, 2014
Marilyn and Kennedy
She was impulsive in a self destructive manner
But he was self destructive in an impulsive manner
disclaimer: views expressed are the author's imagination.
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